18 October, 2022

Childless No Kidding therapists and support

First, a disclaimer. I am not a therapist. I also have not seen a therapist, aside from two sessions when I went through pregnancy loss and subsequent IVF attempts. My comments therefore are based on only my experiences of trust, advice and betrayal.

Those of us who must live a childless, No Kidding life find a real home in this community, enjoying the depth and honesty of our discussions (here, on blogs, and other social media groups). Many of us want to be able to help those coming after us, or struggling to accept our positions, either by writing (or podcasts), or through more professional means. I’ve known quite a few who have gone on to qualify as therapists, or have seen therapists redirect their practices towards a No Kidding clientele. This provides a welcome alternative to therapists who just cannot see the perspective of those of us who don’t have children, the  loss of a future we had hoped for, the grief involved, and the ongoing losses and reminders of those losses that are all around us. Some of us have had an experience of going to a therapist who then got pregnant, and who struggled to (or didn’t try to) understand the perspective of their childless-not-by-choice clients.

But what if a No Kidding therapist is themselves having difficulties locking the door on their family building efforts, moving from Infertility’s Waiting Room through to the No Kidding door? After all, many of us have been diagnosed with “unexplained infertility” which always leaves that small window open to the possibility of a surprise pregnancy. Would a therapist in that situation fully understand No Kidding patients/clients, if they still held on to that hope? How might that affect their ability to understand our community? And if a surprise pregnancy occurred (however rare an occurrence that might be), how might that affect both her relationship with the community, and with any potential patients/clients they might have?

There is a huge difference in our feelings between still hoping and thinking there may be a chance to become a parent, however small that might be, and realising or accepting or truly knowing that that will NEVER happen. Even when we are close to the “it will NEVER happen” acceptance, a small window of hope doesn’t truly bring us face to face. I know that from my own experience, and from reading about and sharing experiences of many other women over the last 20 years! That small open window is an escape route that we cling to, being aware and glad that it is there, even when we are trying to accept and move on. It affects the way we think about ourselves, others, and the future. I can’t help but think it would influence a therapist, and the levels of advice and understanding they might give.

The difference between having that small window still open, and having it shut, is marked. It required a quite different attitude and outlook on life. Even with the window closed, there was still a tiny sliver of a gap for me, an extremely unlikely one (and one that my Fertility Guy scoffed at), and intellectually and emotionally, I knew that it was not an option. Understanding the difference between having a potential option, and no option at all, is critical. The loss was extraordinary. That needs to be understood by any therapist, or even by bloggers and friends in our community. To think that you were talking to someone who understands this, and then find that you were not, might feel like a betrayal.

Betrayal is a strong word. But I personally have had that experience with a couple of people on message boards some years ago. I thought I was talking to friends who truly understood my situation, who could joke with me about not being part of the exclusive “mother’s club.” I felt a solidarity and level of community that was supportive and allowed me to begin to heal. Only later to find that they actually already had children, much older children, and had hidden that from me. Yes, we had all experienced ectopic pregnancies, and shared that. But the outcomes – life without children – were very different. We were not in the same boat – far from it. Though I no longer feel the hurt, I am still surprised at the deception involved, and the degree of betrayal I felt when it was exposed.

Perhaps though, this is an example of the comfort that can come from those who (seemingly) make an effort to understand. Is it necessary or not necessary for them to have been through it? I think the difference is that I believed I was talking to people who had been through the same experience and emotions as I was going through. Or that they were going through it with me, too. If I’d known differently (as you might with a therapist), I might have felt differently too. It wouldn’t have been a betrayal, or hurt so much. But the level of sisterhood I had felt might not have been there either.

Likewise, I've had one or two weird experiences with women who completely turned on the CNBC community, who felt they deserved their good fortune, felt others “gave up,” and  attacked some of us saying that they were "not as resolved as they say they are" (expecting “resolution” to magically mean they were no longer grieving). The levels of judgement and lack of understanding and empathy were quite surreal. Experiences like this make many of us very hesitant at the prospect or reality of dealing with surprise pregnancies in trusted confidants or therapists.

There are of course friends and readers who comment here who are parents and who still provide support and validation and healing. I don't want to discount their value. But the core of the community is those who are childless not by choice. So whilst it might not be necessary to have a therapist who is a member of the No Kidding childless-not-by-choice community – especially when in the most intense grief and anguish – it certainly would be helpful and is worth searching out. And whilst you don’t need to be part of the No Kidding blogging or social media community to get comfort and support in healing, it certainly helps our level of acceptance and understanding to have that.

I’d be very interested in your thoughts and experiences around this. Have you had help from therapists who were parents or even pregnant at the time? How do you think you'd react if a blogger in our community suddenly announced a surprise pregnancy?  (Or surprise children?) As you might have guessed, this post arose from a question posed to me by a reader. I knew what I think, but I'd like them to hear from the wider community. Please, add your voice and help my reader.

3 comments:

  1. Hmmmm, interesting questions to ponder. So, I don't think I've ever had a therapist in my infertility life that was actually childless. I had a wonderful therapist through my clinic who didn't have kids but wasn't infertile, and left when she got pregnant. The next one was older and her son was grown, but I didn't feel she "got" me (the last thing you want out of therapy is for someone to keep telling you how strong you are and even tear up at your situation, and you're like OKAY YOU ARE A PROFESSIONAL AND CAN'T SEEM TO GRAPPLE WITH THIS, SO, UH, NOT WORKING." The best therapist I had ever had a child, and then got pregnant with a second when I was seeing her, but then moved out of state. She truly, truly "got" me and was the most empathetic and nonjudgmental person ever. Weirdly, my current therapist is her mother, who stayed in the area, and I enjoy her but her daughter was the best.

    So, long story, but I think empathy does not necessarily belong solely to the childless. And when there is a possibility of betrayal... that's rough. It boggles my mind that someone would lie about having older children, even through omission. That seems like the work of a sociopath. I understand (logically) those with "infertility amnesia" who decide their way is the only way and we just have to "try harder" -- they got what they wanted and become evangelical. And the media certainly doesn't dissuade them from their belief that parenting is The. Only. Way. It still stinks to be left feeling like people who were once in the trenches with you now do not respect your resolution.

    I would say it is hard to find a good therapist who is taking patients, and finding someone who "clicks" over someone without kids or who never wants kids or who's had a hysterectomy will significantly narrow your field and maybe then you don't get any help at a time when you can use it.

    On a side note, it was one of my happiest moments when I had had my hysterectomy and that window of possibility was walled off and taken off the table. What a relief, for me. I think it's hard to expect that sense of closure and "there is no way for this to happen" from those we seek services from though.

    Not sure if that was helpful or just the world's longest comment, but I hope it helped your reader!

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  2. I'm not your aimed-for commenter, but I have a thought to share.

    I recently nominated a woman I admire greatly as an adoption-competent therapist for a national award. When I finally disclosed that I'd nominated her, along with the reasons I listed in the submission, she was very moved and touched. But not because of the nomination!

    It was because her plans to become a mother never worked out for her, and to hear someone tell her what a difference she'd made for thousands of families acknowledged her contributions in her own way to family life. Not a mother but helping with mothering.

    My point: she couldn't speak to me from lived experience of raising an adoptee (or a nonadoptee). But she could speak to me from attachment, nonjudgment, wisdom, guidance, and all the other things that we are lucky to get from parental-types.

    That said, I do think that finding a CNBC therapist who has "done the work" would be super helpful. Then again, perhaps the real "super helpful" is in finding someone who has done (and continues to do) the work, whatever that is for them.

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