Being unable to have a child is hard. It’s exhausting.
As the years and months add up, I have seen myself being reduced to an object of mockery to the mean and callous, and an object of pity to the kindhearted.
As I have experienced both in almost equal dosage, I have concluded that, of the two, mockery is easier to endure than pity.
Pity makes me feel inadequate, like I am not enough. I have always been a strong-willed woman and I pride myself in being able to handle a lot of things, but I can’t handle pity. You see, pity is an all-time low; it’s degrading and demeaning. I find pity to be insincere, contemptuous and condescending. I hate being pitied.
I have stopped going for women’s gatherings because I cringe at the prospect of someone saying, “Oh, sorry dear. Don’t worry, be patient. God’s time is best.”
Like, really? You are feeling sorry for me???
I just don’t know how to deal with people’s sympathy. I wish I could control my fertility. I truly do wish I could flip a switch somewhere and boom, a baby! Or that I could walk in some shop and order a baby or two, even if it were for no other reason than that I can get my dignity back. I would do it so I stop attracting pity. I have a lot that is going right for me, yet it all fades away the moment someone hears I am childless.
Stop feeling pity for me! I am more than my womb. I have faith that one day I will have a child but I have accepted that today I don’t have one. Perhaps it’s okay that my womb has a different timetable than my heart.
Stop feeling pity for me! It takes away my dignity, and without it, what else do I have?
I don’t want pity, and I am sure a lot of other women in my predicament feel she same. We don’t want pity dressed up as empathy.
We want recognition that our value goes beyond our capability to reproduce. We want to be understood and supported as we go through this difficult journey. We want to be acknowledged so that many do not continue to suffer in silence and alone. We want medical solutions to be accessible and affordable. We want our families, friends and neighbors to treat with us with respect.
This is what we want. This is what we need. Not pity, even if it comes with the best of intentions; not even when it’s dressed up as empathy and compassion.
