Somewhere there is a woman: 30, no children. People ask her, âStill no kids?â Her response varies from day to day, but it usually includes forced smiles and restraint.
âNope, not yet,â she says with a chuckle, muffling her frustration.
âWell, donât wait forever. That clock is ticking, ya know,â the sage says before departing, happy with herself for imparting such erudite wisdom. The sage leaves. The woman holds her smile. Alone, she criesâŚ
Cries because sheâs been pregnant 4 times and miscarried every one. Cries because she started trying for a baby on her wedding night, and that was 5 years ago. Cries because her husband has an ex-wife and she has given him children. Cries because she wants desperately to try in vitro but canât even afford the deposit. Cries because sheâs done in vitro (multiple rounds) and still has no children. Cries because her best friend wouldnât be a surrogate. âIt would be too weird,â she said. Cries because her medication prevents pregnancy. Cries because this issue causes friction in her marriage. Cries because the doctor said sheâs fine, but deep inside she knows itâs her. Cries because her husband blames himself, and that guilt makes him a hard person to live with. Cries because all her sisters have children. Cries because one of her sisters didnât even want children. Cries because her best friend is pregnant. Cries because she got invited to another baby shower. Cries because her mother keeps asking, âGirl, what are you waiting on?â Cries because her in-laws want to be grandparents. Cries because her neighbor has twins and treats them like shit. Cries because 16-year-olds get pregnant without trying. Cries because sheâs an amazing aunt. Cries because sheâs already picked out names. Cries because thereâs an empty room in her house. Cries because there is an empty space in her body. Cries because she has so much to offer. Cries because heâd be a great dad. Cries because sheâd be a great mother, but isnât.
Somewhere else is another woman: 34, five children. People say to her, âFive? Good lord, I hope youâre done!â And then they laugh⌠because those types of comments are funny. The woman laughs too, but not in earnest. She changes the subject, as she always does, and gives the disrespect a pass. Just another day. Alone, she criesâŚ
Cries because sheâs pregnant with another and feels like she has to hide the joy. Cries because she always wanted a big family and doesnât see why people seem so disturbed by it. Cries because she has no siblings and felt profoundly lonely as a child. Cries because her Granny had 12 and sheâd love to be just like her. Cries because she couldnât imagine life without her children, but people treat her like theyâre a punishment. Cries because she doesnât want to be pitied. Cries because people assume this isnât what she wanted. Cries because they assume sheâs just irresponsible. Cries because they believe she has no say. Cries because she feels misunderstood. Cries because sheâs tired of defending her private choices. Cries because she and her husband are perfectly capable of supporting their family but that doesnât seem to matter. Cries because sheâs tired of the âfunnyâ comments. Cries because she minds her own business. Cries because she wishes others would mind theirs. Cries because sometimes she doubts herself and wonders if she should have stopped two kids ago. Cries because others are quick to offer criticism and slow to offer help. Cries because sheâs sick of the scrutiny. Cries because sheâs not a side show. Cries because people are rude. Cries because so many people seem to have opinions on her private life. Cries because all she wants to do is live in peace.
Another woman: 40, one child. People say to her, âOnly one? You never wanted any more?â
âIâm happy with my one,â she says calmly, a rehearsed response sheâs given more times than she can count. Quite believable. No one would ever suspect that alone, she criesâŚ
Cries because her one pregnancy was a miracle. Cries because her son still asks for a brother or sister. Cries because she always wanted at least three. Cries because her second pregnancy had to be terminated to save her life. Cries because her doctor says it would be âhigh-risk.â Cries because sheâs struggling to care for the one she has. Cries because sometimes one feels like two. Cries because her husband wonât even entertain the thought of another. Cries because her husband died and she hasnât found love again. Cries because her family thinks one is enough. Cries because sheâs deep into her career and canât step away. Cries because she feels selfish. Cries because she still hasnât lost the weight from her from her first pregnancy. Cries because her postpartum depression was so intense. Cries because she canât imagine going through that again. Cries because she has body issues and pregnancy only exacerbates it. Cries because she still battles bulimia. Cries because she had to have a hysterectomy. Cries because she wants another baby, but canât have it.
These women are everywhere. They are our neighbors, our friends, our sisters, our co-workers, our cousins. They have no use for our advice or opinions. Their wombs are their own. Letâs respect that.
~Nadirah Angail