I honestly believe that this may the
hardest blog entry I have written thus far. As I sit down to put ‘pen to paper’
after days of processing the words in my head, my palms are sweaty and I have
butterflies of nerves swarming in my stomach. Why so nervous? Because I am
admitting out loud to myself and to the world (well to my blog world) deep
feelings and thoughts on a topic that is very sensitive to people in general
and women in particular. A few weeks ago, I read a very interesting article on
Medium titled: “Beware the
curse of the middle-aged non-mother” and because the article resonated
with me so much I proceeded to post a link on Facebook. The article triggered
some really interesting discussion with female friends from all across the
globe, some with biological children and some with none. The vulnerability of
my friends and acquaintances on the Facebook discussion allowed me to really
unearth some of my own deep feelings on the topic of having a biological child.
For as long as I can remember there has been an undercurrent of doubt in my mind on my biological role of carrying and giving birth to another human. Maybe it is just the way I am wired or maybe it is an acknowledge of how life has unfolded for me. The struggle has inherently been around the sense that I have an obligation to the world to fulfill my biological duty and produce! I should be very clear at this point that my feelings in this written piece and in general are not a judgement of others decisions on whether or not they have biological children, my words are an expression of my own deep and for the longest time buried feelings. Children are wonderful. I am blessed to have many incredible little people in my life. Being with them makes me smile and to see the pureness of innocence, curiosity and achievement. I can remember at age 19 being introduced to Michael, first a baby then an amazing little boy and now an incredible young man, and being in awe at the emotions that being with a baby can raise. I watch Michael’s mother learn to parent under challenging circumstances and I admired how much she gave of herself. I compare her journey with that of my own mother’s journey and how much she too gave so much to my sister and I. It is a beautiful gift to give another human being, it is giving a part of you so that your child can thrive. I see the same pattern more recently in friends as they have children in their mid to late 30s, and I am blessed to be a part of those children’s life. Being a part of these children’s lives and observing my friends be incredible parents is certainly a privilege and one that enables me to connect with my own inner child and appreciate the simplicity and beauty of humanity. But was/is it for me?
In the moment I left my mother’s body and
entered the world, I swallowed amniotic fluid (I like to think I was in a hurry
to voice an opinion and so opened my mouth to shout too soon) and against the
wished of my mother and her doctor the hospital placed me in an incubator and pumped
it full of antibiotics. The result has been a lifelong battle with a
compromised immune system of bizarre infections and battles against
conventional medicine. In the past few years I have made peace with the reality
of my physical health and have learned to manage it, and most importantly I
have learned to love my body for what she is. I spent too many years hating my
body and blaming her for my inability to feel ‘whole’ in the world. I felt that
if I could just do everything that was ‘normal’ and ‘expected’ of me then I
would feel better. I ignored my body trying to tell me to manage my diet, I ignored
her when she told me I was pushing too hard. The past seven years since I moved
to Vancouver have had me embark on a journey, first of physical necessity as my
health fell apart and then of deep love for my body, to finally come to grips
with deep feelings of bodily shame. One of the tributaries of this shame was a deeply
buried feeling that my body does not have the physical capability to carry a
child. Ok that is not entirely true, I could try. It would be challenging and
complex, but not impossible. If this were a game of odds the rational thing would be to do would be
to walk away and accept ‘defeat’. But the desire to have a child is often not
rational, and indeed as women we often do it because it is expected of us and
our partner wants it. I gave into both of these beliefs for many years and it
nearly cost me my ability to return from self-hatred.
Someone I admire greatly here in Vancouver said to me at the beginning of June as I shared with her some of my thoughts on having a biological child, “Siobhán you have so much love and passion to give, just don’t think of it as limited to being challenged into a biological child”. Another close friend and I went for a walk recently and I shared some of my thoughts, she adamantly and with great conviction said, “my life is not worth only the imagined child I leave behind, I have so much more to give”. It made me think of my mother and what she left behind in the physical world, sure my sister and I and now my niece embody Jo’s genes, but Jo’s life was the thousands of people she had an impact on through her teaching, her friendship and generally just her love of the narrative of life. I might embody Jo’s genes but her love and humanity does not live on only through me. Jo was a woman larger than life and she inspires me every day not because she was my mother, but because she was/is a kindred spirit of social justice and seeing the curiosity, the beauty and the possibility that the world offers. Jo is one of a handful of individuals I have had the pleasure of encountering in my life who inspire me to live a fuller life determined by my own making.
An acquaintance asked me last week if I want or had wanted children (that conversation along with the Facebook discussion really framed this blog), and without thinking too long my instinctive answer to them was “yes in a perfect world”. A perfect world where my health was perfect, a perfect world where all the other things I want to accomplish in my life were not constrained by the fact I am a woman, and a perfect world where I did not fear for the future of the planet and what we are leaving future generations. My acquaintance commented that I had a very visceral reaction to the question of having a child and to the notion that somehow my life is determined by what is expected of me. I have learned to listen to my body and to trust what feels right and not be shaped by the voices all around me telling me how I should or should not be. I have been truly blessed in my life with so much love, opportunity and inspiration, and all I really want to do is to give a little of that back in whatever form that might entail. Is it a lonely road? Absolutely! Is it a clear path? Absolutely not! But I would not have it any other way. In a perfect world I would absolutely have a biological child of my own, but then I maintain that perfection is a farcical fantasy that distracts me from being present in my reality…