At the Intersection of grief is love, hopelessness is empowerment.
In honor of world childless week this year, like or unlike many, I would like to share my story.
I’m sure if you’re reading this, you visualized frolicking in the forest or yard, with your young children, because you wanted her or him and/or family and society reinforces this narrative at every angle, before you get the chance to discover your own truth.
At least, that’s how it was for me. Come to find out, one to a hundred reasons prevent this possibility and I eventually realized, child rearing, while expected and fulfilling, hardly lives up to our fantasy dream-like desires.
As much as I love Disney. (and yes, I hated if, for awhile, when it’s whimsical state turned into a parade of those reserved for parents and their kids, much less all the fun rides I couldn’t go anymore, because of what I put my body through trying to become one-apparently the risks of IVF don’t go well on a brochure). At least, that’s how the G version goes. Since you’re in the rated R for real section, it was now, the land where childhood dreams and identity went to die.
While, I don’t believe in fairytale endings or sugar coating the merry go round cycle of oceanic grief, that can be childlessness and illness, I do WHOLE HEARTINGLY believe, we can CHOOSE to get off and break into living our most authentic self, in spite of and even because of the hardships you survive in this life.
That’s what I ultimately did. Tho a few years ago, I didn’t at all feel that way. I was Queen of throwing myself pity parties, after running on empty, at the familiar intersection of failed fertility procedures, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually and financially.
If that didn’t put me in a rock and a hard place, watching all my friends go over to the land of parenthood sure did. I coined it Neverland, because it seemed like a forbidden far away fantasyland, as a childless adult of a certain age group.
I would soon learn, not only did my friends not have time for me, but we felt more like aliens, than kindred spirits, with little common ground, to serve as a basis for friendship. You get me, going to a wedding rehearsal that somehow turns into a dialogue of what is the best stroller, whilst sitting there only to learn your last fertility tx failed.
Then, my dog, who was the closest embodiment of unconditional fur child I was going to get, passed away. Shortly thereafter, I watched a severely painful illness/chronic pain (Pudendal Neuralgia, pelvic floor dysfunction-had you heard of such a horror, except maybe in my once blessed childless life), come over my body, with no hope of reprieve for the next two years.
I literally and still can’t always sit for more than two to a few minutes, without severe shocks, tightness, pain and severe spasms. And yet, this was ironically my plot twist from feeling horribly sorry for myself to a calling, becoming, an invitation to wake up to the best version of myself, because the truth is,
It wasn’t until I had no choice, but to reinvent myself and my life, that I started to actually live my life. It’s when I walked the path of spiritual enlighntment, by starting to stand up for myself, (uhh, kinda literally, as I had no other choice), become more compassionate than I ever thought was possible, mostly for MYSELF, but also others.
My experience was an honest reparenting of myself and a sharing to others.
Of all things I’m unsure of in this life, I can assure you of this, your friend/foe is also in grief, yup, over there in neverland, over their “childfree lives,” so we can struggle the same, even when we feel a world apart and your journey may always look a bit different, of course. And even though you may be lost in outer space, for awhile, you can land on a planet, of self discovery, because there are so many ways to be a parent in this life, friend.
I have found not only peace, but purpose and empowerment in my work as a counselor, neighbor, friend, fur parent, Aunt, in spite of and because of walking through hell to get there.
Jolene Jensen, Survivor
