My plan B is to live a contented and meaningful life as a childless not by choice person. To find new meaning in the space left by childlessness. To be content in this new life, even if it’s not the contentedness I’d expected, imagined and dreamt of. I’d been living and developing my Plan B for a few years as part of a childless couple until separation threw it all up into the air. Not being part of a childless couple any more and losing a supportive partner changed so much. I was a single, childless woman (again). I grieved afresh. My Plan B reformed.

I had to move home and found myself in a rented flat that for a long time felt like a break-up flat! Gradually, it began to feel like home. I began home-making more. I put up some pictures, unpacked the few ornaments I have and put them out, put books on the shelves (I love reading novels) and made the bedroom all nice and to my taste! I have a chronic neurological illness which means I regularly spend a lot of time in/on my bed, so having a nice bedroom is therapeutic.

Although I knew the area I’d moved to, as it’s a town quite near where I was brought up and where my parents still lived, I began to make new memories in the area and to feel like I belonged there. I began to make friends. Early on, I joined a local group for people with disabilities that meets once a week, which I enjoy. At the time, it was a lifeline. I joined an online support group for people with the same chronic illness as me in the wider area.

I joined a local Meetup group for childless women (Gateway Women). We meet in a café every month or so. Spending time with other people where the conversation doesn’t revolve around their children or grandchildren is so refreshing. We talk about all sorts of other things! It’s also a relief to be amongst other people who ‘get it’.

I got a cat from a rescue centre a couple of months after I moved! Having pets was part of my Plan B. My ex husband wasn’t keen on cats although he would have tolerated one for my sake. When I was with him, I had two guinea pigs and I just loved them! Sadly they both died a few years ago. I adore my cat and she is such a good companion. When she comes in from being out and about, she comes straight to me for a cuddle, bypassing anyone else. Perhaps that fulfils some need in me, being childless. She makes me laugh too!

I’m grateful to live in such a lovely area and near to a loch (a lake in Scotland). I like to go there when I can and be near the water. I bought a mobility scooter to help get out and about. There are some accessible trails around the loch and I hope to get around some of them. A setback health-wise has prevented this so far but I’m hopeful. Very sadly, my Mum died about a year after I moved here. I’m so grateful that due to living near her, I was able to see a lot of her in the last year of her life.

Recently, I have found some purpose in raising awareness of and doing some campaigning for the illness I have. I have become a founding member of a local online support group. I’ve found enjoyment, connection and meaning from being part of the Gateway Women online community, both in sharing my experiences and being there for others. Connecting with other childless people both online and in person has been invaluable in moving forwards.

For a long time, childlessness felt like the presence of an absence. I was keeping a space for the child or children I hoped that I would have. Little by little, I am filling that space with new meaning. I will always have a loving place in my heart for the children I never had. Nowadays, the grief of childlessness is more of a quiet voice than a howl. Certain things can sometimes be triggering and painful and that’s ok. At those times, I have the support of the childless community as a safe place to land.

I live a fairly quiet life and now, two years on from the devastation of a marriage separation, I am feeling quite contented. I am finding meaning through my own existence rather than through that of my children or being part of a couple. This is quite liberating!

I feel that moving forwards is different from getting over something. We can’t ‘get over’ childlessness but we can move forwards. By writing this piece and looking back, I can see how I have. How I‘ve lived alongside the loss and the grief whilst moving forwards, onwards, surviving and sometimes even thriving.

This is my life and I want to live it deeply.

As long as we are alive, we have needs – for community, for home, for some semblance of peace and order. Even if that runs alongside a broken heart in ways that can’t be fixed.

Megan Devine, refugeingrief, Istagram post, 26/7/20

Anon