Living the (Unintentionally) Child-free Life - [a guestpost from Aimee]

There have been a lot of posts going around in the Catholic internetosphere: fecundophobia, child-free living, fertility crises as women age and put careers ahead of family. I'm sure that some people, when they see Kyle and I, assume that because we've been married for more than a year and are still childless, we obviously must be contracepting. While it's true that we live a "child-free life", it's unintentional in the worst way possible.

Kyle's written about infertility from his perspective. And if you know me, you've probably heard me talk about it as well. We've been trying to conceive for almost a year and a half now. We've had the onslaught of tests performed, with the results staring glaringly back at us: in our current medical state, we have <1% chance every year of conceiving. It's still possible, but it would essentially be a miracle if we ever were able to conceive and have biological children of our own.

So right now we're trying to work on our health to see if we can improve our chances at all -- maybe giving it another year of intense medical treatment before we reevaluate our odds and decide whether to continue. Fertility treatments are not cheap. And because we're faithful to the Catholic Church's teachings on fertility and conception, we won't go down the road of IVF -- which would probably (because of our particular medical diagnoses) give us higher chances of conception and pregnancy than natural means. So we're spending money on natural (and Church-approved) methods of treatment with a NaPro doctor, we're in the thousands by now and we have yet to reach the point of diagnostic surgery. 

This is not what we expected when we said "I do." There were no indications prior to our wedding day that either of us had infertility issues. We had hoped and planned to have a large family -- we were honestly hoping for at least 5 children... I was dreaming of 10 little ones, to raise up "as little saints". We expected the hardships of raising children on a meager salary, the hardships of learning how to live with someone, the hardships of learning to be married and be parents at the same time. We didn't expect the cross of infertility.

But here we are, a year and a half in -- no more pregnant than the couch I am sitting on. With odds stacked against us. This was not the life we had planned. A child-free life was not what we wanted.

And I hear the sorts of attempts at consolations and trite phrases thrown about with no regard to the logical psychological reactions. "In God's good time/God has a special child planned for you in His own time" -- I hear that a lot. I think it's meant to comfort  me in that people are saying that someday we will have children, according to His will and stuff. But what if it's not His will that we have children? "If you want God to laugh, tell Him your plans" -- Oh dear, I hear this one so so so often. Not necessarily directed at me, but I still hear it all the time. If God is laughing at the pain and suffering I endure and have endured because we are not able to fulfill what we saw as an integral part of our vocation (and truly, what is a righteous and holy good), then I do not want to be friends with this God. I have desired a family for as long as I can remember -- and this only seems some sort of cruel irony if He is laughing at our situation and our plans. "Just relax, stop worrying so much." If I had a dollar for every time I heard this... Infertility is a real medical problem. I have Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome among other things. Kyle has his own set of male-factor IF issues as well. To be honest, sex has and does become tedious when you have to time things to perfectly and if you want to try again this month, you have this schedule of days to try on. I have clinical depression - I worry A LOT. But relaxing isn't going to solve my PCOS or Kyle's IF issues. "Just enjoy this time (while you get to sleep in/have lots of sex/don't have to worry about children)." I would gladly, in a heartbeat, trade in my sleeping in, scheduled sex, and lack of worrying about children (but instead worrying if my body is working right) for a passel of children. Infertility is not a mere inconvenience, it is a life-changing, plan-wrecking, soul-crushing cross. I have one final thing that pregnant women say sometimes that just needs to stop: "God has found us fit to bless us with a child"/"Children are an heritage of the Lord, offspring a reward from Him" (Psalm 127). God is not a vending machine whom you put prayers and pious life into and get children (or other blessings) back. God is not one to be bargained with, and this is not about what is "fair." If we wanted to, we could subvert God's Church and use IVF and get our own child. If we had a child, people would probably stop giving us funny stares like we're such an evil couple because we're "obviously contracepting"... but IVF is not the answer. Our piety, in the form of being obedient to the teachings of the Church, is not being rewarded with a child. Because that's not how it works. Children are gifts to be cherished and loved -- but they are not rewards for good behavior. 

Anyway, that's not the reason I started writing this post. I started writing this post because I have, after a long period of mourning, begun to find joy and purpose in this life. That doesn't mean I'm not still mourning, but it means that I have, in a way, turned the page with hope. I had so much hopelessness that our marriage would never be fruitful if we could not have children. So much of the Catholic blogosphere is focused on mommy blogs who devote their lives to their children... some to the point of calling out the childless in our modern culture for their enmity with God. Now, I'm sure they would not give me mean words if they knew our situation, but the general angst and meanness towards childless people is not the best way to evangelize, let me tell you. I do understand that the raising of little saints is the primary focus of your life and it should be -- but often these Catholics will denigrate the nature and purpose of work in the world as if it were to only exist for the sake of the children, the home. Perhaps, ultimately, that is so. But if I can never have children, I must know that our marriage is not pointless and fruitless if Kyle and I were to devote ourselves to working in the world and showing the love of God to others through doing whatever we are called to do. 

I have a lot of angst about this -- I might never get to join you, Catholic mommy-bloggers, in your playdates and your book events. I might never get to participate in your mother's groups and mom's Bible studies. And somehow, I'm sure not intentionally, I was made to feel that by not being a mother, I was losing my worth. That  my worth as wife, as a woman, as a person, was somehow cut drastically by my body's stupid inability to conceive.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful spiritual director who knows many things -- among them, especially, compassion and love for his spiritual wards. We've talked of spiritual motherhood, the value and fruitfulness of a faithful marriage, no matter how many children Kyle and I are able to have. And how the anger at God can be a raging prayer to lift up even in the darkness.

We talked about hope, and resignation all at the same time. We live with the expectation that we will never conceive... We live as though we will never have children. Yet we hope and pray for a miracle -- that someday, we will. Somehow, after so many months of feeling so hopeless and hopeful and despairing and wistful, I have come to a stability that is just a sort of meager peace and acceptance. I was living so long with the expectation that we would get pregnant -- it's why I didn't have a full-time job after we married. So I'm turning the page on that. I'm going to live with the practical expectation that we won't have children. And that starts now.

What does that mean? It means an unintentionally child-free life. Not the life we were hoping for, but the one that nature and God have allowed us. It means that I might start looking for full-time work in the pro-life movement --- or even better, I might try to get Life Matters Journal to the point where I can actually make some money doing what I love, but on a regular full-time schedule. It means that instead of looking for big houses in the country, we might be looking for smaller places in cities (so we can be close to people/interesting events/etc). It means that maybe we'll travel. And yes, it means that maybe at some point in the future (when my mental health is stable), we may start the adoption process if we can afford it. But honestly, I'm not holding out for it. I have a peace right now that I haven't had in more than a year, and I just want to take things a step at a time.

If you're the praying kind, please pray for us. You can pray for a miracle if you like -- but more than that, please pray for strength, endurance, perseverance, and faithfulness. We cannot walk this road alone.