Can you miss something you never had?

I have always wanted children so much so that I have picked out names that I would like. I have one for a girl and one for a boy that I have thought about over the years. It got so far that I could see my children in my head. I could hear them laughing as they were running towards me. Being single and getting closer and closer to 40, I started to get more concerned about the passage of time. It was not until I had health concerns that I really started to fall apart, thinking of the possibility that I may never have children.  It is in these circumstances, with me holding in another cry while breaking down what I was feeling, that I was asked: “Can you really miss what you never had?”

I am not going to lie. I was taken aback by this question. Can you miss…? When you break up with a person, do you not mourn over what you could have been? When you don’t get a job, do you not get down over what it could have meant for you? Sure, a part of it is the rejection aspect of it; most people will fantasise about what things would be like, how would this be any different? It is all that could have been, what should have been, what would have been if only…

When we are little girls, we keep getting told how we are going to grow up and find somebody to love and have children. It is all “I am showing you this so you can do it when you have children”. These and that you can pass on to your children, lovely heirlooms to put away. Getting told how they will wait and see how I will raise my children.

I was so alone, and I thought nobody was ever going to like me for who I am or see me for what I was. I got it into my head that I would have my children, and they are going to love me just like I loved my parents, and then I will not be alone. I did some more growing, and then I started to think what if I have my children and I will mess them up just like I was messed up. What if they grow up and they don’t love me either? What if I am not good enough to have children?

I figured I would just meet the right person, and then he would help me raise them. He will keep things on track, and my children will be just fine. I go from one relationship to the next, trying to find the right person, but none of them seems right. I am still young, and I am still learning, and I am figuring that I have all the time in the world. People keep on putting pressure and asking when I am going to get married, when I am going to have children, that I am 25 and I will be left on the shelf and that nobody will want me then. I have learned from other people’s lives, and I know how important it is to have the right mix, the right relationship, before I start thinking about children. If I get married, I only want to do it once and to make sure that my children have everything that they need.

I found somebody who seemed right, said all the right things, and promised everything that I ever wanted. In the beginning, it all seemed like all my dreams were going to finally come true, and then, there was a shift. It starts with a joke that he loves his money and children are expensive, that he is going to live his life. It strikes a sharp note; I just figured it was just that, a joke. And the years pass, and I still hope, part hope, part fear holding me back. I can see all my friends having children, and I am so happy for them. These little perfect beings. A perfect mixture of the people that I love and that mean so much to me. I am so happy for them, I can’t help feeling sad for myself. Because I can see that my children are nowhere close to becoming reality. Nothing really prepares you for hearing that if anything were to happen, there are pills to make things right, just in case anybody got any ideas.

When Bruno came into my life, he became my baby. I poured all my motherly instincts into raising him, taking care of him. When we got him, he would love to come and sleep on my ankles, always wanting to be next to me. He was so small, and he needed so much help to grow big and strong. So many things he needed to learn, and I didn’t quite know how to teach them to him because I never had a dog of my own. One day, I got so angry one time that he had done his business on the carpet, and I was going after him to catch him. I saw him cowering in a corner, and I saw myself as a child, and I saw the reflection of the monster in his eyes. It had been me cowering as a child, as I knew that I was going to be beaten, and now I saw that I was carrying the same monster I was afraid of in my heart, and that just stopped me in my tracks, and I started to cry. He came and started licking my face, which just made me cry harder because I could see myself more and more in him, still loving them, regardless. The only thought that was rolling in my head was “How could I ever be someone’s parent when I am like this?” I changed that day. I started to be more aware of myself and my energy and how my energy is affecting this little soul. Every day I worry still if I make him happy. If I am good enough for him. It makes me so happy to see him wagging his tail in his sleep. It makes me feel like he had a good day. It makes me happy to see him coming to me when he is scared or coming to cuddle with me when he is not feeling well. It breaks my heart when he is sick, and I don’t know how to help him, but I pull myself together, and I know that I need to show up for him. My only concern is that I bring as much happiness to him as he brings to me.

People are so cruel to women. We keep on getting asked when we are going to have children again and again, and if we have one, they ask when the second one is coming. Nobody knows that maybe someone can’t have children, that somebody might have lost a pregnancy, or even worse, that their child just died in the womb. People don’t accept a woman who says she just doesn’t want children. They dismiss her and say she will change her mind. People just keep on asking about it every chance they get. A fine example is when I posted a picture of myself on Facebook, and somebody reached out to me to ask me if I am pregnant. I was not. I was just fatter. I am so glad this is what they decided to break a decade of silence over. If missing a good opportunity to shut up was a person… Or I find myself on a date, and this red flag of a man asks me what is wrong with me and why I never had children, I smile, and I say that it just hasn’t happened for me yet, it is something that I want in my life.

Time passes still, and I find myself single in my late thirties. I know I have time left, but not much. Someone told me I am worrying for nothing. Turns out they thought I was 25. She changed her tune so fast when I confirmed my age. People also suggested that I could have a child on my own and told me about single mothers, and that I am no different, except I don’t have the kind of support system that will allow me to have a child on my own. I know that I will struggle all the way, and my biggest fear is that I will start to blame that child for all my failings, for all that could have been, for anything that I could have done and was too scared to do. I grew up with “I sacrificed myself for you”, and I would not want to bring that on somebody just so I can say that I am a mom. People can make their decisions, and I judge no one for theirs; I do judge myself very harshly regarding what I can offer.

Sometimes, the universe has a funny way of testing you, and it sends you an illness. Unclear still what it is and what it could bring, what it does for sure, it brings into sharp focus all my fears. Five rounds on Google playing “what type of cancer could this be?”, a bit of what the doctors say, and it seems that every single option that they bring to the table has infertility at the top of the list of effects. Not a certainty, just a possibility. I keep telling myself that I should just keep calm and stay in the moment, don’t overthink, and just stay at the level I am at, and all will be revealed. Do I face this situation with grace and gravitas? No, I crumble, I start mourning the children that I will never have. Tell myself that we don’t always get what we want in life, and not everybody is destined to have children. Maybe not everybody gets the family, the picket fence and the happily ever after. My therapist asked me if I had the certainty or if anybody specifically said that, I don’t work that way. I start emotionally cutting this way. When I get the news, I cannot bear it. I hurt my own feelings, just in case.

I don’t know what will happen. It might very well be that I will never have children, it may be that I will, and then it will be my duty to let them know that they are wanted and loved and seen. What I do know with certainty is that you can miss something that you never had. That the longing can have you crying in the night. It can hurt your soul, and it can bring you to your knees with sorrow. My only wish is that people stop asking women about having children. You never know when, in making conversation and casually about it, you can stab at the most fragile and painful part of somebody’s soul.