Page 16 - Issue 05 2nd edition

Dealing with something traumatic is rough, wonderful friends who were willing to listen
but it becomes harder still when you feel
like no one around you understands what
you’re going through. During a long and
arduous infertility journey, it is very
common to find yourself being the only
childless not by choice member among your
group of friends and family. In my case, I
struggled to conceive for close to eight
years, and though I know other people who
have struggled, they all ended up with a
baby in the end. I also have friends who are
childless by choice, and while they are a
godsend in that our lifestyles and interests
are now similar, they haven’t experienced
the extreme roller coaster of emotions that
infertility can cause. Who could I relate to?
I think a lot of the childless not by choice
end up feeling isolated and alone, which can
lead to deeper, longer-lasting grief. After
my last failed IVF treatment, at age 44, I
finally had to give up the dream of ever
having children. The emotional trauma and
the toll that all my fertility treatments and
negative outcomes had taken was
indescribable. I couldn’t see any way out of
the pain—but I knew I needed help to get to
the other side of my grief.
The first thing I did was set up a counselling
appointment. In the past, I’d had two great
experiences with counsellors—the first
helped me through my anxiety and panic
attacks during university, and the second
helped me through my divorce. Though
opening up and talking about difficult issues
might not be everyone’s cup of tea, I’ve
always responded well to talking things
through whether it be with friends or
professionals. With childlessness, though, I
felt quite isolated—through no fault of my
16 The Childless Not By Choice Magazine: Sept/Oct 2018 Issue #05
anytime. I just felt like no one I knew could
really understand what I was going through.
My fertility clinic offered one free counselling
session along with IVF treatment (that’s
right—only one). I made an appointment
about a week after that final phone call that
let me know I wouldn’t ever be a mother. I
thought that it would really help, and I was
fully prepared to pay for more sessions if it
did (though after the huge financial burden
that Canadian residents undergoing IVF
face, it was very hard to justify any further
spending).
However, the session wasn’t a great fit. The
counsellor got focused on the fact that I was
divorced after the first four years of trying
to conceive, and she mainly wanted to talk
about that though I’d long since moved on—
I’d just undergone IVF with my current
partner and wasn’t all that interested in
discussing my divorce from years earlier. I
wanted to know how to get through this
latest stage of grief—the one that comes
with finally deciding to give up the dream—
but our time ran out and I left that
appointment not feeling any better.
I wondered where I could turn to next. I
ended up turning where I often do—to
research and books. I searched Amazon for
anything related to infertility (there really
isn’t enough out there!) and read some
wonderful books by Jody Day and Lisa
Manterfield. Finally, stories I could relate to!
Reading about the grief they experienced
due to infertility and how they overcame it
with time, work, and help was a lifesaver.
However, I was still feeling isolated and
craving a more of a connection. I searched