I am a very lucky person who has a huge amount to be happy and grateful for. But although I have many excellent friendships, I have had very few romantic relationships. I am now 36 and after 10 years of giving dating a real “go”, I have decided to become a single mum by choice. This has been a very positive decision for me and I am excited about the journey.
During a pre-screening psychological counselling session, the psychologist spoke about the grief many women in my shoes experience as a result of not having the family they’d hoped for. Although I was aware of this and have worked extensively on self-acceptance with my own therapist, I now feel deep sadness and regret at being unable to have formed a relationship with someone who wanted to have children with me. In my friends and colleagues groups, this sets me apart from most women my age. I am envious of the companionship and support my peers receive from their partners.
The other day, a colleague told me she was expecting. I was happy for her, but for the rest of the day all I wanted to do was cry. I felt completely alone. I have worked, quite successfully, to overcome the feeling of being unlovable, but this seems more difficult to overcome. I still want to move forward with my plan, but I would be grateful for guidance on how I can learn to live with this. I also sincerely wish to be a psychologically healthy parent to the child/children I very much hope to have.
I’d dearly like to know where this feeling of “being unlovable” came from? You’re giving this so much thought – far more than many women would going into motherhood in a more conventional setup. That shows you are a deep thinker and you are likely to become a “psychologically healthy parent”.
The psychotherapist Julia Bueno felt there had been a “reactivation of the ‘unlovable’ and that’s a core thing you may want to look at. It’s quite usual for childhood stuff to be dragged up when thinking about becoming a parent.” Bueno mentioned the US psychologist Janet Jaffe, a specialist in reproductive trauma, who “says we all come into the world with a reproductive story of whether we want to have kids. We carry this notion about how we’re going to be as grownups – in your case, maybe get together with someone and have children, and that got thwarted.”
It sounds as if you were offered specialist “implications” counselling from your clinic, whichis a prerequisite in certain situations from clinics licensed by the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority. Bueno thought your psychologist was “wise to bring up this ‘what is lost’ issue, as it’s common for solo mums-to-be to feel this way, and this feeling of loss can sometimes be disavowed in an effort to ‘move on and be positive’”.
Bueno and I picked up on your commendably positive slant and how grateful you are. But remember, while “that’s a positive and helpful feeling to nurture”, says Bueno, “it’s entirely possible to feel this alongside all the other negative or less-easy feelings”.
The fact that you wanted to cry at your colleague’s news means there are some big feelings, perhaps still a little repressed. Perhaps you feel “why them and not me?” All of these are valid.
I recently shared some dark and ungenerous – but real – feelings with someone I trusted and it was a massive release. I’ve felt lighter ever since. Trauma can make you feel very alone, so talking – connecting – is a great antidote to that feeling.
Bueno suggested “writing a letter to your grieving self from the perspective of a compassionate other, acknowledging how things have changed and what you have lost, but reminding yourself of your strengths and the potential of a happy but different family shape.”
Bueno also suggested that “finding support for solo mums may help you find strength and understanding. Your clinic can often put you in touch with them; also look at gingerbread.org.uk and the Donor Conception Network.” She also recommended Susan Golombok’s book, We Are Family.
Every week, Annalisa Barbieri addresses a personal problem sent in by a reader. If you would like advice from Annalisa, please send your problem to ask.annalisa@theguardian.com. Annalisa regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence. Submissions are subject to our terms and conditions. The latest series of Annalisa’s podcast is available here.
