Have you heard of parallel universes? I’m no quantum physicist but basically it is the idea that many universes exist at the same time, parallel with the one we live in right now. The stuff of science fiction for sure, but what if it wasn’t? Surely that would explain the trajectory that has been my life.

Smack dab in the realization that I wouldn’t birth a child, I firmly believed there was a parallel universe and due to a glitch, or worse yet, a big cosmic joke, another me existed in this universe. Well, not the exact same me, but pretty darn close. Other Me was a stay-at-home mom to four rambunctious yet adorable children. Her social media posts masked the thoughts she really had – that she really didn’t like being a mom. Sure, she made it work and was loving to said kiddos, but deep down she longed for the days that she could do whatever she wanted and was tied to nothing. She also loved her husband, but boy did she miss being single. Other Me fantasized about a different life. In fact, she longed for the life I was leading.

Meanwhile in our universe, I was busy not checking you’re-doing-great-in-life milestone boxes. Meet your future spouse in or shortly after college, get married, buy a house, proceed to have kids? Unchecked, unchecked, unchecked, and (why we are here today) unchecked. For a woman who has always loved children and never wanted for validation that she was great with them, the realization that my life would be absent of offspring hit me like a meteor. Surely there was a mistaken switch that had occurred.

I am childless by circumstance. Very simply, I did not meet a partner in the timeline that would have supported trying for children. As any childless not by choice person knows, there is deep grief that accompanies this unplanned journey. For me, I also grapple with the shame of not attracting a proper mate to procreate with. I never tried getting pregnant because for me personally, I really wanted to find the “right” partner first, get hitched, and then proceed to have kids; the result of the ultimate love and unity two people can experience. Sigh.

As the years ticked by and the online dates never developed into anything, I would think of alternatives. People would try to offer advice: “Have you thought about adoption or a sperm bank?” Yes, but I am not confident I have the income to support a child alone. Plus, the single moms I know are really struggling so my preference would be to have a partner. “Just go to a bar and meet a guy, and…” Not my style and again, single parenthood is not my preference. “Maybe just have an ‘accident’ with the guy you’re seeing”. Um, I’m not in the business of tricking anyone to make this happen so no.

It was after a failed relationship (that I was so darn sure was going to amount to something) that I had what I call a spiritual crisis. Let’s just say I was so angry I called God/The Universe every name

I could possibly think of, loudly proclaiming that “this is all bullsh*%”. For quite some time I might add.

It might have been that meteor hitting me. A final door shut, nail in the coffin, etc., etc. At this point I clearly understood the reality that I would likely never be a mom. And after some time, when I was ready to start dating again, I knew I needed to take “must want children” off the table. I was rounding the corner on 40 and decided to do some digging to figure out why I wanted kids. The bare bones of it was that I wanted kids to come out of an awesome relationship. That was my personal “why”.

Shortly after I came to a sort of surrender…that elusive letting go. Instead of asking God/The Universe to send me things, to guide me, to change what was happening, I asked “please help me be at peace with my current reality”. Born not so much of wisdom, but more from fatigue. I was just too tired to keep pushing for something that clearly wasn’t happening. That’s when I met my husband.

An acquaintance asked me if I was interested in meeting her friend and I said sure. Fast forward and I am married to a great guy. Great as in more than I have ever dreamed of. A man who, at the time we met, had a teenage daughter and was honest with me that he didn’t want to start a family again. I was okay with that and completely at peace with my decision. LOL no, that’s a big old lie.

I’d like to say it was easy to heal from being childless and I’ve completed that journey. I’d like to say I have a great relationship with my stepdaughter, and it meets more than enough of my mothering needs. I’d like to say I don’t think of being childless at all. But that is not true.

Grief and shame are noisy companions. They pop in and out of life at unpredictable times. There is no ignoring them or their shapeshifting ways. So, we talk, we sit, we cry. We try to make sense of it. We try to make meaning. But the space between their visits is longer and their time with me shorter than it was. And the well we draw from is not as deep as it once was. That dream, desire, longing is not gone, but the size of the hole in my heart continues to diminish in size.

I mentioned before that this is a journey. But I wonder if it is more like a pilgrimage, which defined means a prolonged journey toward a destination of significance. It is said that the motivations of undertaking a pilgrimage vary, but that it blends “the physical and the spiritual into a unified experience.”

Peace to all of us as we journey on our pilgrimages.

Anonymous

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