I am a 46 year-old married woman. My earliest memory of wanting to be a mother was when I was 12. To me, it was this automatic thing that would magically happen. It never occurred to me that it might not.

I had never met someone who told me they had tried to be a mother and it hadn’t worked out for them. People don’t talk about those things, you know? I lived my life with the idea in the back of my mind that, one day, I would become a mom.

I found the man I would end up marrying and we started trying for a family. Time passed and no baby. We went to a fertility clinic to get checked out: they told us we were fine. So we tried some more at home. Still no baby. We went back to the fertility clinic and now, things were no longer fine. I wish my doctor would have explained to me that waiting only a few months can make all the difference in our fertility.

I had to make a decision. I did not like the idea of putting all those hormones and medications in my body, but I had no choice. If I wanted a chance to get pregnant, I had to do IVF. So I did. For 5 years, needles (poor needle-phobic me!), doctors’ appointments, several positive pregnancy tests that all ended up in me losing my little embryos… the sadness in me grew greater and greater…I needed help to overcome this grief that I could not handle by myself.

I took part in a Reignite weekend organized by Gateway Women. During this event, I met women just like me who were trying to make sense of their journey, make sense of their lives, and make sense of their legacy. During the workshop, we had to answer certain questions. I came across this one: “What will be your legacy in this world?” I was stumped. I had no answer. I had no baby. Isn’t that what our legacy is supposed to be? But then again, my life was also not as it was supposed to be …. so I started to think outside the box.

I had to take off my rose-colored glasses. This meant I had to put aside what I thought my life should be and instead see it for what it was now. A childless life that I did not choose but that I had to reinvent for myself. What motivated me to make this change? My ancestors. I come from a bicultural background. On my father’s side, my Jewish grandfather came to America from Eastern Europe to escape the Russian army, which was basically slavery. He came here to give a better life to his children. On my mother’s side, my Catholic grandparents were “pure laine”, born in a small town in the province of Québec. My grandmother gave birth to 13 children, under the strict eye of the church, to populate their own cultural minority group. They too did all this for the benefit of their children. All these people, part of a special “club” that I am not part of. All these people, fighting for their children, through their efforts, blood, sweat and tears, all related by the same blood - my blood - said blood that I am not contributing to perpetuate.

That’s a tough pill to swallow. I felt guilty. I felt inadequate. I felt unworthy.

And then, my resilience kicked in and I told myself that I owe it to them to continue living my life as best I can, in honor of their efforts. No more guilt. No more feeling inadequate or unworthy. I decided that I would reinvent my legacy, but it would be on my own terms. I decided, on that Gateway Workshop day, that my legacy was going to be… random acts of kindness.

I am a speech-language pathologist working with young children, a helping profession, and it is in my personality to help others. I am good at it. Why not make this my legacy? So that is what I have been doing. Once in a while, I help people around me without asking anything in return. And while I am helping them, I remind myself of why I am doing this. I want to be remembered for these acts, yes, but I am also doing it to bring a little goodness to a world that needs it so. I do it to bring joy to my fellow human family, since I cannot have my own through my blood.

When we cannot have our own children, we realize that the word “family” can be extended to anyone, whether they be human or animal. Our family can be anyone we choose. We make up the rules. And those rules can be whatever we want. How cool is that? Wow… I am using the word “cool” while talking about my childless future… I never thought this day would come… a day where I can feel proud and worthy of who I am, including my childlessness. I survived. I made it. I took off my rose-colored glasses. I put them away for good.

I hope my Zayde and Bubbe and Grand-maman and Grand-papa are looking down on me and that they feel that they “made it”. Anyway, whether they can hear me or not, I send them a warm-hearted Thank You!

Marie-Hélène Brody