I got divorced in August of 2013. One of the many issues that lead to the downfall of my marriage was that my ex badly wanted to be a father – of his own biological child – and after 4 failed fertility attempts, I was done trying. He wasn’t.
Soon after the divorce was finalized, he found himself an insta-family: a woman who had 2 children already (and thus was obviously fertile). As much as it smarted that after 21 years he ‘replaced’ me less than a month after our divorce was finalized, I was more hurt by the the fact that he got what he always wanted – a family. Whereas I got nothing, but my infertility rubbed in my face again.
No worries, I said to myself. I’m okay with my infertility. I didn’t want children anyway. I was 40 after all. My biological clock had ceased ticking a long time ago.
But somehow, somewhere underneath the ‘I don’t want kids’ exterior, I still felt flawed. Jilted. Like my goddess-given right to have children had been prematurely and unfairly taken from me.
So I made it crystal clear to every man who expressed interest in me that I couldn’t have kids. I thought it only fair to both of us to not even pursue a relationship without him knowing I was ‘flawed.’
Because you know, I was fine with my infertility. I wasn’t.
As I’ve said before, I believe the universe gives us just what we need when we need it. When we don't listen to that message/lesson, the universe keeps sending us increasingly louder reminders until we get it. Gentle nudges turn into shoves. Shoves become cosmic 2x4s.
I thought I had dealt with my infertility. I thought I had accepted it, gotten over it, moved on. Apparently I hadn't.
I met a man two months ago. I told him I couldn’t have kids. He said he was fine with that; said he didn’t know if he wanted them anyway. We chatted almost daily; talked about meeting again (we don’t live in the same state – we met at a wedding of a mutual friend of all places). I was apprehensive, wanting us both to be sure before we tried to make a long distance relationship work. He finally broke down my reserves and I agreed to meet him. We only had to work out the when and where.
Two days later, he changed his mind. He wasn’t sure if he wanted kids or not and I couldn’t have them… He needed some time to think it through.
I was devastated. It's apparently still a very sore subject for me and it felt like I was being rejected by yet another man for something I could not control. I spent more time in my office that day crying in between my classes and meetings than I care to admit.
You see, I thought I had dealt with my infertility, but I hadn't. So the universe sent me this man – yet another cosmic 2×4 for me.
The shock I felt, the betrayal hurt like hell. Yet, I am grateful to him for inadvertently pointing out another lesson I need to learn. A lesson I didn’t know I needed to learn, but can now deal with it so it doesn't come back to bite me in the ass again. And now I know that I need to be even more clear with any man I might want to date about the kid issue. To make sure that he gets it and is okay with it before either of us invest any of our time or ourselves in the potential relationship. It just hurts too much to keep going through this. And I now know that's something I need to deal with and work on. I owe that to myself.
And so I told him I was finished. I wasn’t going to wait for him to ‘think about it.’ My heart can't take another beating for something I have no control over. I have worked so hard to not see this as a flaw in myself. It's not like I asked for this or brought it upon myself somehow. Endometriosis is hereditary (although my ex seemed to blame me for it anyway). I cannot pursue anything with a man knowing he sees me as flawed. I have too much self-respect for that.
I wished him well and said I hoped he could find someone who can meet his needs. I think we both deserve that. Everyone deserves to be happy.
If there is a plus side to this it’s that it did in fact make me re-think the kid issue. It made me ask myself, “Do I want children?” And I came to terms with the fact that regardless of my endometriosis, at age 40, I actually don’t want kids. There – I said it. I know that statement will make me a pariah to some, but it’s my truth. I feel that I have many gifts to share, but they will be with friends, family, students – children of my heart, not of my womb. And I am okay with that. I can move forward knowing that I am not flawed for not being able to have – or not wanting – children in my life at this point.
I also realized something. I am a good catch – for the right guy. I just need someone who wants the same things in life that I do. I need someone I can pursue my dreams with (and he with me) without feeling like I am letting either of us down. I've done that before. No more. It's not fair to me and it's not fair to my future Mate.
So I’m putting it out there for the Universe to hear and deal with. I want a romantic partner who is also my Soul Mate – not because I need one, but because I want one. And I am more than willing to wait for the right man at the right time and the right place in my life. Someone who won’t judge me or see me as flawed. Because I’m not. I’m perfect just as I am – infertility, deciding I really don’t want kids, and all. Even if it takes months, even if it takes years. I will wait.
Finally, I surrender.