We are a very liberated society

There is little we cannot talk about

Each little review of social norms

Has taken us to enlightenment

But still, in the dark corner there remains

A small matter of fact

That can shut down the conversation at a dinner party:

How old are your kids?

I don't have any!

 

And in that split second time stops.

The hostess has left something on the stove

The Host suggests another round of drinks

The dog gets up and walks out

Someone drops a fork.

And the conversation turns to atrocities

on the football field.

 

Yes, I am talking infertility

We don’t dare say that word, we dress it up

And dance around, and hope it will go away.

But no, it’s there, it’s always been there,

But somehow social norms send it to the Gulag.

 

We have a population problem you know

Maybe we should have more of it (infertility), to save the planet

Just think of all the doting aunties and uncles,

A village to raise a child.

I am just saying

It’s in the world and in some cases, there are no solutions.

 

The endless rounds of IVF, so clinical and unpredictable

Causing high expectations and deep loss and failure

Taking a little bit of our soul, every time there is a pickup

Or a drop off.

The doctors can’t mend a broken heart

The doctors can only play with cells.

 

And who knows the reason why we are here?

Let alone, if we can have kids, and what they will be like

Heaven knows, or maybe only God knows

But surely don’t make me a refugee

Just because my sperm swim funnily, or have strange shapes

Or are just not particularly plentiful.

 

Don’t be a pain when I don’t attend your child’s party

Or refuse to hold your newborn

It’s sometimes too much, for one who cannot produce

And for Heaven’s sake

Asking newlyweds for grandchildren relentlessly, should be a serious offence.

 

In days of old there were other problems

But always children to adopt

But today, they are pretty thin on the ground

And overseas adoption fraught with danger

And really, really, there are good reasons to give up.

Yes, I said it, give up. Enough is enough.

Hoping beyond reasonable doubt helps no-one

Hoping beyond reasonable doubt pays doctor’s bills.

And fund all sorts of things but it never fed a child in an orphanage.

 

So, don’t let it shock you when someone says

No children - given up - other things to do.

So many other things to talk about

After all, how many nappy changes and snotty noses do we have to talk about

When there is a world of things to do.

 

And children may be a blessing

It may be wired into our DNA

But is childlessness really a curse?

Maybe it’s a blessing

Maybe it’s a calling to something else

Yes, it will take time to mend our hearts

Sometimes we never fully mend

But life can change shape.

 

You have a special job to do

Yes, you do.

So, go forth and be fruitful.

Go forth and be fruitful in other ways

Because God ain’t finished with us yet

No God ain't finished with any of us, while we are still kicking.

©Greg Altamore 2021

Photo by pepe nero on Unsplash