I opened up a few months’ back on an Instagram post about our own struggles with infertility but after a conversation with a fellow sufferer and reading about the media’s wholly unrealistic coverage of later life pregnancies, I realised it’s something I’ve never broached on the blog. And so I decided that it’s time that I talk about it. It’s a subject that’s close to my heart because it’s something we have dealt with ourselves and many women are dealing with it – so why aren’t we talking about it more?
According to The Human Fertilisation & Embryology Authority (HFEA) in 2014, 52,288 women had a total of 67,708 cycles of IVF. It’s now widely accepted that these procedures are performed as frequently as other well-known procedures, such as having tonsils removed. And yet how often do we hear them speak? ~ The Pool
The thing is, women are often presented as having one mission in life – to bear children and to raise a family. Which we all know is ridiculous of course. However, growing up as a child in the 70’s and a teen in the 80’s, I felt a bit strange, the odd one out, because I didn’t really see myself having kids. I had a pretty full-on crazy life in my 20s and despite a consistent string of relationships, there was never anyone who I felt I wanted to have kids with. Plus, I was enjoying my independence, picking up and moving where I wanted to when I wanted (I moved a total of 20 times over a 20 year time period!). I knew there was no way a baby could fit into my lifestyle.
So I did what any ‘modern woman’ in the 90’s and early 00’s would do. I concentrated on my career and put off the whole idea of having children – for years. When I was in a long-term relationship, I would get well-meaning friends asking when we were going to start a family. I’d always answer, ‘I’d never say never but just not now’. The truth was, I actually just didn’t want them at the time and I certainly couldn’t see myself having them with whomever I was with (red flag of course). It’s not that I didn’t like kids – plenty of my friends had them and they were fun for, like, half an hour – but after that, I was happy to say goodbye and let the parents do all the dirty work. I simply wasn’t interested in leading “that sort of life.”
Fast forward to my mid-30s and I met Wayne. He was different to every other guy I’d ever dated in the past. Admittedly, I had been attracted to men who were slightly unstable in the past (I must have had some weird thought in my head of ‘saving them’ or whatever but that’s a whole other subject) and so having children was just not something I saw myself doing. But Wayne was emotionally stable and kind and honest and he had his shit together. Over time, our life and our lives intertwined effortlessly. We were very different (still are!) but somehow, it all just worked, it felt totally right. We balanced each other out beautifully. Then one day, aged 38, after we’d had a bit of an ‘accident’ with contraception, I realised my period was late.
In the past, an accident like that would have seen me heading straight to the pharmacist for a morning-after pill but something about this was different. I began to wonder, ‘what if…’ and kept putting off the visit. We weren’t really in a great position to have children but who ever is? We were both 38, I knew it was a sort of ‘now or never’ situation and so I left it. I began to fantasise about having a baby – something I’d never done in the past. I realised it would be a complete upheaval but we would get by, we would be fine. We’d welcome a child into our lives and things would change forever. For once, I wasn’t scared off by the prospect. I realised, for once in my life, that I was actually ready.
I was around 10 days late when I finally decided to take the pregnancy test. By that point, I was so worked up, so sure I was pregnant, so sure this was going to be the biggest, most life-altering thing I’d ever done. I was excited and I was terrified. When the test came up negative, I walked out of the bathroom to Wayne who was waiting for the results with as much anticipation as I was. He saw my fallen face and scooped me up as I sobbed. I got my period the next day.
We talked after that and cried together as we realised it was time. We wanted to keep trying. We wanted a child and we were actually going to do this. What was originally an ‘accident’ turned into a concerted effort to get pregnant. And yet, month after frustrating month, my period came. After around 8 months of trying, I spoke to my doctor about it and she said once it was a year or so, to come in and they’ll run some tests.
But a year of going through disappointment, crestfallen at seeing the blood month after month, I had started to detach myself from the idea. There was some self-preservation going on there, I know. I simply couldn’t handle the fact that I couldn’t get pregnant when everyone around me seemed to be making birth announcements. What was wrong with us? I had friends who got pregnant the first time they tried. And here we were, month after month, and just nothing. I felt like time was running out so quickly. We decided to keep trying until I turned 40. I didn’t return for the tests. I didn’t want to know.
Now because your fertility starts to really drop after the age of 35, the NHS will not pay for infertility treatment (IVF) after 40 as it so often doesn’t work (something else people don’t seem to talk about) and so once I hit and surpassed this age, we realised it probably wasn’t going to happen for us. By this point, I had been going for medical tests due to some very painful periods. I had been hospitalised in the past with ovarian cysts and fibroids. I started reading up on infertility and realised that endometriosis may be the reason I was struggling to get pregnant as it could cause infertility in some women.
I found out last year after numerous tests and an MRI that the suspected endometriosis was finally diagnosed as adenomyosis (where the inner lining of the uterus (the endometrium) breaks through the muscle wall of the uterus (the myometrium) and these cells grow in the walls of the uterus). At this time, there is still uncertainty as to whether this condition, in itself, causes infertility but there are studies that show adenomyosis may double the risk of miscarriage. So even if I had, by some miracle, gotten pregnant, there was no way to know whether it would have been successful or not.
Six years after deciding we wanted to start a family and 3 years after realising we probably never will, we have come to terms with it. We’ve dealt with the heartbreak and sorrow and we’ve decided we shall simply have a different kind of life and that’s okay. We have our fur babies whom we love dearly and who bring us so much joy. We remind ourselves of how lucky we are every single day for so many different reasons. My friends continue to get pregnant, I continue to see rolling pregnancy, birth and birthday announcements and the babies and children of friends on my social media feeds. I’m okay with it now.
But I think that the stigma surrounding infertility and the idea that somehow this makes you less of a woman has got to stop. We have to let go of the idea that pursuing IVF treatment is in any way a ‘failure’ or that the people going through it have to be silent about it. We have to acknowledge that IVF isn’t even always successful. We have to stop seeing women as ‘baby factories’ or ‘mums’ and nothing else as though they aren’t complete unless they have children. We have to respect those who decided to have families and those who decided not to. We must be sensitive to those who may struggle to get pregnant or who may want to but find themselves in circumstances where they can’t. And we need to allow women to be and do whatever they choose and acknowledge with respect that their choices may not be the same as our own.
My own experience – from not wanting children at all to wanting them and realising I couldn’t have them to coming to terms with it all – has been a long one. I don’t know where you are on your own journey but perhaps the more we hear of women’s struggles, the more normal it becomes. There are so many women out there struggling but staying silent. I hope my story inspires you in some way to talk to those you wish to and to never feel ashamed. You have never been less and you will never be less. I’ve got your back.
For more information and support on infertility or childlessness for whatever reason, do check out the site Gateway Women, it’s pretty brilliant.
Serious hell-yes for writing this, Kimberly. Women need to be seen as something other than people-producers or thought of as broken or wrong if they don’t want (or can’t have) children. I know from our chats how hard it’s been for you and Wayne, and hats right off to you for talking about it today. Because it needs to be talked about. This isn’t the type of shit that should be hushed about. This is real life. The more people that talk about it, the less stigma surrounds it. You’re one brave bitch, across the board xx
That’s really the crux of it, isn’t it? That a woman isn’t a REAL woman unless they bear children and if they can’t or won’t or haven’t due to circumstances in their life, they are somehow not whole. But yes, the more we see and hear about it all, the more normal it becomes. Thank you so much darling. Also, you should probably never introduce me to Cora because I’ll probably end up keeping her. ;) xx
What a brave article. I had a similar journey, so completely get it. Lots of love to you xx
Thank you lovely, nice to know we are not alone! xxx
Oh Kimberley, bless you. Our story is very different, I fell pregnant easily but it was carrying the pregnancy that was the problem. When we were 32, our son was born seemingly healthy and well – however all was not as it seemed and we now know that his brain didn’t form correctly in utero. He is profoundly disabled and will require full-time care for the rest of his life. He’s 6 now, and a joy to have in our lives, but we made the choice that another child was out of the question as we will never know what caused his disabilities, plus pregnancy came close to killing me on several occasions. We are the only couple in our friendship group to have a child, but everytime I see a pregnancy announcement etc I still go and have a cry in the bathroom because this isn’t how I thought our lives would be. Its a personal choice to have a child or not, and for whatever reason when that decision is taken out of your hands its deeply painful. I’m 38 now, and am trying to decide whether to finally ask to be sterilised or not, as the risks of another pregnancy are too great. So many of our friends would have loved to have children but for whatever reason it didn’t happen for them; thank you for bringing this into the light x
Oh Carolyn, your comment brought tears to my eyes. I’m so sorry to hear about your struggles but thank you for sharing your story. There are so many many reasons for someone not having children (or more children in your case) and it is so hard when the decision is not yours to make. Sending hugs and love xxx
I just wanted to send you a big hug. I have children with paws too. Cx
Thank you Catherine! “Children with paws” is such a cute turn of phrase! Give them a snuggle from me xxx
Thank you for being brave and sharing this.
Thank you lovely xxx
All my encouragement and joy to you. I am childless by choice but I felt the real pressure of not opting that way. We need to stop disrespecting women’s choices regarding their bodies.
Before I knew I couldn’t have them, I felt the same pressures so I totally understand. There shouldn’t be a stigma attached to deciding not to have children and yet it remains. It’s crazy, really. Sending hugs xxx
I start my IVF injections tomorrow (IVF newbie) and Iβm doing the whole emotional detachment thing… I put off having children because I wanted to be a strong, independent business woman. Iβm now with a partner I know will be a great dad. Iβm hoping for the best but preparing myself emotionally for that sinking feeling – the same one Iβve had at βtime time of the monthβ for the past 3 years. Itβs tough being a woman sometimes… Thanks for sharing your story!
Thank you for sharing your story, Vanessa and best of luck with the IVF. It’s a really hard road to go down and I hope you are getting plenty of support xxx
Ah, Kimberly, I’m sat here with tears in my eyes. You’ve written about this journey so articulately and from the heart.
Aww thank you darling, I’m glad I posted it – I’ve been in tears reading the responses!! xxx
A beautifully written post and I enjoyed reading it. Thank you.
Thank you Helen xxx
Thank you so much for sharing this Kimberly, and so eloquently & honestly too. I’m 23 and think about these things a lot… Hearing other peoples experiences is very powerful. You’re absolutely right that infertility needs to be discussed more; it’s not a taboo, it’s real life for tens of thousands of people. I hope this encourages others to share too. x
Thanks so much Rosanna, that means a lot to me! xxx
Thank you for talking about this. Infertility is a lonely journey and people who have never experienced it, as well meaning as they are, will never understand. The more people talk about it the less taboo it will be. We just had our second iui fail and are staring down ivf. Unfortunately the states are far behind on fertility coverage and we are looking at 20,000 dollars to get started on a journey that may never even work. I lay awake at nihjt all the time paralyzed with fear that we are literally putting all our eggs in one basket. It’s scary. The more people talk about it the more people you find that have walked in your shoes and the less lonely
You feel. I can truly say I know how you feel and I’m sorry. Infertility sucks and I don’t wish it upon my worst enemy. Thank you for speaking up. Hugs from America!!
As a woman who went through the same, I can’t thank you enough for publishing this post – you are not alone! Here’s hoping we can all speak so freely one day on this topic… xo
A very thoughtful and brave post sharing something that is so very personal. My story is somewhat similar at the start…Like you I used my 20s to have fun and build a career. My 30s were more about trying to find someone I would want to have children with (unsuccessfully I might add) until my world came crashing down at 38 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer and then that choice was taken away from me. 5 years on and I am still having cancer treatment which triggered early menopause so I have accepted I will never have children of my own. I think the hardest for me was not the knowledge that I wouldn’t have any but that the choice was taken away.
It’s tough sometimes when I see my friends with their kids and that unconditional love they get. It’s hard as well when people ask why I don’t have any or why I don’t want kids…I don’t always want to have to explain but people leave you alone when you tell them you can’t versus you don’t want to. And I can honestly say, that I might have chosen not to have any regardless of the cancer. I love kids but like you, I also liked my independence and unlike you I still haven’t met the right guy.
I am lucky that I have gorgeous nieces and nephew and lots of surrogate kids in my friends’ offsprings and I get to play house once in a while and go home to my own fur baby…Still sometimes, I can’t help but think about the missed opportunity…I would have been a great mom.
Amen. So well put.
I second what everyone has already said, and you have my complete support in your post and decision. I, too, wish more people would be open about infertility, miscarriage, etc. I know some of my friends might think I overshare at time, but I know in my heart that by sharing my own struggles, someone out there will relate and connect and not feel so alone in the world. It’s a tough road filled with heartache and grief, but as women, we can make it easier on one another by being willing to talk and share and let others know they are NOT alone.
Having watched my best friend go through a similar experience and another who actually dreamt of having a football team of kids but never met anyone that was her Mr Right, I can completely relate to your journey. I have cried with them and been there when they most needed someone to talk to. My having had my own children along the way has made me more mindful of those who don’t. We should ALL remind ourselves we should never feel alone and sharing can be part of the healing process. Sharing your journey will help others so thank you…. XOX
Coincidentally I was listening to a Women’s Hour podcast about this topic today. Women’s Hour doesn’t shy away from any topic and I highly recommend it to you all. This week they’re discussing sex in a long term relationship, another subject we don’t openly discuss. A young woman with two small children was talking about the difficulties she and her partner are experiencing with keeping their sex life alive. In my experience, having children does not enhance a relationship but that’s only my experience. Being a parent is HARD, the hardest job I’ve ever done. Being the mother of small children was not the happiest time in my life and more women need to tell it like it is. Yes I love my children very much. I’m now a grandma of two small children and see how demanding it is for my son and his wife. My daughter-in-law found it difficult to conceive as an older woman. She was desperate to have children but now she has them she seems frazzled and unhappy much of the time. Of course she loves her children but we’ve all noticed she seems to find ways of not spending too much time with them. Not judging her but think it’s worth mentioning. She has a nanny now.
Brave article and thank-you for sharing. I agree the more these issues are talked about the better. I also agree with respecting people whatever their choice in life is better than thinking there is only one way for everyone.
Big hugs and respect to everyone both male and female who has wanted children and this has not been possible for them – itβs tough. Equally respect to those who are parents as thatβs tough too in different ways xoxox
Just starting my last round of IVF. Thank you for sharing x
Loved your post. I’m certain you have helped other women feel that they are not alone. You are brave, strong and fabulous! Sending you love from Nashville.
It’s such a good idea to share this – like you say, people need to talk about this and make it an open topic and remove the taboos. I really feel for what you’ve gone through, as you know. I also worry so much about my situation. I’m 38 in December and I just don’t know if I’ve left it too late. The thing is, you never know! For all I know, maybe I could never have had children – even if I had tried in my twenties. Or maybe I could have, but that window has passed. Or maybe Rob can’t. Or maybe we’ll try next year after the wedding, and won’t have any troubles. Unfortunately, that seems like the least likely scenario at my age, and I do worry about it. People say to me, “oh, it’s fine – you’ve got plenty of time. Lots of people are having kids late these days” – but that is exactly what you mentioned regarding the unrealistic media coverage! I haven’t got plenty of time – my fertility has been rapidly dropping for years!!! Anyway, I could worry endlessly about this…
Thanks for the brave and honest post! xx
Thank you for sharing this! I think you are so brave for sharing something a lot of people wonβt talk about, although I am so curious as to why there is such a stigma around infertility anyway. I had a friend who had multiple rounds of IVF and is very open about it, but I know of others who have who keep it a secret from most people… Canβt understand why there is anything to keep a secret! Love that you are broaching this subject and being so authentic. Your blog is one of my favorites, and keeping it real like this makes it even better!!
Agree with you Kristen, there should be no stigma. I heard a doctor saying that it would be helpful if celebrities who have babies in later life were open about their pregnancies and the IVF treatment they received. He said they were open about lots of things in their lives but rarely about having IVF. He said it gave a false message to women that it was easier to conceive in later life than it actually is. Keeping it a secret also reinforces the belief that it is something to hide. Some women may not want to talk about it whilst they’re going through it but after the baby is born why not be open about it? Talking about it helps other women to realise that IVF is not something you need to hide.
Thank you for raising the topic of being a childless woman and sharing your story. At the age of 45 I find that there’s usually an awkward pause when I answer ‘no’ to the question of whether I have any children. I feel that I’m supposed to give an explanation, or else some people think it’s ok to just ask me why not. I have even been told a couple of times that it’s a ‘selfish life’ not to have kids… can you believe that? I hope one day that women and their ‘role’ will not be so judged and be ‘normal’ to make these choices. I was too mentally ill to have kids in my twenties. Life settled down very well in my thirties and I wanted to have kids. But my long term relationship ended, and at 39 I decided I didn’t wanted to be a single older parent. My choice ultimately, but not an easy one to live with.
I was adopted and raised an only child. All I ever wanted was to have kids. I had three after having a large ovarian cyst, my tube and my left ovary removed. My best friend in the whole world was dealing with infertility and her last IVF cycle ended up a tubal pregnancy which resulted in her losing the baby and her tube. I got pregnant and she went the adoption route. We both now have 13 year old daughters who we raised very closely together. I think I was sent to her to help her through that and realize that adoption or birth still makes a family. It don’t matter how they came into this world.
Thank you for this very personal post!
So many things you are talking about here and I’ve also been through that as a woman… the way people see us as ‘Baby makers’, having to justify that you don’t feel ‘ready’ or just don’t feel the need to have kids in your life yet, and then the late period that changes everything and makes you realised you finally want a little human in your life!
I’ve been through all this and didn’t know anyone around me who felt the same.
I didn’t have had to deal with infertility as you did so I only can imagine how difficult it has been for you and Wayne…
Thank you so much for sharing Kimberly, thank you for your honesty and thank you for making my days every time I receive flowers!!!!
XO
That canβt have been an easy article to write, so well done. Huge admiration for your honesty and opening up about such a personal & emotional issue. I love reading your articles, whatever the subject. Thank you.
What a beautiful brave lady you are sharing your story. I am very fortunate in having two children, it never occurred to me that maybe we wouldn’t be able to have any, but that doesn’t mean that those who choose not to or are unable to do so are any less of a woman than I am. Keep smiling Kimberly and doing what you do, you are an inspiration whether you’re blogging about life, interiors, or beauty. x
The feeling that any unprepared 15 year old is able to conceive and you – who has actively chosen to be a parent – can’t, is heartbreaking. I started a little younger than you, so that may be why the outcome was different but, I knew I had polycystic ovaries (although my periods were regular as clockwork) in my mid twenties. Like you I didn’t want children then, so I wasn’t bothered by it, then when I got married at 29 I knew my husband desperately wanted children and for him I was prepared to do anything. I conceived and lost the pregnancy 5 times – one at 11 weeks and 6 days. That was a very hard time because all our friends thought we were ‘out of the woods’. I was 32 at that stage and was told that if I miscarried a sixth time I would be put straight onto IVF. I changed my lifestyle, stopped working, went to dance classes, did loads of natural therapies and meditations and ate well. In Sept 1997 I conceived and in June 1998 a healthy 9 pound baby boy was born and guess what, I hated every moment of being pregnant! It’s supposed to be this incredible experience and you’re supposed to feel enriched by it. I didn’t. But here’s the bit I want to say, its a process. Being a parent of young children is tough – mostly its not fun, it requires enormous patience and selflessness and you become invisible, your identity is about being wife and mother, it shrinks your world to the size of your child and finding yourself inside that framework takes courage that you didn’t even know you needed. It’s a life shift that no-one tells you about in the same way that motherhood is ‘supposed’ to be the pinnacle of the female experience. Twenty years on and I have a 19 year old son at uni whom I adore and a 17 year daughter doing A levels who is close to the light of my life. I have learned so much from them – children are great teachers – but it wasn’t their childhood that I enjoyed, it’s been their teens. Now – only now – I can say I am enriched and blessed to have had children, but the process of getting these wonderful humans to young adulthood is hard and learning that you must follow your intuition regardless of criticism is fundamental to that – its being true to yourself that gets you through.
So brave and so beautiful, big hugs my darling, you are perfect Lyn x
Such a moving post. Thank you for sharing this. (Struggling to add my own two cents here as this is a whole world I have yet to consider or deal with, but you’re right, it is so important to talk about these things).
A brilliant post Kimberly. Xxx
Beautifully written Kimberly Xxx
I had IVF (at 35) before my chemo started but i’m not really sure that I actually want to have kids. I’m not sure either of us do. But with the fear that the option could be taken away from me, I went for it.
Now I feel that there’s a pressure to use the embryos we have store and I don’t like it!
But on the plus side it has been a great out during that awkward ‘why don’t you have children yet’ convo. You drop the C-bomb and people are instantly changing the subject ;)
It’s a difficult thing to talk about though isn’t it because if you’re 30-40’s without kids people just assume there is something wrong with you! Thanks for blogging about it!
Thank you for writing this, my story is so very similar. When I tell people now why we didnβt do conventional IVF – because at 41 the chance of success was about 5% for me – they are surprised, so itβs absolutelt clear we need more openness around this information.
Lots and lots of love to you. There shouldn’t be any stigma attached to not wanting or being able to have children, it doesn’t make you any less of a woman or human. You’re one heck of a wonderful and fabulous person, I hope there are lots of people in your life who never let you forget that! Thank you for talking about this. β€οΈοΈ
Thanks for sharing Kimberley. I went through something similar and it still stings now when people ask whether or not I have children. Its hard enough as it is facing up to ageing without being reminded that you have been unable to undertake what some perceive as a right of passage. There should’t be a stigma; for some women its a conscious choice, for others a struggle and either way people need to realise its personal, not a topic for discussion. I wish you and Wayne all the happiness in your lives together and thank you for being so open. A really well thought out and honest post x
I found your blog today and not only am I feeling inspired for my home but I am also inspired by your honesty and braveness in the above post. So frank and yet beautiful written in confronting a topic that is surrounded by secrets, stigma and struggle. Well done for standing up – telling your story and challenging perception around what is an individual journey for every woman x
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