I met Civilla Morgan when she contacted me to do an interview with her. When we spoke we discovered that we share the same enthusiasm for supporting others in this childless community so now I’m happy that she’s sharing her inspirational story with us.
Her story is one of never meeting Mr Right and now it’s her positive attitude and her willingness to keep looking forward and not back that keeps her on track. I love her honesty when she acknowledges that the waves of grief still come but childlessness no longer rules her life.
Over to Civilla,
When I was a little girl, I had several dolls. But there was one whose name I remember to this day. Her name was Nancy. I loved her because she was one of those three-foot tall dolls that when you held up her hand, she walked with you. She was olive-skinned with jet black hair, brown eyes, and she had bangs. Nancy was my baby. I loved changing my doll baby’s clothes and combing their hair. I did it, like most other little girls, just knowing I would someday have children of my own.
As I made my way into my teens, I thought to myself, ‘I don’t know if I want kids. They seem like a lot of work.’ I definitely didn’t want to be a teen mom like some of my friends and classmates had become. I’m sure it also had something to do with my parents advising that a teen pregnancy would be frowned upon. I did not want to go there! So I made a plan: I would get married at 25 and then wait a year or two before having a child.
In my early 20’s, my brother had his first child. I fell in love! My biggest issue was, ‘it’s a boy! Boy clothes are BORING!’ But I gathered myself and decided that I was so in love with him that I would figure out how to shop for boy clothes. Four years later, my second nephew was born. By then I had the boy clothes shopping down to a science. I was actually beginning to like it. Yes, I would take a sneak peek at the pretty frilly girl clothes, but I was there for boy stuff. My second nephew was, and is, such a cutie pie. I was in love for the second time. It was also around that time that I started going to the OB/Gyn doctor to see what was going on. It was the beginning of, well, the end.
A few years later, my third nephew was born. Yes, I was in love once again. I was now buying clothes and toys at least six times per year. Birthdays and Christmas were definitely fun times for me in the boy’s section of my favorite department stores. And I loved the opportunity to go shopping for these people. I called them my Three Musketeers. They were and are the loves of my life.
I never met Mr Right.
But while they were growing up, I was battling the dreaded fibroids while trying to be in the right place at the right time to meet Mr. Right. At one point, I thought I had met him. We dated for two and half years before he advised me he had no intentions of ‘getting married again.’ So I dumped him post haste. I was broken-hearted, but to this day I stand by my decision. I dated, but never met Mr. Right. No, the answer is no. For those of you who wonder if I scared men away with my desperation. I had no desperation. In fact, maybe it was the opposite of desperation. i.e. nonchalance? At any rate, the fact is, it never happened.
But while it was never happening, I was internally remaining hopeful by having one, and then two, and then three myomectomies—fibroid removal surgeries. I even had a ‘non-invasive’ surgery where a robot was used. Instead of the bikini cut, the robot poked four holes into my belly and also went into my bellybutton. The unfortunate thing with that surgery was that after four hours, they brought me back out only to tell me they never did get to the fibroids. They had spent four hours muddling through scar tissue. I believe of all the surgeries, that was the most depressing. That was when it became a reality that my dreams of having a baby would probably not be taking place. No husband, no babies. I just could not imagine purposely raising a child by myself, which was why I had waited, trying to buy time.
Life is too short to look back
I used to look back and wonder if I made the right decision. I wondered if I could have raised a baby on my own. I don’t look back anymore. Looking back keeps me from looking forward. Life is too short to look back. If I kept looking back, I could turn around one day and realize there was nothing to look forward to because I had come to the end of my life and found I dwelled on what did not happen. That was not the life I wanted to live. I wanted to live my best, most relevant, and joyful life ever.
And I wanted other childless not by choice women who like myself really had no one to talk to, to realize they too could come out from inside themselves, from their hurting hearts; and realize they could live whatever life they wanted. They did not have to live anyone else’s life. They could really have a schedule where if they wanted to sit home and do nothing, no one would be allowed to make them feel guilty. I wanted childless not by choice women to feel empowered in a world where they, we, were generally misunderstood, judged, ignored, or shamed. Shamed into feeling that they should be over their childlessness in a timely fashion.
My childlessness no longer rules my life
Today, four years after my 11-year battle came to an end, I battle the waves too. The waves of sadness that come and go like the waves of the ocean I love so much. But my childlessness no longer rules my life. I cannot afford to allow it to do so. Life is too short.
The sadness of childlessness, an unfulfilled dream, an unfulfilled expectation, can come in waves even years later. But I have made it my mission to help childless not by choice women worldwide, remember how beautiful, and whole, and worthy, they are. We are.
How did this help you?
How did this story resonate with you? Please share your comments below to help other women.
If you would like to share your story and and inspire others I’d love to feature you. You can use your real name or any other that you chose to give me, and I’ll happily promote your website or blog. Some of the feedback I’ve had from the writers includes ‘I’m so pleased to have told my story now’, I’ve been astonished by the amount of messages I have received …. all grateful for me sharing this part of my story’, and ‘… seeing the response has been utterly humbling and beautiful. I’m so grateful to you.’
So if you think you could inspire others please cleave a comment below or contact me.