I had my third and last failed IVF treatment at the age of 39. It was hell. I gave everyone at work the impression that I was fine (because I am the one who looks after everyone else), but inside I was falling apart. The first round of IVF had led to hope then miscarriage; the second and third totally unresponsive. I was infertile.
I spiraled down into the dark for the rest of the year and then just decided one day that unless I did something to pick myself up, I would just go under. I knew what my body couldn’t do. I was seriously overweight after all the drugs; so I decided to launch myself on a journey that was to become about finding out what my body could do.
I ran a marathon, after two years of training. I lost four stone, dropped too many dress sizes and got very very fit. Sounds amazing doesn’t it? It was, until one day when I sat in a Monsoon shop changing room blubbing because the size 10 dress I had picked was much too big for me. Most women would have been elated; but it was a stark reminder that 1. I still didn’t have children despite my weight; and 2. I barely recognised myself any more. I think perhaps I’d been hoping that if I lost weight my infertility would go into reverse.
The thing is, it never goes away. I ran every event going. I got back into cycling, endurance cycling, time-trialling and all sorts of silly socially competitive stuff before realising that it was taking up a lot of my time and energy. It wasn’t what I really truly enjoyed. I had given up making textile art because I didn’t see the point in making ‘things’ when I had nobody to give them to. What’s the point in more ‘stuff’? I’ve got nobody to leave it to. Sewing boxes and button tins are passed down through generations. I’ll be giving mine to charity.
Turning the corner after all that displacement time, I got married last year to my partner of 14 years (now husband). I think he would have loved to be a Father. He deals with childlessness too; though he is a bit older and had always more or less accepted not having children in his life. He still encounters clumsy comments in the workplace and the ‘adoption question’; but he’s more aware of it all for my sake really.
Over the years I’ve broadened my outlook on my relationship with the world. I’m a nature lover. I care about climate change. Sometimes I’m glad I don’t have to worry about my childrens’ future on this planet. I certainly worry about animals. I have a ‘rescue’ cat called ‘Bobs’. He rescued me. I had a beautiful dog up until three years ago. We plan to rescue another dog. We both love animals and we’ll do whatever we can for them.
I’ve started making art again (printmaking) and I’m reading a lot of Elizabeth Gilbert. I’ve learned to let go of any feelings of not measuring up. I realised that I was the one holding the ruler and I put it down. I have a more realistic relationship with my body. I don’t run or cycle any more unless I feel like it. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do in that moment. I’ve learned to say ‘no’ to people who take all the time and I have proactively detached myself from anything or anyone that brings out my anxiety. I’ve changed channel. Funnily enough I feel like I’m slowly finding myself again. There’s so much brilliance and fun to behold in life and it’s out there waiting. I just need to flush out the anxiety and let all the amazing stuff in. I am enough. We are all enough.
Vonnie Raw