When I was a young child my pre-school bully teased me for being “a scribbler.” My inability and unwillingness to color inside the lines earned me the taunt. It made me angry, but I still loved coloring and I kept scribbling. Years later, I was in an afterschool art program and we had a guest artist come in. He was a muralist, and could simultaneously draw with both hands. While drawing with soft pastels in each hand he said to the class “there are no museums for famous erasers.” Even as a kid, I recognized this statement had many meanings about mistakes and creations.
Many years later I would receive a degree in engineering, get a good job, and marry my college sweetheart. We bought a house, advanced our careers, traveled around the world, and finally decided it was the perfect time to have children. With countless blessings, support, and hard work, we had checked off every life milestone in perfect order...except becoming parents. We tried as hard to become parents as we had for every other goal in our lives. We created action plans and schedules for perfectly timed sex that worked around our demanding careers and travel ambitions, but nothing worked. After months of trying, tracking, worrying, and arguing we saw a fertility specialist. Just after my 30th birthday, in March of 2020, we were diagnosed with unexplained infertility. We had discussed beforehand what treatment options we would be open to. We were hoping some clomid would do the trick, we had also discussed IUI’s, and we
determined that we were unwilling to undergo IVF. At the doctor’s recommendation we agreed to do 3 rounds of IUI. However, none of them worked and I have never been pregnant.
But I will scribble again.
I have always had a deep love for dogs, but I have not always been a “dog mom.” I grew up a farm kid in very rural northern NY. I was involved in 4-H, horse shows, dog shows, and worked various farm jobs.I loved my pets, but I never thought of them as people or fur-children. My husband and I got our first puppy, Bella, a golden retriever, the day after we graduated college. We adopted our second dog, Maddie, a year later from the local shelter. They are both eight now and quite well behaved. I craved adding some chaos to our quiet, well ordered, childless home. My empty arms ached to hold something small. Six weeks after we stopped pursuing parenthood we welcomed Kona, a mini-aussie, into our family. I decided part of making the most of the life I had was allowing myself to indulge in the fun of being a (possibly crazy) dog
mom.
This year I will proudly color outside all of the lines.
I have committed to making the most of what is directly in front of me and not denying myself something because “it's not what childless people do.” Cheesy insta posts, refrigerator worthy snail mail, and adorable little fuzzy blankets are not solely for newborn parents! I made a puppy announcement card and mailed it to all of my friends. Now Kona adorns several of their refrigerators. I used a felt board and month stickers to track Kona’s growth on Instagram. I scheduled family photos with a photographer for the first time since our wedding. I made Christmas cards with our little family on it, instead of using mass produced cards. I am embracing our family for what it is, instead of being ashamed for what is missing. People seem
to appreciate receiving these tokens of us embracing the life we have. I believe these gestures can inspire others with more confidence to embrace their life as-is without worrying that they are not meeting standards set by our pro-natal culture. (I could write a whole separate essay on the damage caused by a pro-natal culture for both moms and non-moms.) Last year, I worked up the courage to go get puppy pictures with Santa on the last possible day because I had spent most of December debating if that was “too ridiculous” and telling myself “Santa is for families with children.” But This year, I’m embracing any thoughts that may be considered ridiculous and not caring what the status quo is.
This year I will scribble a masterpiece.
I like to count days. One hundred sixty-two days ago, we stopped pursuing parenthood. I have been married for 2,413 days and I’ve been alive for 11,272. I like to count days because it means every day counts; and I have a widget on my homescreen to do it for me. The thing about a childless not by choice life, is that the moment you stop pursuing parenthood, absolutely everything in your life changes - and almost no one notices. Everyone knows that having kids changes everything, but few people know how not having them does too. Every aspect of your life is impacted, you are left in a monumental transition to decide who you are, who you want to be, and how you want to live. People falsely believe the milestones in life that cause for deep personal reflection, are tied to stages of parenthood. I believe these crossroads in life simply
correlate with generational milestones but they are not caused by them. They happen to everyone and the feelings are universal. It is said that no one can understand the loss and grief of the childless not by choice. Perhaps this is true, but I know we all experience a deep need to define who we are throughout our lives. Through my journey I’ve grown to appreciate that life isn’t lived inside neat clean lines and there is no eraser to do it over. So this year, I will embrace life as a dog mom and scribble myself a beautiful new chapter.
Anne
