Choosing not to have kids is an act of self-love
When my husband and I got married in 2015, the majority of our plans included the phrase “when we have kids…” or “this is a great place for when we start a family”.
One of the reasons we chose Sweden as a country to immigrate to was because it sounded like a great place to raise a family and get support along the way.
Choosing to have children is a big decision.
It’s even bigger when you have a chronic illness like I do. An illness that has resulted in three surgeries and which has left me so sick that even taking care of our dog becomes a big ask, let alone myself.
Crohn’s disease is an incurable autoimmune disease that impacts the entire gastrointestinal tract. It causes my body to mistakenly attack healthy tissue in my body to the point where I become chronically inflamed.
In 2018, and a year and half into our lives in Sweden, I got very ill. The inflammation had gotten so bad that I needed to undergo a second surgery.
I was in a lot of pain and I was depressed because of it. The biggest struggle was how debilitated I felt. The emotional impact of how physically difficult it was to get out of bed, walk our dog or even take a shower gave me pause.
My husband was left to do almost everything. Apart from working through the feelings of being a burden and being okay with asking and accepting help, I realised something else.
I realised choosing not to have children was the least selfish thing I could do.
The what if’s
But what if…?
That’s the start of almost every question I get when I open up about my decision.
What if you regret your decision? What if you change your mind and it’s too late?
Do you ever wonder what kind of mother you would've been?
When I sat my husband down to have this discussion, I was prepared for the consequences. I knew this wasn’t the life we had envisioned at the start of our relationship.
His response was this, “Love, we don’t have to have kids.”
From that moment on it became our decision.
The decision
It wasn’t an easy decision but it felt like the right one for us. It felt right because it allowed us to let go of the pressure and be honest with ourselves about what having a child would look like during the dark stages of my illness.
I wasn’t coping when it was just the two of us (and our dog), how much pressure would a child add to that?
Giving myself the permission to let go of the idea of a life with children meant opening up to the possibilities that not having children would give me.
The trade-off
As a life coach one of the things I remind my clients of is this: there is always a trade-off to every decision we make.
The things you let go of to welcome something else.
Whatever you choose, you’ll always wonder what life would look like if you had taken a different path. I think that’s human nature and something we must learn to make peace with.
I also had to get clear on why I had wanted children in the first place.
Child-less means facing the fear of being alone
As I considered my decision, I had to get real about why I wanted children.
At my core, I needed to fill a void.
I was very lonely as a child. It’s one of the parts I work through the most during therapy because it impacts every aspect of my life if I am not aware of it.
My lonely part can take the wheel and react to or make decisions from a very limiting place.
Choosing not to have children is facing the possibility that I may ultimately be alone at the end. Phew. Heavy, right?
It’s a scary thought especially when a lot of what I do (consciously or unconsciously) is in the hopes of avoiding that.
Is that reason enough to have children when I know my body and mind would not be okay? It can’t be.
Part of the work, for me, is learning to work with this lonely part and finding other ways to give her what she needs.
Second chances
If I was living 100+ years ago, I am not sure I would be here right now. I’m almost certain that a perforated bowel would have killed me.
And this is the biggest lesson that my diagnosis has taught me. Life is about living.
So, what do I do with this second chance?
I get to choose what my life looks like.
I get to decide what living means for me.
I know that this illness is unpredictable and that in the lowest of lows I am heavily reliant on the support of my husband. So to me, choosing not to have kids is an act of love (or service), not only for myself but to him, too.
Living means saying yes to what I truly want to be doing with my life..
Yes to starting a business and changing careers.
Yes to moving countries three times.
Yes to opportunities that may require a bit of risk.
Yes to giving my body the gift of rest when I need it most.
Yes to not feeling mother’s guilt. The guilt I know I would have felt when I wouldn’t have been physically or emotionally able to be there for a little human the way I would’ve needed to.
Because here’s the thing. I need to prioritise my wellbeing in more ways than most.
Check-in on your why
So, when choosing to have children or not, how much of this decision is based on what society tells us life should look like?
With decisions like these are we really being honest with ourselves about why we want to have children?
What void are we potentially hoping to fill within ourselves, or our relationships that need our attention first?
The question that has been at the core of every decision since emergency surgery (and getting a second chance) is this: am I creating the life I truly want?
Just because everyone around me is doing something, doesn’t mean I should be doing it.
I think a part of me will always wonder what life would have looked like if we hadn’t moved to Sweden, if I hadn’t been diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease and, that’s okay.
I check-in with myself often and that part has never been loud enough to make me question my why for not having children.
I love the life I’ve chosen to create!
"I get to choose what my life looks like.
I get to decide what living means for me."
I loved this -- thank you for sharing your story!
"Life is about living." That's beautiful.
You are absolutely right: how we decide to live our lives is fundamentally up to us. It's inspiring and courageous that you decide to live the life the way you want - grounded in your unique experience and perspective.