by Guest Author, Pamela M. Tsigdinos
If someone had told me 10 years ago that I would have a magical life after infertility, I probably would have decked them. Such was my anger and despair over the loss of a fragile but long-held dream and more than a decade of trying, fruitlessly, to conceive with the man I adore. I was bitter, broken and inconsolable.
Furthermore, I felt like a failure. How could I not? The conventional wisdom -- reinforced by success story after success story -- is that there is only one happy ending to the infertility tale and it included a baby.
Furthermore, I felt like a failure. How could I not? The conventional wisdom -- reinforced by success story after success story -- is that there is only one happy ending to the infertility tale and it included a baby.
What murky future awaited me, I wondered?
I tried on different labels. Childless seemed too sad and reinforced a sense of guilt that I had a hard time shaking. Guilt? Yes. As if all the other emotions didn’t complicate things enough I felt guilty about stopping treatments. Was I turning my back on my children? Did I try hard enough? Well, after nearly a decade of pursuing Clomid, timed cycles, countless diagnostics, eight IUIs, two surgeries and three IVFs, I already felt deeply the loss of my children to be and I didn’t want to be defined by a loss.
No one celebrates loss.
Childfree? No. It felt too artificial. I didn’t swear off children. I love my nieces and nephews. I enjoy seeing them grow into charming little people. I hadn’t arrived at an immutable decision to surrender parenthood forever. If I had a miracle pregnancy (which I secretly still hoped for years after treatment ended) I would have been over the moon.
Non-mom? It was my cheeky comeback to the smug, sanctimonious moms who reveled in their “momminess,” who acted like halos were handed out in the delivery room. As a student of the mommy phenomenon, I’ve discovered that just because a woman calls herself a “MOM” doesn’t make her a better person. I’ve seen plenty of atrocious moms who seem to love the label more than the job.
No. I am foregoing a label. I am simply me: a happy woman who is grateful to be on the other side of the hell that I lived with and through. I adore my husband more than ever. I love my life. I cherish my friends. I enjoy the freedom to live unencumbered by expectations and pre-determined milestones. I feel a certain agelessness, a magic that comes with embracing the unknown.
Most of all, I am at peace.
There is more than one happy ending.
Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos is the author of Silent Sorority: A (Barren) Woman Gets Busy, Angry, Lost and Found. Winner of the RESOLVE 2010 Best Book Award
Thank you, dear friend Pamela! I recall these words in your book. Thank you for being the rare voice among us all saying the world won't end and life can still be valuable. And it isn't "sour grapes" or false rationalization to consider life without children.
ReplyDeletePamela,
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad I get to be friends with you in real life... because I see the photos of you and Alex, your trips, your smiles, your life... and I know it's all true. Your life IS magical, because you've made it magical.
I am so thankful to have you to look to when I am getting anxious about the future and wonder what "murky future awaits me".
@Stephanie @Kim: I fully appreciate how hard it must be to consider an outcome that is the opposite of what you're working toward -- especially in the midst of treatment. Your friendship is a gift. xx
ReplyDeleteWe need LIKE buttons for comments too! LIKE, LIKE, LIKE!! Or maybe they should be LOVE buttons ;) Loved this post! I couldn't agree more!
ReplyDeletedear Pamela,
ReplyDeletewhat a great post!
I am still not on the other side of the hell... and it means so much to me to see that there is more than one happy ending.
lots of love,
Lucy