
Manouk is involuntarily childless: “I find the baby showers the most painful”
If someone asked me in the past how I envisioned the future
I said very cliché that I wanted to become a mother, of a large family. I just saw myself as a young mother, with a house full of children. Preferably four to six children, don't ask me why. I do like a bit of life in the house, have a lot of love to give, so a house full of kids is more than welcome. Moreover, I didn't only see this with our own children, as there are so many children in the Netherlands who need a bit of love, because unfortunately they don't have a home or their home situation is not good for them.
My ideal was (and still is) to raise a number of our own children and in addition, a number of foster children
Unfortunately, I know all too well that planning for the future when it comes to the desire to have children is not always straightforward. I might like to think that I would want a number of children of our own, but that doesn't mean it will actually happen. At this moment, after five years of stopping contraception, 16 fertility treatments, countless hormone injections, and several miscarriages, we are still empty-handed. Sometimes I'm quite jealous of girls who are just about to fulfill their desire to have children, so blissfully naive and inquisitive. Everything is still fun and exciting at the beginning. You're in your 'pre-pregnancy bubble' at that time. I just can't imagine what that's like anymore; in that respect, I've become a bit embittered by the whole process. I sometimes still enjoy walking into a children's store, or fantasizing about the name of our little one, but those moments are often very brief. At the beginning of your desire to have children, you're just blissfully carefree, and everything related to pregnancy or babies is fun and interesting. Sometimes I long for those days when it was still fun to be involved with it.

Over the past few years, many friends and family members have become pregnant and there have been many
There have been a lot of babies born in our surroundings. Sometimes I handle it better than other times. It's not that I begrudge anyone else their pregnancy, not at all. We still go to children's birthday parties, baby showers, post-birth visits, and so on. Sometimes I even enjoy that. Seeing all those happy little faces (and then going back home to peace and quiet). And of course, these moments touch me, as they confront us with what we so dearly wish for but do not have. What I'm increasingly struggling with are baby showers and gender reveals. I've never really understood gender reveals; what does it matter what sex your child will be? I don't get why people would congratulate you for having a girl, for example. Wouldn't you congratulate someone if they were having a boy, or what's the point of the congratulations? But apparently, it's become an important thing nowadays to announce the sex of your baby in a big way. Everyone is, of course, entitled to their own opinion, but I just can't relate to this. Honestly, I couldn't care less about the sex of our child. The most important thing is that he or she is born healthy. Fortunately, we have few people in our surroundings who throw a big party for it, which saves me some frustration.
I consider baby showers to be a different story
I used to really enjoy going here. It's that sense of innocence that comes with being at the start of your journey to parenthood, when everything about pregnancy and babies seems fun at first. Naturally, a baby shower is the perfect place to be. I think that's also why I'm finding it increasingly difficult. At those times, it's so emphasized that someone is pregnant, how wonderful it is, and the conversation revolves non-stop around the belly, ailments, babies, children, and so on. In those moments, I often feel so lost and alone that it just hurts. And it has nothing to do with not being happy for someone else. It's just that at those times, it hits me hard that I'm not a mother and don't belong to 'the club.' Most baby showers nowadays are filled with women who already have children or are pregnant themselves. I just feel like an outsider at those times, and sometimes I even feel like I'm being watched. People know our story, and the last thing I want is to be pitied, or for people to make assumptions about me.

I also notice that it seems to be getting a bit harder for others around us now that we have been on the road for so long
Friends and family who, for the second or third time, for instance, are expecting and share the news with us with stomachaches and tears. In those moments, I feel like sinking into the ground. Have we really become that couple whom people approach with dread to share their pregnancy news? But unfortunately, that is the reality, that's who we are. The childless couple, who wants nothing more than to have a child, but for whom it just doesn't seem to work out. Luckily, we have many people around us who try to be considerate, by informing us in advance that they are expecting, so we are not caught off guard when the news is widely announced. We also get asked from time to time how certain things are for us, or how we are doing. I notice this happening less, which I find very unfortunate, but on the other hand, I might understand it. For others, it's also difficult to gauge when, for example, to ask, or they don't want to ask uncomfortable questions. But believe me, it's actually nice when people ask us how we experience certain things, or how we are doing at the moment. In those moments, it feels as though we are seen and heard, and that people are thinking of us. It often feels as though everyone and the whole world just keeps on living, but our life has been on hold for years. Everyone is passing us by, but our life is on hold in every aspect. When there is attention for our story, this feeling temporarily fades away. Of course, it still feels like we are standing still, but the fact that someone takes the time to pause with us is very comforting. It remains difficult that people are moving ahead of us, but that is unfortunately part of a fertility journey. The other person can't change anything. The only thing they can do is to be a little considerate of our situation by talking to us about it, asking about it now and then, or letting us know they are thinking of us. It doesn't change the situation, but it can make a difference in how the situation feels to us. And that, at times, is worth its weight in gold, I can tell you.
With love,
MANOUK

