The Many Facets of Childlessness
By Kathryn H. Kidd

If my mailbox is any indication, there are a whole lot of women out there who are dreading Mother’s Day because they aren’t mothers and can’t do a single thing about it.  There are others who only became mothers after great trials of their faith.

Many of these women had words of comfort for Colorado Reader, who wrote in last week to express her frustration with the problem.  Without further ado, here is what some of those readers had to say:

This topic is near and dear to my heart, not only because I dealt with infertility for seven years before I got my daughter and son (and still do struggle with it as we try to have another), but also because I’ve had a number of friends and family members struggle with infertility as well.

It’s very difficult to deal with. If you tell people of your struggles, then you get the unsolicited, often thoughtless, advice on “what to do” to “fix” the problem. If you keep it private, then you run the risk of others judging you and assuming that you are choosing not to have children.

When someone becomes pregnant, yet again, your inability to get pregnant just seems that much more of a loss. It’s normal and natural to feel this way. One has to be very careful not to become consumed by this loss, because it is very easy to do so.

Everyone is different and I’m sure other have better or different strategies to cope with this. Here are some things that I did that helped me.

1. I shared my struggles with others. I realize some people will not be comfortable with this, and that’s fine. For me, though, it was nice to be able to let others know what I was going through. I tried not to dwell on it and I did receive unsolicited advice that at times hurt my feelings, but overall I was glad I shared.
   
   
   Because of sharing with others, when I went through in vitro, my whole ward fasted for me. I still tear up when I think about it. And yes, I did get pregnant and gave birth to my daughter 9 months later.

2. I went out of my way to congratulate those who were pregnant. Yes, it was hard. Sometimes I had to give myself a few days to “compose myself.”  But I kept repeating to myself, “Her ability to get pregnant will not affect my ability to get pregnant in any way.” It’s not a zero sum game.
   
   
   I tried very hard to be happy for those who were pregnant and made sure I was included in baby showers and even volunteered to help with them. This helped put people at ease around me when discussing babies. And it helped me not focus on myself so much.

3. I had to finally admit to myself that there was a medical reason that I wasn’t getting pregnant and start seeking answer both from professionals and through my own research. There are great books out there like Taking Control of your Fertility that helped me understand better how my body works and things I could do to enhance the probability that I could get pregnant.

4. I came to the realization that I might never have children and that was ok. There are many things before you have children that are much more difficult while raising them.  I was a YW President both before and after having children. The relationships I had with the YW I served before having children was much closer than the ones I served after having children. (It was different wards.) I think the main difference was before having kids I had much more time to devote to the YW than I did after having kids. It was hard not being able to go to all of the activities because of family commitments.
   
   
   You are in a much better position to serve those in your ward as a single person or married without children than those who have children. And there are those in your ward who NEED that service.

5. I learned that as I served others, I forgot my problems and it wasn’t as hard to deal with things.

6. Best of all, I can help those who are struggling with infertility because I’ve been there. People who have never struggled to get pregnant or have kids most often just don’t get it.  There is a real loss one suffers when you can’t have kids. Here you are a righteous woman with righteous desires, so why the heck is God not blessing me? At least that’s what I would think. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands that and has been through it.

God bless each and every one of you who are facing this challenge.

A reader in Texas

What a great letter, Texas!  It was terrific to open my mailbox and see such a terrific list of concrete suggestions that helped you deal with infertility — and that may help many others.

I especially liked what you said about working to make sure you don’t become consumed by the loss.  After a lot of thinking about my own situation, I finally realized that if the Lord wanted me to have children, I would have had them.  He had other plans for me, and I’ve learned not to second-guess Him.  Nailing the window up after God has closed the door isn’t helpful for anyone concerned — even though it may seem to be the easiest thing to do.

Read on for another book recommendation for infertile couples:

A new book just published, Fertile in our Faith: Infertility, Pregnancy Loss, and Adoption, and written by Krista Oakes, the founder of www.2ofus4now.com is an excellent source of comfort and instruction for LDS families. Krista and her husband, Jared, are the happy parents of two adopted children after having struggled with infertility and pregnancy loss for many years. Although Krista is currently in stage four of glioblastoma multiforme (you can follow her journey on her blog, www.onkristasmind.blogspot.com she has written and had this book published in just the past 14 months. I recommend it to all.

Joyce Woolf
Granite Bay, California

Thanks for the recommendation, Joyce.  It is so commendable that Krista Oakes was able to write this book despite her medical condition.  I hope a lot of readers send up a prayer in her direction today.  This is a reminder that as hard as it may seem to comprehend, there are lots worse things in life than infertility.  Thanks for that valuable perspective.

Here’s a short but sweet reminder that being prodded by thoughtless questions feels no better than being poked and prodded at the dentist’s office:

I am with you.  It is a struggle.  My husband and I have been married for almost ten years.  And we are still childless.  In the beginning of marriage everyone wanted to know when we were going to have kids.  We have live in the same ward for our whole marriage and the question now only comes when new couples move in and want to know if we have kids.  I am glad the question doesn't come up much anymore. 

Mother's Day is always a struggle for me.  I just want to stay home and hide and cry.  It hurts too much and I know it's around the corner.  And I'm already thinking how do I get out of it this year.  Most of the year I do all right, and I have come to the conclusion that this might be my trial in life.  And I'm ok with that most of the time. 

I know it's not easy. But if it gives you comfort there are others like us.  I wish it were something talked about more.  We have even had a ward leader call us in wanting to know if we were putting off having children.  Thanks for letting me vent just a little.

Childless in Washington

Your letter brought a smile to my face, Washington — not because I don’t feel for your situation, but because 31 years of childlessness have shown me that these little trials just don’t go away.

As soon as I finish writing this column, my husband and I are going out to look for flowers because my husband (who is just as childless as I am) has been assigned the task of buying the flowers for our ward for Mother’s Day.  Oh, the irony!

I really don’t think people intend to be insensitive.  They just don’t think.  (I should amend that to “We just don’t think,” because I am purely amazed at what sometimes comes out of my mouth.  Occasionally I am tempted to look behind me and shout, “Who said that?”)

Here’s a letter from a mother who finally achieved her dream of bearing children, only to learn that miracles often come with their own set of challenges:

Over 40 years ago I faced the problem of having a miscarriage early in a pregnancy and then not being able to conceive again. My husband and I fasted and prayed to have a child for about 2-1/2 years. During this same time he had enlisted in the Army and we were living at a base in Massachusetts.

We were given all kinds of fertility tests that did not work. Finally, the doctor we were seeing told us that he had one last test to perform, and if that didn’t work, then he couldn’t help us. I was given a priesthood blessing before that last test (which was to shoot some dye into my female organs). I was promised I would become a mother in Zion, just as my Patriarchal Blessing said I would.

We got that miracle. The doctor told us that the dye probably unblocked my fallopian tubes. Two months later I was expecting my first child.

I think we needed to go through that procedure in which we desperately wanted this baby, and I had promised the Lord that if he sent me a child I would do everything I knew how to raise him to be a righteous person — because this child became a severe test of any parent, and hasn’t attended church since he was about 15 years old. His younger siblings were much easier to raise.

This son has gone through the drug and alcoholic season of his life, has been through a divorce, and now has been clean and sober for 18 years. He serves as an AA counselor to help others, but because of his smoking and working on Sundays he still hasn’t come all the way back.

My advice to others facing childlessness, is to make the best of your situation. If you’ve tried the prayers and blessings route, and all that medical science can do, perhaps there is another plan for your life. Maybe adoption is another answer. Read the biography of Sister Ardyth Greene Kapp, called Stand as a Witness.

A Sister from Washington State

Thanks for writing, Washington State.  I like your observation that if you are childless, there may be another plan for your life.  That is something that many women need to internalize.  Otherwise they may experience a lifetime of grief.

Here’s another reminder that even after the dreams have been achieved, life may not exactly be a bed of roses:

Before we joined this church, we were childless by choice — or rather my husband was, having had a vasectomy before we met. When we married, we simply knew there would not be children. That was OK, because I felt I had nothing to offer a child in this horrible world we live in.

Fast forward six years. We learned the Plan of Salvation. Families are ordained of God. For several years I felt like a total failure; I understand how it feels to be childless in a culture where motherhood is so honored.

We looked in to reversal of the vasectomy and insemination using donor sperm. We prayerfully considered our choices, and decided to pursue adoption. One roadblock after another arose before we were able to obtain guardianship of a three-year-old girl. Our situation continued to be precarious, and I longed to hold a baby.

We became parents to two more children, including an infant, and although we came close to losing each one, the adoptions were finalized five years after we got the first girl.

I still carry a lot of anger toward those teen girls who steal a baby from heaven and try to raise them. My two oldest children are brain damaged by fetal alcohol, and one is recovering from attachment disorder. Far from being warm and fuzzy, we struggle every day to try to become a worthy family while fighting many mental health issues.

If I knew then what I know now, I'm not sure I would have adopted my children; I guess that's why Heavenly Father doesn't allow us to see the end from the beginning, as I do have a testimony that these three children were sent into the world to be our children.

I don't know why things happen the way they do, but "I know that He loveth His children" (that's me), and someday all will be understood.

A reader in Ohio

Thanks for writing, Ohio.  Your letter was a dramatic testimony of the fact that having a baby is just the beginning — and by no means the end — of the road.

Some people may think you harsh because of your statement, "I still carry a lot of anger toward those teen girls who steal a baby from heaven and try to raise them." I know what you’re talking about, though. I have a niece who had a baby out of wedlock and is thinking of him exactly the way she used to think of her pet goats. The only reason she had the goats was because she looked so pretty trotting them around the ring at the fairgrounds, and now I'm getting similar pictures of her with the baby. When I think of all the families who could give that baby a wonderful home, I want to cry. I realize that life isn't supposed to be fair, but sometimes unfairness is — well, so unfair!

Here’s another story where adoption was the answer:

Hi, I also was not able to bear children and understand the Colorado Reader's pain. The pain is still there even though I have adopted three children. I have experienced all the pain of being barren, not being a
biological mom, and of not being like so many LDS mothers. I have also felt the pain of my children as they have gone through the phase of knowing they are adopted. These are all learning experiences and have given me growth.

My youngest daughter was adopted from China. She is so loving and full of joy. The other two were adopted from the LDS Social Services. I can't imagine not having any of my children that I have adopted even though when they don't make right choices it gives me sorrow. Please don't forget that sometimes we have to go out and get our own blessings. These children are still blessings from God. We can also have friendships that are blessings. We can be friends to children in primary and they can be a source of joy to us. Just being around little children can bring joy to us. May each of you grow where you are planted in this glorious gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

A Reader from "Texas"

What a great observation, Texas — “Please don't forget that sometimes we have to go out and get our own blessings.”  I hope your letter gives courage to childless couples who may be sitting on the fence.

And here’s another testimony of adoption:

After my husband and I were married in our early 20's, we decided that we wanted to wait a few years to start our family. However, about one year later we both felt like we were ready to begin that stage of our lives, so we decided it was time to throw the contraceptives away. Little did we know at the time that we were never in need of contraceptives in the first place! 

After about a year of trying to get pregnant with no success, we took the dreaded visit to the OB-GYN. Long story short — we were informed that we would never have children of our own. I was crushed!  I felt like a total failure! It seemed that any teenager walking down the street could get pregnant, but I could not!

I asked myself what could I have possibly done to deserve this. It was very difficult for my husband to see me suffering so much. All of our other married friends were having babies, our married brothers and sisters were having babies, yet here we sat with our arms empty. It was totally heart-wrenching. Family get-togethers were getting more and more unbearable for me as the years passed and more nieces and nephews were coming along. People treated us differently.

Even my best friends were hesitant to tell me about their pregnancies for fear that it would make me sad.

We had looked at every option — donor sperm, invitro fertilization, foster care, and so on.  Finally we decided to talk to our bishop about adoption. He got us hooked up with the LDS Social Services office in our area, and the ball started rolling.  It couldn't roll fast enough for me, but my husband was not as enthusiastic. He told me he was not sure he could love someone else’s child, but I had faith in him. And sure enough, after a lot of paperwork, and a lot of waiting, one Monday morning we finally got the call!

We picked up our son the next day. He was only four days old. My husband’s fears were laid to rest from the very moment he first held our son. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "This is my boy!" 

That was 15 years ago.  We adopted another son four years after the first one, and if we were allowed to adopt more than two, we surely would have! What a wonderful blessing! Our lives feel so complete. It’s not easy raising kids in the world today, but with the gospel as our guide, we can do anything! 

I truly believe that our children were meant to come to us; they just had to find a different way to get here. I can’t imagine not having our boys today. They both know that they are adopted, but that doesn’t matter. They know that we chose them, that we love them, and that their birth mothers loved them enough to give them the family that they needed and deserved.

There's a whole lot more to this story, but let's just say that Heavenly Father knows what He's doing! I hope that telling my story has helped you.

Nancy Townsend
Washington State 

Here’s another success story with a different result.  This one comes with a poem that may bring a tear to your eye or a smile to your face.

I guess I should start at the beginning. My name is Dayna Patterson and I live in San Marcos, Texas with my husband. We tried for over two years to have kids with no success, which is a comparatively short time period, but for me it felt like an eternity. After seeking help from a fertility clinic in Austin, my husband and I are now almost through our first trimester.  However, after trying for so long, the pain and frustration of being infertile is still fresh in my mind.

I'm a graduate student in English literature and I like to dabble in poetry. Here is a little something I worked on while I was coping:

I don't know if you'll choose to publish this or not, but it was therapeutic for me to write it. Also, establishing a community of friends who were dealing with the same issue helped me feel like I was not alone.

Dayna Patterson
San Marcos, Texas

It was great hearing from you, Dayna.  I loved your poem and wish you all the success in the world in your pregnancy. 

Our last letter today comes from a woman who was not childless by choice, but who nevertheless has found joy in her childless state.  Here are her words:

We have been married 21 years this June.  We enjoy each other and what we have and focus on our plans for the future.

Sure I cry over babies being born, children being mistreated, abused, neglected, and so on.  My arms literally ache at times to hold a baby of my own but I now tell people when asked how many children I have "we are blessed to not have children" — and I mean it.  We enjoy the freedom to eat out a lot, go to
social functions often or get away from it all when we feel like it.  We both love to travel and get away as often as money permits.

I think I knew in my teens I would not have children, even though it was the one thing I truly wanted to be, a mother.  I also accepted the idea that it is no one's fault when a couple is infertile.

My Patriarchal Blessing tells me I will be a mother in Israel and that I am to teach my children in their tender years the Gospel of Jesus Christ and they will render a great service unto Heavenly Father.  Does this mean I have missed the boat?  No way. 

Our branch president has seven children, five of whom are under nine years old.  I sit with his wife and children during sacrament meeting and help with the children. Three of the boys like to come to my house after Church and we play together and then I take them home, this gives me a chance to be a Mum for a short time and have the luxury of giving them back when I have had enough.

I am also the Primary President and enjoy being with the children in our branch.

I married at 31 and it wasn't until I was 33 before we discovered we had problems.  We looked into the possibility of adoption but were told the maximum age was 35 and we couldn't be more than 25 years older than any child we adopted and the waiting list was years.  My husband is not a member of the Church, so LDS Social Services was out of the question.

We considered IVF and almost began a course but I was offered a job in another town that offered the lifestyle we wanted but was too far away from a fertility clinic.  We chose to change our location.

I have never felt that being a mother was the be all and end all of what defines me.  I have always had a good sense of self worth and grew up in a loving and safe non-member family with four other siblings.  I am the only member of the Church in my entire family this side of the veil.

Many well meaning Church members have made comments that have been slightly patronising but no one has ever made me feel like I am a second rate person, I choose to live a fulfilling life.  The only drawback I see for the future is who to leave all my debts to!

Yes, it can be lonely sitting in Church when it’s just you, or just you and your spouse, but I look to the future, when hopefully I will be worthy to have children during the millennium.  My friends remind me that those who do have children during that time will have hundreds of them.

I think I'll enjoy the rest now before that happens!

Regina Johnson
Albany, Western Australia

I loved your letter, Regina. Thanks especially for the reminder that there is more than one way to be a mother in Israel.  Your service to your branch president’s family is one perfect way to do it — and serving as Primary president is another.  Good for you!

That’s it for this week.  We’ll have more letters on the subject next week.  Meanwhile, if you have comments on this topic or suggestions for another, send your email to circleofsisters@meridianmagazine.com.  Put something in the subject line that will let me know your letter isn't spam.  And when you write, be sure to include your full name, city and state or province or country. (If you'd rather be semi-anonymous, sign your name as “A Reader from Michigan” or “Sandy from Timbuktu.” The important thing is that we hear from you.)

Until next week — Kathy

“If your parents never had children, chances are you won't, either.”

Dick Cavett

American comedian, 1936-