Learning I was infertile in such a reckless way forced me to acknowledge that I was never meant to be a mother.
I had been counting down the days to this surgery. But a nurse now hovered over me – and, taking a Post-it from my chart, he read two words that changed everything.
Still groggy from anaesthesia, I felt both astonished and confused, wondering if I’d really heard him right. Everything happened so fast. But after the shock had subsided, I felt – surprisingly – immense relief. After multiple trips to A&E – a morphine drip being the only way to cut through the pain – I was diagnosed with an ovarian dermoid cyst; also known as a mature cystic teratoma.
These cysts form when developed tissue collects in a strange location and they can contain tissue from hair, teeth, skin or bone. I only discovered mine because it continued to grow and press on other organs, leaving me doubled over in pain. I was diagnosed shortly after my first A&E visit, when my gynaecologist said the only way to stop the pain was surgery.
Because of how large the cyst was, and its positioning, they’d need to take the ovary it was attached to as well. So when the news about my likely infertility was delivered after my surgery, I was initially blindsided.
But learning I was infertile in such a comically reckless way forced me to acknowledge something I’d always sensed on a gut level: I was never meant to be a Learning I was infertile in such a reckless way forced me to acknowledge that I was never meant to be a mother started at around 25. Around the same time, many of my girlfriends were having babies and I was struck by how littleand tend to get deeply into my hobbies.
All in all, I knew being a parent would be a struggle for me.. My partner was a great guy, but imagining us having a baby made me feel like a giant pair of hands was slowly squeezing the air out of my chest.
I could finally accept the truth I’d struggled to acknowledge for so long: motherhood wasn’t – and isn’t – for meFor years afterwards, I told people I’d consider having kids if I ‘met the right person’, because I wasn’t ready to admit the truth: I just didn’t want to be a mother. As women, we’re taught that we’re supposed to want children; so admitting that I didn’t want to be a parent felt like a character flaw.
I could finally accept the truth I’d struggled to acknowledge to myself for so long: motherhood wasn’t – and isn’t – for me. I remember showing up to my therapist’s office in tears.
‘I don’t want kids, so why do I still feel sad? ’ I sobbed.. Perhaps if I hadn’t been losing my Dad piece by piece, the words on that Post-it wouldn’t have hurt as much; but at the time, it felt like it was another irreversible loss. My therapist helped me work through my grief and encouraged me to get a second opinion, because I was still confused by what exactly ‘infertility likely’ actually meant.
I made an appointment with the doctor who had written the Post-it note. She explained that my dermoid cyst had become infected, which resulted in extensive scar tissue throughout my reproductive organs. The only way I’d be able to conceive was through IVF or by using a, ‘but you don’t want kids, so you don’t need to worry about that,’ she added, signalling the appointment was over.
If I were the doctor, I would have asked the patient whether they wanted to know more about the alternative methods; just in case the person was still on the fence. In hindsight, I wish I’d had the nerve to confront her about the Post-it. But the whole interaction felt so brusque that once again, it left me feeling stunned. For years, I’d felt like there was something wrong with me for not wanting kids.
Although technically, my body had made the choice for me, meeting other women with similar stories made me feel less alone. Retro drink from the 70s some say was ‘cringe’ is now becoming coolInspired by the community I’ve found online, I relish in my free time to invest in my hobbies and friendships. I realised that getting my ovary removed didn’t just help me physically; it also lifted the weight of other people’s expectations.
Not once did a medical professional ask me how I felt about the news or whether I needed support. Thankfully, I don’t want kids; but what if I had? I can only imagine how traumatic it would be to receive heartbreaking news so flippantly. The best outdoor candles to buy now for alfresco dining and bug-free nightsShopping for new bedding?
Simba Sleep’s latest launch has options for every sleeperBy embracing a child-free path, I’m finally free to write my own story on my terms – but it doesn’t negate the fact that no one should get life-changing news via a sticky note. Rachel MossBelt bumping is the 'disrespectful' travel habit making airports unbearableMystery Escape
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