Feelings About Having Kids

I am a woman who just had her 35th birthday.

When I was young, I always imagined I would have a family. I used to be very homely and nurturing. I’ve always been able to relate to kids and get along with them, and they seem to like me.

Somewhere along the way, life became extremely difficult and unsafe. I decided that having a family of my own was completely off the table for me and just focused on trying to safely navigate the next hurdle life threw my way.

When I met my partner 7 years ago, neither of us believed in marriage nor wanted to have children. Both being children of divorce, me having an extremely complicated family life, and us both having seen so many people become so unhappy, it was not something we were interested in.

Fast forward only a couple of years, and things began to change for us. We realised that this was the healthiest relationship we had ever known, and the idea of spending our days building a life together sounded more exciting than scary. The idea of having a family of our own started to creep in.

All our lives, we are taught to fear getting pregnant. Like it’s the worst thing that can happen to a person, like it will ruin your life. That indoctrinated fear, passed down through many hurt generations, permeated our very existence. It’s hard to move past such fears.

After years of working hard, building our life and buying our first home, we took a trip to New Zealand to visit my partner's family and friends (yes, he is from NZ).

At the time, we were looking to sell our 30-acre property to buy land and have our own little cattle property. But going back to his hometown and hearing the stories of growing up in a little country town gave us new priorities, which ultimately led us to buying our beautiful home here in Boyup Brook.

We decided to compromise on land so we could have a home that we wouldn’t grow out of and be close to town for when we start a family.

So we’ve always had this in the back of our minds with each decision we’ve made, but still, fear held us back.

I have never felt safe enough to entertain the idea of having a family. My life prior to meeting my partner was full of uncertainty, abusive relationships, homelessness, toxic internal family systems, no financial security and no stability.

I think I told myself it was something that I could never have. I think I told myself that for so long that even when my life was safe, healthy, stable and secure, I still believed it wasn’t something I could allow myself.

I know I have removed myself a bit from the idea so I didn’t get so caught up on that being something I so desperately wanted, in case there was some reason I couldn't have kids. You hear so many stories of infertility, and I think I’ve always had some fear there too.

Not long after we moved to our new home, my mother's partner, my stepfather of 17 years, attempted to rape me.

I was lucky to get away. I reported it, he was arrested and charged which resulted in a guilty plea.

There’s a lot more to that. That’s just the facts for the purpose of this article.

Obviously, that fucked my shit up.

It destroyed me, my family as I knew it, and just like that, all the instability and uncertainty and fear returned.

It affected every area of my personal and working life and my relationship with my partner. It has been such a long journey of healing, which led to years of me being too physically and mentally unwell to even consider a family of our own.

It is complex. My mind goes to and fro from not wanting to miss out on the opportunity, since my body has a clock for these things, but also not wanting to start a family until I felt I was strong enough.

People say there’s never a right time, but I do think there is a need to at least consider a few things and make sure that you are setting yourself up to navigate a very difficult new chapter of life, right?

I don’t know, because we as a society don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about anything, really.

People don’t ask anymore, which is nice because that did used to upset me.

How do you answer a question like, "Are you going to have kids?"

Um, I have so much family trauma that I don’t want to pass down to another generation, I don’t know if I even can have kids, and the world is fucked, and welcome to spiral town…

So I simply would say, “We have animals, and they take up all our time and money.”

We laugh, and the conversation moves somewhere else.

What else can I say? Cry about how deeply hurt and scared I am? Scared to have them, scared not to?

Anyway, the day before my birthday, my fertility specialist gave me some results. Basically, everything is working fine, but my AMH is low, and if I don’t conceive naturally in the next six months, then I would need to look into options.

It doesn't mean I can’t. It just means I need to make a decision because I’m running out of time.

I always just figured that if it was meant to happen, it would, and perhaps that would be the decider, you know, like what’s meant to be will be?

But now that I’m faced with this reality, I have realised how much I do want a family and always have done. I’ve just been too busy surviving life to even think about bringing life into this chaotic world.

I have realised how much I’ve been hustling through my trauma and working my way through life, just surviving.

Now I am finally safe enough to heal and get to know myself outside of just surviving. I am reminded of how nurturing I am and beginning to feel comfortable in my femininity again.

I don’t know if I will ever have kids of my own, but I do know that I want to try. I also know that I will be okay regardless, and perhaps there are other ways to give and nurture.

The point of this post is simply to be honest so that other women can feel seen in their indecision, fear and pain.

I think sometimes we become so focused on surviving what life has thrown at us that we forget to ask ourselves what we actually want from it. We spend so much time protecting ourselves from the possibility of being hurt or disappointed that we don't realise we might also be protecting ourselves from the possibility of something beautiful.

I don't know what the next chapter of my life will look like, and for once, I'm trying to be okay with not knowing.

What I do know is that I don't want fear to keep making my decisions for me.

And if you're reading this and any part of my story resonates with you, I hope you know that you're not alone. Whether you're unsure about having children, struggling to conceive, grieving the life you thought you'd have or simply trying to find your way through everything life has thrown at you, I hope you give yourself some grace.

You don't have to have all the answers. You're allowed to change your mind, to want something you once thought you didn't, and to be scared of something you desperately want.

And whatever happens, I hope you remember that your worth and the meaning of your life are not determined by whether or not you become a mother.