It’s not what I expected.
It’s not what I planned.
It’s not what I hoped for.
But it’s OK all of the time and sometimes it’s really good.
And it comforts me to know that I did my best to have children,
didn’t give up,
tried as hard as I could.
So what does my version of a life without children look like?
Sometimes, it is quiet.
Sometimes I feel lonely, or sad, or regretful.
Sometimes, my heart still hurts.
Sometimes, I am busy.
Sometimes I feel relieved.
Sometimes I realise that it wouldn’t have been the life I had dreamed of, but a different life.
Sometimes I pine after lost dreams, sometimes I make room for new ones.
I go to work, I clean the house, I cook and I see friends and family.
I don’t travel the world, go to wild parties on work nights, or wear glamorous clothes.
I live an ordinary, and fairly prosaic life.
I am lucky to have an expanded family of fellow childless women who have become my sisters.
I am lucky that I have not lost my friends who have children.
I am lucky that we are still close and that we all realise there is more to life than kids.
I am lucky, although I still wrestle with loss.
The time when I could have children is in the past,
and I spend less and less time looking that way.
When I look to the future,
I see that my life has more and more in common with others,
both those with and without children.
I feel grateful to see the similarities more than the differences.
I feel grateful to have something to offer.
I have learned, loved and lost.
And now I offer my experiences to others
as I prepare for a life as a counsellor for childlessness,
ready to be a fearless companion
and advocate to others walking my path.
You are not alone.