It was the start of 2016 and my now-hubby and I had just bought our dream house in regional NSW. We had spent the previous 2 yearstrying to conceive through natural methods; we saw a naturopath famous for getting older couples pregnant. I was about 43 and now-hubby was 45 when we started. We got all the medical tests; both of us were still fertile. So aside from my eggs being deemed old we were in with a fighting chance to fall pregnant.I had a history of being highly fertile and have been pregnant more than once in the past. Each time was wrong for various reasons. The main reason I think now looking back, was thatdeep down I never thought motherhood was a good option for me. More about that later.

The naturopath put us on mind boggling amounts of herbs, supplements, potions and a big detox. No coffee, no alcohol, no junk food…no life! She loaded us with instructions which proved highly stressful to carry out. I have chronic anxiety and it went through the roof due to all the pressure.

I may also have been at the start of perimenopause as my period became suddenly extremely erratic which added to my extreme emotional rollercoaster ride each month, thinking “am I pregnant?”, “I feel pregnant!”We were told my partner’s sperm was “too hot”, so he started wearing boxers, we were told we need to relax more and have sex more often and have “fun sex”, I was taking my temperature every morning and tabulating fluctuations to spot my ovulation times. Oh yeah, so much fun.

Until we moved to the country. Something in me clicked – just STOP. The pressure and anxiety outweighing the desire to conceive. I no longer wanted to have the pressure on me, on us. So, we stopped, and the grieving started or more accurately, continued, because in many ways my entire life has been one long grieving process.

I grew up in less than favourable circumstances. Domestic violence and alcoholism were part of my first 15 or so years of life and I remember clearly saying when I was quite young “I will never get married and I will never have children” because from my point of view, it was all about violence, anger and hatred.

Well, I did get married at age 47. We eloped!I had a psychological fallout from getting married. I felt I had somehow betrayed my inner child – that little girl who swore she’d never get married. I am 50 now and at peace with my marriage. At peace with not having children. Well kind of.

When I decided to return to my first profession of primary school teaching at 47, I felt a new sense of purpose. I studied teaching straight out of school because I didn’t know what to do with my life. Turns out 25 years later, teaching is so much fun, and I am very good at it!So, thanks younger me for getting your DipEd. I love kids. I am just so grateful now not to have any of my own; I love coming home to my quiet house.I am very present for the kids I teach. They feel it, they love it. I “see” them and the feel content in this space. I work with kids with autism, and it is so rewarding to see miniature versions of myself grappling with all the things that are Life. I do not have autism;however, I do relate to their intuitive and highly attuned ways.

In the past 2 years or so I discovered I identify as a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). In the early 1990’s Dr Elaine Aaron discovered the gene for high sensitivitywhich 20% of the population carriesand has written a few books and made a movie on the topic.

It is all about the way I take in information from my environment. A non-HSP might walk into a room and just see people and furniture. Me as an HSP, will walk into the same room and not only see people and furniture; I willfeel the energy of the room, I’ll sense if an argument has just occurred, I’ll know which of the people there don’t get on, I’ll perceive everythinggoing on in that room. That’s the way I am built. I am highly empathic, probably a bit clairvoyant and kind of a human sponge for collective consciousness energy. Trust me it’s a good thing and I am still learning to manage my strong emotions, my intolerance of not getting lots and I mean lots, of down-time. Sometimes I wish I could turn it off for a while but alas it makes me the creative,loyal, kind, funny, sometimes zany character that I am.

It explained so much about my personality, my deep love of spending lots and lots of time alone, my deep and profound thought processes, my propensity for extreme overwhelm and overstimulation by things like loud noises, bright lights, crowds, a too busy schedule. Imagine adding a child to this mix.

The saying “the first 40 years of childhood are the hardest” were written about me. I ama late bloomer and re-parented myself with the support of excellent therapy from my early 30’s onwards. I had beautiful counsellors who gave me the space and emotional holding I so sorely craved. I am still healing from attachment trauma, which stems back to my biological father not being able to stay when I was born and having a young mum who did her best but was basically too self-focused to be a supportive and present mum when I was young.

So now at 50, I have the advantage of hindsight and I can see clearly why I did not have children when the chances presented themselves in my 20’s and 30’s. Then when I finally met the love of my life at 43 and thought “this guy could be a dad to my baby” – it didn’t work out and I admit now I was relieved it didn’t.

In the staffroom at school, there is daily pronatalist banter. Banter which I feel excluded from. When I mention I do not have children, there is silence and uncomfortable sideways looks. Only a few colleagues know this story. The rest probably assume I am unlucky, unhappy, jealous of them and a multitude of other very false assumptions.

I almost titled this “The Loaded No” because, when I say: “no I don’t have kids” it feels loaded with all of this, yet no one ever asks me “what’s that like for you?” That would be so refreshing. Thankfully I found a Facebook community where I feel seen and validated. It was that group which led me to writing this and it feels so good to put it all down in words, because I am ready to embrace and savour every single little bit of the rest of my life with my beautiful family of three – hubby, fur baby and me.

Anonymous

Photo by Marcel Ardivan on Unsplash