How Childlessness is like Kudzu

I have been having pretty apathetic feelings about my childlessness lately.  Honestly, I’m so tired of thinking about it that when I do I get quite irritated at myself and/or the people or situations that bring it to the forefront. Maybe it was one of the reasons I had so much anxiety on my “family” vacation last week.  Family vacations only amplify that fact that the “family” will end with my generation, and the fact that vacations…like any other holiday…are glaringly void of the laughter and the presence of my children.

Like I said before.  I’m pretty much over the grief for myself, but what I cannot get away from is the constant reminders of the important thing my body failed to do.  I mean, just being in the presence of my family evokes strong emotions of what could never be for them because of me.  I feel like I’m choking and I want to run away from them even though I love them dearly.  My manifestations of anxiety lead to guilt which leads to depression.  A vicious cycle that’s for sure, and it’s strained every relationship I have.

When I read this post by Lisa this morning it really summed up my feelings.  I have been stuck so long in the web of childlessness I just want to be free.  I really don’t want to talk about it, blog about it, or be reminded of it.  The problem is to avoid the strong emotions I have to avoid the normal cultural and family events of life.    This condition is so unendingly isolating because I live in a culture where family is so important.  It feels like Kudzu vines taking over my life.  If you know anything about Kudzu (you really have to live in the U.S. South to understand the analogy) you can chop it down, remove every tendril you can find, and a week later it’s back taking over your garden, your yard, and even your house if left to it’s own devices. When we were kids we would put our fingers on a tendril of it, and within a few minutes it would literally start wrapping itself around our fingers. The only way to get rid of it is to use a very powerful herbicide which will kill every other green thing on your land…or move to a Kudzu-free property.

Right now I’m in the search of a healing…not the healing of my infertility, but the healing of my emotions and my soul, and a healing that will let me live in this fertile world amidst the never-ending daily reminders of what I don’t have,  The problem is I have no idea on how to make that happen without destroying all the “green things” in my life which is definitely not what I want to do at all.

The good thing is I’m praying for myself again which is something I haven’t been able to do in many years.  This time instead of praying desperately for a baby I’m praying for emotional and spiritual healing and a way to be healed among all the Kudzu vines of childlessness that threaten to daily choke the life out of me.   God created the Kudzu, and He’s the only one that can kill it or make me immune to it’s tendrils.


5 thoughts on “How Childlessness is like Kudzu

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  1. Hi Vicki,
    I’m just saying hi! Found you on Life Without Baby. I’m in a similar situation, even though there may still be some hope for me, but I’m in a place where it doesn’t look too good. It’s been hard, very hard for me to accept. But I’m trying to move forward with my life each day healing and as joyfully as possible. So wanted to say hello!

  2. What a great analogy. I love the idea of just moving to a kudzu-free property, and just leaving it all behind, but then I also know that I have to deal with the kudzu head-on. Maybe we CF/IF bloggers need to group together to start a new blog where we write about everything BUT this journey. 🙂

    Thanks for the blog mention, too. When something I write rings true with someone else, it reminds me of why I keep going back into the kudzu.

  3. I agree, what a great analogy! I find my grief over loss & childlessness tends to creep back into my life & pop up in unexpected places too. I guess we just need to keep hacking it back. ; )

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