How being childless not by choice shaped these people's lives

Michael Hughes and his wife underwent infertility treatment for 15 years.

On what ended up being their final IVF attempt, there was a pregnancy — their first. But it ended in miscarriage and Michael was done.

"I couldn't ride that roller-coaster anymore," the 56-year-old from Wollongong says.

"The roller-coaster of hope and despair was just getting more profound."

More than 10 years later, they still grapple with grief. But with time and therapy, Michael says their healing has progressed.

"This last Father's Day, for the first time since we stopped IVF 16 years ago, my wife turned to me and said: How old would our child have been if they survived that miscarriage?

"That was a very profound question, because my wife had never asked that — she was too scared."

Michael is just one of many readers who shared with us their experience of being childless not by choice.

Here are their stories — in their own words. Some responses have had identifying details removed for privacy.

Warning: This article talks about suicidal ideation.

'My grief was twofold'

Pamela Rowland, 70, Victor Harbor, SA

I fell in love with a man in the late 1970s who had already had a vasectomy at a very young age.

After counselling, he agreed to have a vasectomy reversal, and we were on IVF and GIFT (gamete intrafallopian transfer) for about five years, unfortunately without any successful pregnancies.

When I turned 38, and he was 45, we gave up trying as he did not want to be an older parent.

A few years later, he was diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer. He passed away 14 months after his diagnosis.

My grief was twofold: I was unable to have a child with him and I also lost a man whom I describe as the love of my life.

I have since had a very interesting life dealing with this grief. But I should also add that I have had a very full life, perhaps one I wouldn't have had if I had children.

I have worked professionally all my life, including owning three businesses, and I have great friends who I have travelled the world with.

You have to go within yourself spiritually and look at who you really want to be and how you want to live your life.

How things have unfolded for me has given me the opportunity to do that.

Now I'm in a terrific relationship.

'To say I feel alone in my grief is an understatement'

Casey, 39, Melbourne/Naarm

In my early 30s, I was diagnosed with premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD).

It's basically PMS (premenstrual syndrome) on steroids and affected me for roughly two weeks each month before getting my period.

I had many symptoms, but the worst was the overwhelming suicidal ideation.

At 35 I had surgical treatment, a bilateral oophorectomy, removing both ovaries and forcing my body into menopause overnight.

I investigated having my eggs frozen beforehand, however I simply couldn't afford to cover the cost.

I'm 39 now and have swapped feeling suicidal to feeling grief or bitter when I see families or pregnant women.

I recently married, and while my husband has three children, it doesn't fill the gap in the way so many people assume it would. It's just another reminder of what I don't have.

I literally do not know one single woman in my life who is not a mother but wanted to be one.

'There is social pressure to be that fun version of childless'

Anna, 40, Victoria

Being my age and without kids in the workplace is really hard. Not a day goes by without the presumption that I have kids.

Often I just remain silent. When I do need to explain why I don't have children, it's always met with incredible awkwardness, something I haven't learnt how to manage yet.

Not having children often impacts my capacity for small talk and connection with new people.

It informs who I connect with, how I spend my leisure time, plan my future, spend my money, and consider my career choices.

It feels like there is social pressure to be that fun version of childless that is the Sex and the City stereotype — celebrating every moment of freedom. It makes me feel quite sad and alone.

'I formed a subconscious belief that motherhood equalled misery'

Katherine Baldwin, 52, Dorset, England

In my early life, I formed a subconscious belief that motherhood equalled misery and parenting led to penury and pain.

I sensed how much my mum longed for freedom, adventure and a career, yet was weighed down by the responsibility of bringing up two kids on her own.

I concluded that children were a ball and chain around her neck, not a source of joy.

I had attachment wounds too, so when my biological clock started ticking in my late 30s, I craved motherhood and feared it in equal measure.

Ambivalence gripped me, which may explain why I fell in love with a man who didn't want to be a dad. It's only now that I see how much children can enrich our lives.

In short, my infertility is psychological. Since my childhood was out of my hands, I do my best to forgive myself, accept my path and embrace what I have.

Some comments have been edited for clarity and brevity. Thanks to everyone who shared with us.