Vicki’s Story: Grieving the Child I Never Had

I suffered with terrible periods from the age of 11.

They weren’t just uncomfortable or inconvenient, they were debilitating. As I got older, the pain worsened, and at 22 I was finally diagnosed with endometriosis. Later, I was also diagnosed with adenomyosis.

Over the years, I underwent five surgeries to remove the endometriosis. Each time I hoped it would be the one that finally brought relief. But it always came back.

I tried synthetic hormones, but they never suited me. Eventually, my consultant advised that a hysterectomy would be the “cure” I had been longing for and the thing that would finally give me my life back.

In 2018, I naively agreed to a full hysterectomy. My ovaries were left in place, so I believed I would avoid early menopause. I truly thought I’d finally live a pain-free, happy life (and that the longing I’d always had for a child would somehow fade away).

How naive I was.

Soon after surgery, I was thrown into surgical menopause. What followed were several years of severe depression. My body felt like it had aged overnight, and emotionally I was in a place I had never experienced before.

I had given up the chance to have my own biological child.

At the time, I convinced myself it was the right decision and that being pain-free would make everything else easier. But the pain didn’t disappear, and neither did the longing.

Instead, I found myself grieving a baby who had never existed, yet felt completely real to me. I was grieving a future I had imagined for so long. That grief consumed my thoughts. It wasn’t dramatic or loud. It was quiet, constant, and deeply personal.

All around me, my friends began having children. I was genuinely happy for them, but it broke my heart at the same time. I was still in pain, physically and emotionally, watching everyone else move into a stage of life I would never experience.

Endometriosis is so often dismissed as “just bad periods,” but it’s so much more than that. It’s a whole-body disease that affects your entire life including your work, your relationships, your mental health, and for many women, your ability to have children.

More awareness is desperately needed.

Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is a day I dread.

I wake up with so many “what ifs.”

What if I’d made a different decision?
What if my body had behaved differently?
What if things had turned out another way?

I am beyond happy for those who have been blessed with children. That part is genuine. But for me, it is still one of the most painful days of the year.

My hysterectomy was eight years ago now, and sometimes there’s this quiet expectation that I should have “moved on.” That time should have healed it.

But life moving forward doesn’t change the reality that I will never have my own child.

That grief doesn’t expire.
It doesn’t follow a timeline.

And childlessness not by choice is a battle few truly understand.

How You Can Support Someone

Grief can enter someone’s life in so many different ways.

Not all loss is visible. Not all grief has a clear beginning or end.

If you have a friend, sister, aunt, cousin, anyone in your life who is childless, especially not by choice, acknowledge them.

Send a message.
Send a card.
Let them know they are seen and valued.

Small gestures really do mean the world.

Self-Care Tips

On Mother’s Day, do what you need to do.

See the people you need to see but protect yourself too.

Limit social media if it feels overwhelming. Try not to let your mind spiral into “what ifs.” Give yourself the same compassion you would offer a close friend in your position.

Remind yourself (as many times as you need to) that even if you are not a mum, you still matter.

Mother’s Day is just one day, and you are allowed to move through it in whatever way feels right for you.