Talking About the Taboos: Ten things I’ve gained, rather than lost, by not being able to have children

August is always a time of reflection for me. If my niece, Morgan, had made it to term, she would have been born on the 18th August, and this year she would have turned 15. The loss of her, her mum, and the impact of those loses on my own choices about having children myself, are therefore very much on my mind. You can probably see from the posts below, however, that how I’ve felt, and my thought processes linked to these events, have very much developed and changed over time, from a position of devastation to one where I am able to look forward and be grateful for the life choices still available to me.

Now, I know that many others are on a journey linked similar experiences, and so I thought it would be worth updating this blog series with where I have now arrived, in order to close off this experience arc, and hopefully show that you can find your joy at the end of the rainbow.

I’ve talked a lot previously about the loss of not being able to have children but I don’t think I’ve talked enough about what I’ve gained. Now, I want to start by saying that I don’t think many of the obstacles to work success, or professional engagement, that I cover in this are right. I strongly believe that you shouldn’t have to choose between family and career success. The system is in many ways broken, so that there is still a need to makes decisions and prioritise whether you choose family or work, across jobs in both academia and healthcare. That said, it is the reality that I often observe, and for someone who, somewhat, had the ability to make that choice taken away, I do think it’s worth talking about what I have gained, rather than focusing on what was removed.

I also want to be clear about 2 things as part of these reflections. First being that the dynamics obviously change over time. The equation is different if you have a 5 year old, vs a 15 year old, vs a 25 year old, and probably even more so if you have one child versus five. The second is that I’m claiming no expertise in this. This blog is purely written from my lived experience. It is not here to provide judgement about anyone else and their choices. Your mileage may therefore vary about how much this resonates or speaks to you. This study is a n=1, with all the caveats that come with that.

Ability to make different choices about retirement

Many of you will know that I’m a planner. I always have a sense of direction of travel for the next 10 years. I tend to flounder and feel stressed if I don’t. I had a plan to start a family. For some time the fact that I didn’t have a plan was in itself stressful, but then I made new plans, especially when it comes to work. Now, if things go to plan, I know my retirement date will be the 3rd October 2034. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t intend to stop working, but I intend to work in a way that I have a better work life balance and can achieve some other aspirations. At that point I will have done 30 years in the NHS, and I think it’s also important that I move out of the space I currently hold, so that someone else can be given the opportunity to enjoy the gift of a job I have.

I’m planning to move to the coast, with a view of the ocean, and write pathology murder mysteries 3 days a week. I can only have this plan, however, because I don’t have children who will be financially reliant on me, or who need us to stay in a specific geographical location. All of which frees me to make a different set of decisions to my friends who, currently, have small children.

Ability to enrich my life in different ways

There is no doubt in my mind about how lucky people with children are. They have bonds and experiences that are unique. There’s also no doubt in my mind that it must be far from easy, and although the benefits out weigh those challenges, it can’t be rainbows and bunnies the whole time.

I am fortunate enough to have a number of close friends who let their children call me Aunty, and so I get snap shots of what that must be like. I don’t feel like my life lacks for enrichment though. I am freed to be able to enrich my life in different ways, which likely would not have been possible with children.

Writing books whilst holding down a full time job requires 1) the most patient of husbands 2) writing by 7am on weekends, sometimes for 12 hours at a time. If I had children, even with the super supportive husband, I think weekends would need to look very different and this just wouldn’t be an option for me. I get such pleasure, and learn so much by going after these goals, and appreciate how fortunate I am to be able to make the choice to do so.

Ability to travel to conferences and for work

I’ve always loved to travel, although I’m also someone who likes to lock herself away and enjoy quality time with Mr Girlymicro.  During conference season this year I was travelling at least once a month for conferences, and that is with deliberately being selective about how many invites I accepted. I also have roles, such as that with the Health and Safety Executive, which require me to travel and stay away from home, and for a long time I was an international Ambassador for infection organisations in the US. All of which means frequent travel, not infrequently over weekends.

I think my capacity to do these added extras has benefited me professionally, but has also brought me a lot of joy and satisfaction on a personal level. My capacity to engage with them, I believe, would have been severely limited if I was also needing to prioritise family in a different way. I adore spending time with Mr Girlymicro, but if I’m away for a few days that can always be an excuse for him to have friends over for board games or do other things. Leaving him repeatedly as the sole carer would be a very different ask, and pretty unfair. Our joint ability to travel is also much easier, as we are paying for 2 rather than 3 or more, whilst also not needing to pay a school holiday subsidy. We avoid travelling in school holidays, partly because I’m not keen on the heat, but mostly because we can get so much more for the same budget by travelling off peak.

Ability to spend more quality time with loved ones

It’s no secret that, even after over 2 decades together, I would spend every moment of my life with Mr Girlymicro if I could. He’s my world, and I adore him. We also have a small and wonderful close circle of friends and family that, because of work and other commitments, I don’t get to spend enough time with even now. I don’t know how I would maintain any of this hard won balance if I’d added children to the mix. I guess the whole thing would just look different, not better, not worse, just different.

The quality time I spend probably also looks different without children. I love just being able to relax and be present with those I love. I don’t really function well with chaos, and introducing more complexity would certainly impact the moments of togetherness that I prioritise and make me so happy. Chilling on the sofa together, going to the cinema and hiding in Mr Girlymicro’s shoulder during a scary movie. The small moments that give my life meaning. These would all look different and I’m really happy with what I have.

Ability to make choices about professional progression

My job is a large part of my identity, sometimes too large a part – which is something I’m working on. There is no way to get around how I think children would have impacted this one, even with a husband who is so incredibly supportive, I can’t see how I would have managed to make Consultant and Professor if I also had caring commitments. Taking my FRCPath exams required 5 am studying before work and then putting in the hours every evening and every weekend. Papers and talks are often prepped at weekends, as there are never enough hours in the working day. I am in awe of people who manage these aspects whilst having children, but combined with needing to manage my health needs, I don’t think it would have been possible to me.

I feel like the positions I have enable me to give back, and to have so much more impact than I would have been able to have otherwise, and I find that so fulfilling. I suspect that this fulfillment is just different to that I would have had with and through children, but I am very grateful for the career I have and the opportunities that come my way because of it.

Ability to be selfish

This picture was taken at a friends recent event. There was a wonderful pool party going on, but I’m less keen on being outdoors, especially when the heat is intense. I’m also not great with big crowds, especially when confined with a lot of people, such as in a swimming pool.

I took the opportunity to sneak away to a lovely calm space and indulged myself by reading a book I’ve been desperate to finish, in air con with a glass of pimms. All of the parents were there by the pool, managing and looking out for the large number of children present. I was able to make a decision that worked for me, grabbing some real r&r, without having to manage the needs of my little ones.

I think the selflessness of parents is amazing, admirable, and something to be recognised and applauded. That said, I am really glad to be able to make decisions that work for me. Spending my days working in an environment where you always want to put the needs of patients first, it’s nice to be able to walk away and make a different choice in my down time. This is a gift that I don’t take for granted, and am highly appreciative of. I can nap when I want, eat when I want, and have down time and recovery when it works for my schedule. I love that for me.

Ability to live life on my terms

I love Christmas. I adore all things Disney. Mr Girlymicro and I love nothing more than a movie night, preferably accompanied by chinese food. I don’t have to have to know about Bluey, Peppa Pig, or the latest trend in children’s TV. My evenings and weekends are not about attending children’s parties, taking the kids to after school clubs, swimming classes, or drama groups.

So many of my friends have very little time for catching up outside of child centered events. This is not a problem, they have made friends with other parents who are also taking children to similar sessions. It does mean their capacity to join other events, or even have conversations, about activities that are not linked to their children can be limited. This is entirely normal, in fact I think it’s probably the only sane way to live. It does feel, to me, that their ties outside of these circles understandably often drift over time as a result.

We all have different groups that we are part of, and our participation in them will naturally wax and wane. I enjoy the fact that I can make these choices actively, based on how I want to choose to spend my time, rather than as a consequence of other factors. This one comes back a little to the being happy to be able to make selfish choices, but really, it’s about being able to have autonomy to make choices at all. I am able to prioritise things that make me (and Mr Girlymicro) happy, stimulated, or satiated, without guilt, and that is a freedom that I don’t take for granted.

Ability to open, and hold doors open, for others

So far, this post has been all about me, but I do think that the benefits extend further. I am fortunate, because of my position, to be able to undertake work that supports others, be that mentorship, supervision, sponsorship, or other ways to provide one on one support. I wouldn’t have the time or the resource to provide this kind of support if the time and resources I had available were channeled into raising children. (I’m not saying there aren’t people out there who manage to do both – just saying I think I would find it hard)

There have been nights when I have supported PhD data collection for others until late into the evening. There have been events where I’ve supported others on weekends. There has been many a call outside of working hours. All of which have been enabled by me being able to choose how to spend my time, and to invest that time in others. I get the joy of seeing others develop and flourish, which I find incredibly rewarding. They just aren’t my blood. The relationships built still have strength and value, and I value them highly. Supporting others is key to my core values and I love that I get to continue to do this,

Ability to invest energy in others

The other area, where I’ve been able to invest more widely, has been in finding time to run events, conferences, and even this blog. Running 100+ person conferences can’t be managed just within the day job. It requires making conference packs on weekends, organising printing and chasing speakers by email on evenings. Even with a great team supporting, the time needed means that work and home life blur. This is even more true with some of my other passion projects, like The Nosocomial Project, where the events take place on evenings and weekends, when the audience can attend. These various pieces have enabled me to reach thousands of people who have, hopefully, found benefit, but have also inspired me in return.

This blog provides me with a lot of joy, it aids my thinking, but a significant motivator has always been the hope that others find it useful. It does take time and resource though. There are costs in terms of money, for paying for the platform, email account etc, which might be hard to justify if I had a family that needed additional investment. It also has a considerable cost in terms of time. Often time is created by snatched hours during lunch or commuting, but it is usually requires at least one evening of focus a week. This time investment, and the associated thinking time, might be harder to identify if I didn’t have the ability to allocate my time in the way I do. The blog continues to grow and now reaches over 20,000 across over 100 countries every year. That growth requires a consistency of investment that I feel blessed to be able to provide, and would be more challenging if I had different demands on my resources.

Ability to prioritise in the moment

We all know I’m a planner, I’m not a massively spontaneous person. I do, however, have specific areas in my life where I enjoy the ability to make decisions on impulse. Now, I have to say these mostly relate to food. I am guilty of having the ‘fancies’ and I like to eat at places that come to my attention. This means that I may suddenly say to Mr Girlymicro that I really want to try out the latest dim sum place from Instagram, or that it has been ages since I went to my favourite seafood restaurant. I love being able to ask him to meet me after work so we can try places out. No worry about school pick up. No need to arrange a baby sitter. No concerns about whether the location is family friendly, or whether the reservation isn’t until 9:30. The whole process is much more straight forward for us than for my friends, who need to get everyone fed and home by bed time.

In recent months, I’ve also become a fan of the last minute theatre deal, or spontaneous cinema trip. I’ve been known to head to the cinema, and as Mr Girlymicro and I exit one screening, decide to already be booking into a follow on movie. I’ve been re-defining who I am outside of work, and these theatre and cinema trips mean a lot to me. I’m not going to want to spend £80+ a ticket to go and see something in the West End, but I’m loving taking advantage of a last minute £30 ticket. This also works so much better for me with the unpredictable nature of my work. I’ve lost track of the amount of money I’ve lost on tickets over the years from sudden work emergencies meaning I cannot attend events. This way I get to really get an improved work life balance, without fearing that work will stop me getting to the experience. I cannot tell you how much this has improved my general well being, and how much I’m enjoying life right now. I don’t know that this approach would be possible with the number of competing demands that come with a larger family dynamic. I’m sure that having kids would improve my well-being in other ways, but I am loving the way I get to experience life right now, and all the enrichment and joy I have in my world.

No matter with where you sit on all of this. The life choices you’ve either made, or have been made for you. It is possible to find a way back to joy, contentment with your day to day, and find value in your life. I hope this post has shared a tale which began with loss and has ended in more than just acceptance, it has ended with re-defining who I am and living in a place of joy. Loss will always be part of me, but so will the wondrous experiences that have happened since. This is more than talking a glass half full approach, it’s about reaching for the bottle of champagne and refilling the glass. Cheers!

All opinions in this blog are my own

Photo credits Steve Cross, Jon Cloutman-Green, and Rachel McKinary-Bridges

A DINK Household: Embracing a life with no kids, no guilt, only joy

I’ve got a few days off this week and so have finally been able to catch up with some friends and family. It’s also given me more time than normal to catch my breath and reflect a little. Most of my friends with kids however are instead running around from show to show, attending carol concerts, and trying to buy presents at midnight. This comparison has caused me to reflect on how glad I am to be part of a DINK household.

What on earth is a DINK? It’s a term I’ve heard thrown around for a while and I finally asked Mr Girlymicro what it stood for. Apparently, it stands for: double income, no kids. There’s also DINKY, which stands for double income, no kids yet.

I wrote a while ago about how it felt to be childless in my 40s and to discover I couldn’t have children. At that point, I had come to terms with it as a reality. Now, in the year my niece would have become a teenager, I have to say I’m more than OK. 13 years on I have such a different view on the whole situation. Not only am I OK, but I have come to embrace and enjoy all the opportunities that have come my way, many of which would not be available to me if I was looking after the next generation. This post is not to revel in the stress of those who have a different path, but to share that there can be joy for those of us who are on a different journey.

It’s not them versus us

Too often when I post about being childless on social media, whether defending my right to still leave work on time or stating that my life still has value, I get a response that sets me up as if it’s the childless vs the parents. My claiming that people who are not parents still have the right to work life balance does not take away from the rights of parents to have the same. One group having value does not detract from the other. I think it’s an interesting societal artefact that we are set up as opposites, when really we are nothing of the sort. It is not ‘Them vs Us’. It is about an appreciation of difference and recognising  the challenges and impacts on everyone’s lives of the decisions we make. I can want to have my life recognised as ‘of value’ without asking for someone else to have theirs diminished. 

My friends with children are a brilliant and an important part of my life. Being the fun aunt is important to me. My wonderful colleagues who have children absolute deserve to have allowances made so that they can be present and involved parents. I love hearing about the activities of their kids, their lives, and seeing the pictures. On the rare occasion I also need to leave on time to see my family, they are brilliant about ensuring it happens. I hope they feel I support them in the same way. This positioning of ‘Them vs Us’ isn’t real and if 2023 has taught me anything, it’s not to feed the trolls, so let’s see and value each other.

I have found my joy

I work hard. The days are long, and I’m often pretty tired and worn thin. I think there was a certain level of work for distraction for a while, but an awareness of using it to avoid processing has enabled me to face some things head on. As 2023 draws to a close, it’s turned out to have been a year of some amazing highs. 2022 in fact, also had some particularly rocking moments. There were some great professional wins brought about by all that work, which I’ve been forced to acknowledge would never have happened if I’d had to split my focus. I also had some truly wonderful times with Mr and mummy Girlymicro and some great friends, many of which would have been harder or more complicated if we’d had children. Sunsets, cocktails, and shopping would have just been more complicated. I experienced pure and unadulterated joy in just being in these moments. In the freedom, we have to just book a weekend away on a whim. Freedom that being a DINK household gives us that we would be unlikely to have otherwise. Joy that has become uncoloured by the ‘What Ifs’ that had previously removed some of the shine. Learning to live in and for these moments without looking back.

My life has value

One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced in moving forward is the unwritten societal expectation. I don’t know whether it is unconscious evolutionary pressure or a societal construct, but there is a perception that somehow your life has less value as you are not contributing the future by having children. That’s not to say that it all comes from other people. A lot of this is something we put on ourselves. It is not helped by people feeling like it is OK to make you justify your decisions at every point. You can’t have children? Why don’t you adopt? Have you considered IVF? Have you researched trying via a surrogate? To which I have a tendency to want to scream back ‘Oh no, I never considered any of those things. I’ve never lied awake at night running through my options. It just never occurred to me to research and find out more. Thank you so much for changing my life by enlightening me that there are other options!’. All of these conversations, whilst driven from a place of support, just reinforce the fact that no kids = no value.

Let me tell you now what I tell myself every day. I have value. It may not be in the same way, but my life is valuable, my contributions are valuable, and although different, I am still contributing the future of humankind.  I feel like I contribute professionally, but also by supporting friends with their families. Recognising this contribution in myself means that I now feel empowered to put more boundaries around my life to protect it and to respect that value. I am trying to leave work on time. I’m trying to not work weekends. I’m trying to find time for contributions that mean something to me and which I believe matter, like this blog and being a visible woman in STEM. If I don’t do it, how can I role model that for others, and how else can we have conversations about how to change some of the perceptions about value and childlessness.

I refuse to feel guilty

I’m done apologising. I’m done apologising if I need to put my life first some times. Now, I’m not talking all the time. We all have to be team players. I am, however, done with throwing myself over the metaphorical ledge in some perverse form of self flagellation for something I had no control over. I am also done with being made to feel guilty in conversations where I talk about my life and my opportunities. Yes, I get to go on holiday to New York and shop because I’m not paying out a crazy amount of money in nursery fees. I’m not going to hide it because I get to do something someone else can’t. In the same way, I embrace people showing me pictures of their kids, even if I can’t have any. Their children are an important part of their lives, and I care enough to be interested. The way I feel about lunch at Serendipity III in New York and the fact it featured in one of my favourite movies with my sister has meaning for me. Things are meaningful for different people in different ways, thus is the joy and variety of life.

I’ve heard the phrase ‘Not everyone is cut out to be a parent’ said to me a few times in recent years from a variety of sources. This is almost always linked to conversations about activities in which I’ve embraced my childless existence. The first few times, it really stung, almost as if it was a way of saying that if I’d been able to have kids I would have been a bad mum. It made me pretty unhappy that it was OK to throw around that kind of judgement. The more I’ve heard it though, the more I now see it as a sign that I have genuinely grown to be comfortable with who I am now. My identity is now so OK with my childless state that I am also OK with talking about the pieces of motherhood I would have found challenging, about being open with who I am to others. Although, if you feel like saying these words, probably best to discover how they might be taken before you do. Six years ago, the response may not have been so open and embracing of the conversation.

Embracing the life we’re given

Becoming comfortable with who you are, whether you have just encorporated grief into that identity or not, has been the first step in giving myself permission. Permission to make choices that work for me, permission to be happy, permission to draw boundaries, and if needed permission to stay in the bath soaking for 3 hours with tea and an audiobook.

Embracing the life I lead, rather than some sort of societal expectation or perception of the life I should lead, has completely changed how I make choices. Being aware of my privilege in getting to make those choices makes me value them even more. In one week this year, I got to go to the King’s Coronation and Eurovision. My life is pretty epic, and none of that is defined by whether I have a child or not. It’s defined by the choices I make to lead me down wonderful and unexpected pathways and filling my life with love through the people I make the journey with.

Never looking back

I’m done with ‘What Ifs’. If you are looking back all the time you can’t truly look forward. I’ve embraced the road that led me here but I’m not defined by it. It’s just a part of who I am, not the whole. It is all too easy to be haunted by the past, especially if  the reality of that past was that we had no control over the events. This can lead to a sense of disempowerment and a feeling that we lack agency from that moment forward. At some point, to regain a sense of control, you have to have some hard conversations with yourself about what that control looks like. For me, it’s about waking up every day and consciously choosing to embrace my now. To see the future as filled with possibilities rather than filled with ghosts of a future that will never be. I no longer have a crick in my neck from looking back, and I’m OK with that.

Travelling the road less travelled

So join me, whether your circumstances are driven by choices out of your control or not, in embracing the road less travelled. Join me in committing to being braver in facing up to uncertainty, reality and in having difficult conversations with ourselves when needed in 2024. We don’t know where the doors we open by these acts of bravery will lead us, but I can almost guarantee it will be unexpected. Your journey doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s. It’s uniquely yours, and that is the joy of it!

All opinions in this blog are my own