Canadian women share emotional toll of wanting and not wanting children

Canadian women share emotional toll of wanting and not wanting to have children

Carol Eugene Park/Supplied | Erin Sousa and her family/Supplied

Dr. Julia Sen knows firsthand that women choosing not to have kids or struggling to have children experience judgement, stigma, and isolation.

Sen, a registered clinical and counselling psychologist based in Toronto specializing in fertility and parenting, says women are up against age-old societal and historical expectations.

“As women, this is what we do. We bear children, [that’s how we] contribute to the world,” she told Daily Hive.

“We make sure the next generation shows up… There’s a heavy pressure from history — from all of history.”

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Things are changing in Canada when it comes to having children.

A February 2023 report from Statistics Canada highlighted that in 2022, more than a third of Canadians aged 15 to 49 did not intend to have children.

For women choosing to be child-free, they’re left questioning if they’re fulfilling their role of what “women” are supposed to do, said Sen.

But many women want children but are struggling with fertility.

According to federal government, health statistics, one in six couples trying to conceive in #Canada experience in fertility, the emotional toll of fertility treatments is all encompassing.

Read more 👉 https://t.co/Tjg86Rh2cg pic.twitter.com/SuKxoYJDhk

— Daily Hive Vancouver (@DailyHiveVan) December 7, 2023

In Canada, 8% of couples where the female partner is 15 to 45 years of age experience infertility, according to the Canadian Fertility & Andrology Society.

Sen says women going through fertility issues experience a “huge amount of guilt and shame.”

“A lot of [women] tend to blame internally, some [face] blame externally, but [a lot of women experience] self-criticism,” she explained.

No matter the circumstances, women are often faced with opinions, judgement, and outer and inner criticisms about having kids.

Child-free by choice and family opinions

Sen noted that a slow societal shift is taking place, making women feel more secure in choosing not to have children.

“We’re seeing many more empowered women who recognize that it is absolutely okay to focus on [themselves] and work through that discomfort. Because even though we’re empowered… history is still pulling at us,” Sen told Daily Hive.

Carol Eugene Park of Toronto is 27, and although she feels empowered by her decision to be child-free by choice, societal and familial expectations still weigh on her mind.

Carol Eugene Park/Submitted

“I have never wanted children; [I’ve known it] since I was five,” she told Daily Hive.

In her mid-20s, she says she feels more grounded and confident that she’s making the right choice.

“I feel a strong sense that I’ve made the right decision… At this point, I’ve never been happier than to realize so early on in my life that I want to be child-free.”

Park has also had to face the opinions of her family.

Growing up in a South Korean Christian household, Park was reminded by her parents that having children was of significant value.

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On top of that, the declining South Korean population was also a source of concern for her parents.

Park was 14 when she first told her father that she didn’t want to get married or have kids, but he thought “it was just a phase,” she said.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but before I left for university, my mom had told me in confidence that he had spent many years praying [that I would change my mind],” recalled Park.

As for her mom, Park said she was more understanding about her decision because of her experience as a young immigrant mother.

Many of the opinions Park has received about choosing not to have a traditional family life are rooted in continuing her family line.

“When I moved on to be very vocal about never getting married or having kids, it was more like, ‘This is your duty. You are the eldest child, and you need to carry on that legacy,'” explained Park.

“So a lot of that familial obligation of continuing your legacy is something that I definitely face to this day.”

And while Park feels a strong sense of assurance that she has made the right choice, she is surrounded by many friends who want to get married and have kids.

This sometimes leaves her wondering what it would feel like to also want a lifestyle for herself.

“It’s not doubt… but it’s more like a sadness of ‘Oh, if I hadn’t been so parent-ified as a kid, maybe I would have wanted this life, and maybe I would have been happy with it.'”

Being child-free doesn’t mean “you don’t care”

For Vancouver-based Christie Buono, choosing not to have kids was always in the back of her mind and evolved as a “phase of decision-making.”

Buono comes from a huge and very close family. While growing up, she says she dreamed about building a career, travelling, playing soccer, getting a dog, and eventually getting married.

“But I never really thought of having a family after that. It wasn’t something I had a natural instinct for,” she told Daily Hive.

Christie Buono/Supplied

After a major car accident in 2009, she was told by doctors that it would be a “miracle” if she would be able to have kids, and that’s when her decision was solidified.

“I think in that new chapter in my life, I just realized that that’s just not something I want to pursue.”

Buono says her parents have supported her journey, but approaching them about the topic was still nerve-wracking.

“I remember sitting my parents down years ago and asking how it would be if I didn’t add to their grandchildren’s number. I was nervous, but their kindness meant the world, and knowing they’d love me no matter what meant everything,” she said.

No matter what your family thinks or feels, Buono feels that women must do what is best for themselves.

“Those that love and care about you will support you,” she said.

Although she has had the support of her loved ones as a child-free woman, Buono is conscious of the societal judgement that comes with being perceived as “selfish” when you’ve chosen this lifestyle.

“There’s a stigma behind that because we actually care quite a bit, and it’s not necessarily a selfish decision,” she said.

“I’m taking time to really evaluate my life and become self-aware and realizing what I’m capable of taking on, and I just don’t feel like [kids are] the right fit for my journey. It doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Infertility is a harrowing experience

While some women are choosing not to have children, others want nothing more than to have a child.

Dr. Sen sees many women who are going through their fertility journey and notes the deeply painful implications that come along with it.

“Going through infertility itself is traumatic,” she said, noting that the experience also comes with an added “layer of trauma as [you’re] trying to accept somehow that [you may not] have a child, which is so incredibly debilitating.”

Penny Blesch knows firsthand the isolation, loneliness and judgement that comes when struggling with fertility.

Penny Blesch/Supplied

Shortly after marriage, the Vancouver-based fertility advocate and her husband tried to start a family in 2003.

After trying to conceive, the couple visited a fertility specialist and embarked on a six-year journey trying for a baby.

Blesch says those years wore her and her husband down “mentally, emotionally, and financially.”

Her body went through one physical challenge after another.

She was diagnosed with endometriosis and underwent surgery.

Then, after multiple rounds of IVF, Blesch and her husband had three embryos.

“One took, and I have one daughter, after six years… it’s hard to express for someone to understand unless they’ve been through something like that.”

“It was a very lonely, heartbreaking, devastating journey,” she explained.

“It hits at every level”

Blesch notes there are various waves of processing that are experienced during a fertility journey.

Blesch says the first blow comes when “you’re told you can’t reproduce, or there’s something wrong with you… but you’re not sure what.”

And then, there’s the money.

In Canada, there is no universal coverage for fertility treatments. Currently, seven provinces provide financial assistance for fertility treatments, but BC, where Blesch lives, is not one of them.

“In BC, you’re really on your own. It feels like a slap after being insulted,” she explained.

“First, you’re told that you can’t reproduce and there’s something wrong with you… and then to [get help], it’s going to be X amount of money.”

Beyond the expenses, nothing can prepare you for the physical and emotional toll the treatment takes on your body and spirit, noted Blesch.

“The treatment is a very physical process… and emotionally, it’s just as devastating as it is physically on your body. The impact… hits at every level.”

There are also deep social and relationship impacts that can add to isolation. During a time when you need a support system the most, fertility struggles often strip that away from you, Blesch explained.

When all of her friends were having their second pregnancies, they avoided telling her altogether because they knew how devastated she would feel.

“So they would almost hide their job, their own happiness, and kind of shield that from me because they knew how much pain it would cause me, and that’s such a terrible position to be in that I made them feel that way,” she said.

And even though others try to ask how you’re doing during your fertility treatments, eventually, “they stop asking because they know that it’s not working. They know you’re suffering from losses… They feel awkward because they don’t know how to have this conversation.”

After the birth of her daughter, Blesch decided to change career paths. She became the COO of Olive Fertility Center in Metro Vancouver. Now, she dedicates herself to patient advocacy as the founder of the Fertility Coalition of BC, hoping to break down barriers for individuals struggling with infertility.

“There just needs to be more compassion for people,” she said.

“You don’t know what a person is going through unless you experience the journey yourself.”

You think “something is wrong with you”

For Vancouver-based content creator and marketer Erin Sousa, the hardest part of the fertility journey was the feeling that “you genuinely think something’s wrong with you.”

“[You] think your body is broken. Your body is literally meant to have children,” she told Daily Hive.

In 2016, Sousa and her husband decided it was time to start trying for their first child, but they were experiencing challenges with conceiving.

The couple sought medical advice at a local fertility clinic and underwent Intrauterine insemination (IUI), a fertility treatment that gives sperm a better chance at fertilizing an egg.

In 2018, their third IUI treatment was successful, and Sousa and her husband were elated.

During her 10-week ultrasound, however, things took a devastating turn as they were informed that the baby did not have a heartbeat.

“It took us 2.5 years to make this baby, and it was gone in an instant,” Sousa wrote on her blog.

Sousa went on to experience two more miscarriages.

After those heartbreaking losses, Sousa got pregnant via IVF and gave birth to her daughter Lola in July 2020.

Erin Sousa/Supplied

Sousa has been incredibly open with her fertility journey, documenting it on her website.

“I think that with fertility treatments can come a lot of shame and guilt, loneliness, [and] isolation, and I think the best way to always uncloak anything like that is to take the covers off and just be open and vulnerable,” she said.

“That’s just my nature. And I know that when you are [vulnerable], it just helps more people feel less alone.”

Erin Sousa with her husband Roberto and daughter Lola/Supplied

Sousa knows the feelings of isolation that come with infertility. She says she didn’t necessarily experience judgement from others around her but rather “a misunderstanding of what it takes to go through fertility treatments.”

It’s not because people are intentionally trying to be mean or malicious but rather because they do not know how to respond to someone struggling to get pregnant.

“I think people trivialize it… and the biggest thing people do is brush it off,” said Sousa.

Throughout her fertility journey, she received advice from people trying to be supportive, reassuring her not to stress about it too much and to keep trying.

But these responses made Sousa feel that people weren’t able to listen to her experience or understand the realities of a fertility journey.

“I was surrounded by everybody in my life who could just quickly easily have kids. And so you don’t know who to talk to, you don’t know how to process those feelings, it is completely isolating and alone.”

Decisions and compassion

Although women choosing not to have children and those struggling with fertility are experiencing two very different realities, they are both faced with making tough emotional decisions that impact their physical and emotional well-being.

In either case, Sen stresses that showing yourself kindness is a must.

“The first place is to start with self-compassion… acknowledging what [you’ve] been through.”

And when others ask questions about your circumstances, Sen said boundaries need to be set.

“Set those boundaries with others to say, ‘I know you’re good intentioned… [but] it’s not what I need… and that’s not helpful for me.'”

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