Didn’t Know I Wanted Kids Until I Couldn’t Have Them

We all know the saying, “You don’t know what you have til it’s gone.”

So, what the hell happened? The long of the short of it is, when I was twenty-four, I started having hemorrhagic ovarian cysts which eventually led to a radical hysterectomy. I was particularly career oriented and not too keen on having children in the first place. I should also add that I was being hospitalized on a regular basis and had already undergone numerous major surgeries. My thoughts were preoccupied with trying to live and children seemed to be a remote possibility and not worth the consideration. In truth, I barely thought about it.

But then it happened. It was only a few weeks after the operation and Halloween was approaching. I lived in a residential neighborhood with my former husband and looked forward to seeing rambunctious trick-or-treaters. As I was decorating the front of the house with the goal of being the scariest on the block, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the deepest sadness. For the first time, I was truly realizing what I had lost. I would never dress up my own little Cinderella or Peter Pan, not from my own flesh and blood. I would never experience the joys of having a tiny bundle of personal creation to share with a beloved partner. This realization led me to an incredibly dark mental place, one of those forbidden spaces. Much like the days following the tornado in Tuscaloosa, I again found myself living through existential and material hell.

In addition to losing my ability to have children (and realizing I wanted them), I had resigned from my job at Morgan Stanley and felt utterly useless. I knew the modern narrative that children are a mere luxury, and career could suffice if not exceed motherhood. I embraced that narrative wholeheartedly, but I could not feel but a sense of half-ness. The feeling of being permanently incomplete, inadequate, and inferior to virtually every other woman. I was unable to work or have children or even competitively ride my horse. I was nothing.

It was out of this nothingness that I was determined to find something, anything to hold onto. So, what did I actually find? Chaos. Unimaginable chaos. In this moment, I was left with two options: to throw in the towel and call it quits or to simply embrace the madness. I ain’t ever been a quitter; therefore, the latter choice was my only choice.

There is a saying that when you are sailing against the wind, you must let go of the sail to overcome the forces against you. I found myself doing just that. I let go of what I thought I wanted, what I thought I had lost, and simply allowed the wind to carry me. When I did that, something happened that is difficult to put into words. It was as if all the elements began to fall into their proper placed rather than being jammed into whichever option first appeared. Strangers picked me up and made certain I arrived at destinations I did not even realize I was seeking. Life simply began to flow.

I discovered an insight into life that had otherwise been kept hidden from me. My existence did not have to be met with constant friction and pain. Hardship and joy were merely rivers that took me to my next purpose.

Only in my late twenties did I come to have a full appreciation for struggle and difficulty. Looking back, I am filled with gratitude for the proverbial hand I was delt. I believe it has equipped me with the strength to endure and the insight to see ahead. I would be lying if I said I always kept this enlightened perspective. It has been a daily practice and discipline which are still accompanied by days of anxiety or anticipation.

However, life simply goes on.