I sit here very tired after spending a day hosting visitors and having my partners son all weekend.

This blog is actually from 2017! But when I read over it, I felt it still very much applies.

I have read many posts from others who have shared amazing experiences and deep meaningful thoughts which has been so lovely to see, yet so very wounding also. Wounding because I can relate to most and also because it is a sad reality that many suffer infertility. And trust me it is a suffering.

I am not at a stage in my life where children were (before diagnosis) and are now (after diagnosis) a plan for the future (although I always wanted them). It is extremely mind blowing to have to hear you are infertile before you had even considered starting a family, I really did take for granted that it would just happen for me when the time was right.

How wrong I was.

It is very hard to hear of pregnancy announcements. And I feel guilt for saying that it truly pisses me off that some will become parents, when they can barely look after themselves. All of those children taken into care, all of those children neglected, all of those unplanned ‘oh well’ children, all of those irresponsible parents……

In fact, I don’t feel too guilty…. and who can really blame me?

It’s been a tough few months for me personally. This diagnosis of premature ovarian failure (early menopause) has quite literally kicked the shit out of me both physically and mentally.

It is just still so RAW.

But I am not writing this for pity. I simply ask that more acknowledgment is given to such a shit diagnosis. I ask that you bare in mind your loved ones who may be struggling with fertility, struggling because they cannot be a mother/father, struggling that they won’t be a grandparent, struggling because they have suffered loss of their child/children, struggling because of struggling!…..

Send them a text, give them a call or squeeze them extra tight next time you see them.

“You cannot erase someone’s pain, but you could help it hurt a little less…..”



2 thoughts on “World Childless Week 2019

  1. Hello, I’m a Sikh British born living among family members who don’t deal with grief very well.

    I was 29 when I began having investigations for right hip and leg pain. The tests revealed a large cyst requiring removal from my hip area. Fast forward, I lost my right ovary and most of my (already small) left ovary because there was a cyst in that one too. My partner at the time didnt just dump me bcoz I couldn’t have children, we was sleeping with someone else during the time I was due to have my op. So I lost my partner….I also began to lose my mind. I didnt know I was grieving. I didn’t know where to turn, I couldn’t make sense of any of my emotions and I fell head first into an ocean of depression. 8 months later the symptoms of menopause began (in epic proportions may I add) and then after a further 3 months I got my diagnosis of POF now referred to as POI premature ovarian insufficiency. It had been a year since my operation. After that diagnosis everything changed. Now it would seem I lost my ability to have children and with that I felt I lost my ‘womanhood’ too. Friends left, or through therapy I left them realising I was being used as a resource to help other people function well. I found it difficult to be in relationships and being intimate with a man was so uncomfortable. I didn’t see the point in love making anymore.

    Losing your ability to have children following on from early menopause is like being kicked when you’re down rolling downhill off a steep mountain cliff. It is an epic rapid decent towards a deep dark hole of grief. You fight this battle in the dark and it takes time to find the light again as you climb back out. You really suffer. Being Sikh made it so hard because of the cultural issues that come along with it.

    I’m able to cope much better with my loss now and am making new waves from the ocean of grief I swum through. I can see a shore line and am closer to a happier life but this journey has been terrifying, exhausting and lonely.

    Reaching out for help from empaths is the best decision to take. If it involves therapy all the better.

    For me, I’m trying to shift from loneliness to solitude. Respecting my journey and truth and not feeling uncomfortable about sharing what has been such a tumultuous journey. I’m discovering new ways of living a life on my terms never really being able to fully let go of my loss.

    This is tough shit, only the strong get tested in this way and from every angle.

    Most experiences I have around babies and pregnancy etc are felt with inverted emotions. When most are happy I am sad. When someone comes to realise the pain and suffering of child loss, I am compassionate but know that even for a brief moment that person/couple experience a fraction of what it is like for me.

    It’s a peculiar thing to stand on the edges of society and yet see so clearly how dishonourable people can be to vulnerable children and babies. We see the world so differently and through so many different ways. You become very perceptive.

    You won’t find a better friend than that who has lost almost everything except their dignity and integrity.



    1. Hey,

      Thank you so much for your message and for being so honest and open about your experience.

      It certainly sounds like you’ve been through a tremendous journey! I feel so saddened about everything you went through and the events that happened after discovering you had cysts etc. I am sure it was a massive shock enough that this was all happening to you but to then deal with the discovery your partner was unfaithful and going through a breakup must have been horrendous.

      I can relate to feeling like you’ve completely lost touch with your emotions and not having a clue where to turn. I definitely had a stint of feeling like I had lost everything, my whole life was a lie and I had no clue how on earth to move out of this shit storm I had ended up in.
      I too had the same experiences with friends, relationships and feeling that I wasn’t a woman anymore. I used to think ‘I can’t even do what I am naturally supposed to do and that’s reproduce, so what kind of a woman am I?’

      I lost friends but on reflection I am glad. Like you I had ‘friends’ that would use me to better their lives but when I needed them they were no where to be found, or if they were around they were incredibly unhelpful. I also had ‘friends’ that loved the fact I was going through an horrendous time and would cleverly make me feel worse about myself. I am really pleased to say that I feel my circle is a lot better now and I have some great people by my side. But I will never forget the isolation, exhaustion and rejection I felt before.

      I agree that only the strong seem to get tested. And from my experience all of the women I have spoken to who are infertile would make fantastic parents. Yet all around all I see are people having children who really shouldn’t be raising the next generation. (Obviously there are some fantastic parents out there too)

      I am really pleased you shared some of your journey with me and I am also pleased that you are feeling able to cope much better than before. From my experience it does get easier, the loss/grief and symptoms of POI never seem to really go away but how I manage them is becoming more beneficial, especially for my mental health in particular. Also, we can only do our best and even when we feel we can’t that is ok too. Self care is so important and that is probably the most significant thing I have learnt since diagnosis. Your health is your wealth!

      It would be lovely to hear from you again and I wish you all the best in the rest of your journey. You, we and others in our situation are amazing and doing a fantastic job at living a life we did not ask for nor was prepared for.

      Steph x


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