I wanted to write a second essay for World Childless week, but I found myself hitting up against some internal resistance. Today, I finally identified its source: I don’t want to be defined by my childless state. It’s part of who I am, yes, but only part—a part that is painful and sad, so I’m not eager to revisit it. I’d rather pave over it—with compassion, of course—and move on. Maybe not the most psychologically healthy approach, but there doesn’t seem to be much else for me to do with my childlessness at this point. As the saying goes, it is what it is. So I was glad to see the option to write on the topic, “Moving Forward.”
The four-year anniversary of my hysterectomy just passed. So much has changed for me since then, and I thought it might help some who are struggling to see a snapshot of what life looks like now.
Physically, I’m in the best condition I’ve been in since my twenties. I have a new chronic illness, but as someone who suffered from endometriosis and mood disorders since age 13, I know how to manage such things. I saw my doctor last week and got the thumbs-up, so I must be doing a decent job. Full disclosure: after my hysterectomy, I healed well from the surgery, but struggled with depleted energy and memory problems for about a year afterward. Apparently, those are common issues, but no one mentioned them to me beforehand, and I found them very disheartening and difficult to live with. Today, however, I have as much energy and mental sharpness as I need, and I’m enjoying freedom from having to plan my life around 2-3 days of disabling pain every month. I never realized how much of a burden that was until “life with endometriosis” was in my rear-view mirror.
In terms of my mental health, like many people, I’ve struggled with ups and downs during the COVID-19 crisis. I’ve dubbed this the “mood corona-coaster.” Overall, though, I have lived with anxiety and depression for so long that I handle them much better than I used to. I have enough perspective to know that however I’m feeling, “This, too, shall pass.” I also know what I need to do to get through difficult patches. I also take medication, and I’m very comfortable with that, whereas in earlier years, I was forever second-guessing myself and my doctors. I know what works for me now.
An international move two years ago to be closer to my husband’s family forced me to re-think work. It hasn’t been a smooth journey, but it has been rewarding. As I face into the second half of 2020, I have an offer from a publisher for my new novel, and I’m starting a PhD in a subject I’m passionate about. Both of those opportunities just came to fruition in the past month; before that, there was a lot of uncertainty, brainstorming, and contingency planning. But now things are starting to fall into place and I know what I’ll be doing for the next few years, at least. In today’s world with so many uncertainties, I’m not sure it’s even possible to plan further ahead than that. To be able to write – my favorite pastime! – and to do research that has the potential to help others are incredible blessings and wonderful opportunities. For me, they are also ways to live a life of purpose and joy, and to satisfy that part of me that wants to leave behind a legacy of some sort.
In my life today, I have so much to be grateful for. My husband is – well, there are no words that can adequately describe how wonderful he is. Let’s just say there’s no one I’d rather be in lockdown with! I am also blessed to have loving and supportive family, though it’s hard being an ocean away from them. I’m also enjoying being able to spend more time with my in-laws, getting to know them better, and learning more about my husband by living with him in his country of origin.
Living abroad for the first time has also been an adventure, one that I’ve embraced. After two years, we’ve built a home here, and I’m part of a new community of lovely and generous people. Every day, it seems, I learn something new about this country, its history, its culture…. So much richness, and I relish the chance to absorb it.
Do I ever think about the fact that I’m childless? Yes, of course, sometimes – as I wrote about in my other essay this week on “Ageing Without Children.” But I wouldn’t say it comes to mind very frequently, and when it does, if there are difficult emotions, I’m able to ride the wave and come out the other side, living this transformed life. Sometimes, I think about what life with children would have been like, but that thought experiment doesn’t often turn out the way many people might expect, with me feeling regretful and empty and mourning what might have been. Instead, it often leads me to think about the things I love about my life right now—things I may never have experienced had my life taken a different trajectory.
The trick is that when asking the question, “What if…?” we can never really know the answer. So instead, I try to not only accept what is, but to embrace it, and to see and appreciate the good parts. As for the future, I hope I’ll have enough trust in the whispers of my soul to continue to follow them wherever they may lead.
S.K.