August is women’s month in South Africa. And coincidentally it also baby season! There were 3 baby announcements in my immediate vicinity in the last month or so. Some planned, some less planned, but all welcome.
I knew there would be micro seasons where the topic of children would be pervasive and unavoidable. So consciously preparing for the announcements, pregnancy shoots, gender reveals, and baby’s first has been high on the priority list, and so far, it has been helpful. I find it much easier now to be truly grateful and happy for the parents-to-be while being content with our situation.
But sometimes there is still a niggly little voice that sows seeds of pain and insecurity. A voice that likes to make me feel like I’m incomplete even if this is the journey God chose for us.
Our particular situation isn’t common and finding support from people who can truly empathise is difficult. I know of only three women in my life who chose not to have children, while there are about a dozen who wanted to, but simply couldn’t.
In a semi-recent session with my psychologist, I brought up how, after having had my reproductive system dismantled (by emergency, not choice), I sometimes feel like I’ve been stripped of my womanhood to an extent. I can only imagine that breast cancer survivors or alopecia warriors feel similar about their losses. For me, there is a feeling of inadequacy brought on by the strangest things, like missing the routine of having a period.
The psychologist’s response echoed in my heart still: “What does it mean to me to be a woman?”. Her question had me stumped. How do I view being a woman? How would I describe what being a woman is? Is it primarily linked to reproduction or is there more to it?
The answer was simpler than I thought. Women nurture and show compassion even when, while also being assertive and much stronger than we think. It never ceased to amaze me how much some women can physically and emotionally endure, while also keeping a sweet spirit and their heads held high.
Another question of hers that hit me square in the chest is if I would ever tell someone else the things I tell myself. So on the topic of womanhood, would I ever tell another person she is not a woman because she can’t or doesn’t want to have kids? The answer is in all caps, bolded, and with many, many exclamation marks: “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!”.
I am not the type of person to use something like that as a weapon against another so viciously, so why is it acceptable and almost easy to use it against myself?
I feel it’s still very much hard-wired into society for any family nuclei to have to want children and for women to want to fulfill that biological role. But why does it have to be? There is so much good to be done in the world that doesn’t require heavy labels being chained to ourselves.
At this stage, we don’t want kids, not just because we can’t; we are content with enjoying our lives and each other. We might change our minds in the future. We might not. Our decision does not make me less of a woman. God will reveal other ways for us to cultivate the next generation and leave a legacy, and that’s enough.
If I could, I would give the world’s most expensive and rare treasures to help you see yourself as the incredible lady you are who brings compassion and grace to everyone you know, even if you are facing battles others can’t comprehend. I hope you never discount their worth. Just know, you are worthy, and more importantly, God sees you for the queen you are, so rock that crown.
Shattered Warrior 