[Pic: Getty]
Is there ever a right time to have a child? There's certainly a wrong child, according to BBC newsreader Kate Silverton. In an interview this week, the presenter told the Evening Standard that women are simply leaving it too late to start a family. Kate, 43, who gave birth to her second child in June this year and also has a three-year-old daughter, said she is all too aware of pressures faced by women today, resurfacing the age-old 'having it all' debate. 'A lot of women I know are having huge difficulty trying to conceive,' she said, 'and many are losing out by virtue of the fact that they can't see beyond their career, yet when they do come to a point where they are ready to start a family it is potentially too late.'
But is 'leaving it too late' always a choice? Here, two writers tell *Grazia *why their dreams to have a family were pushed aside by reasons out of their control - and therefore why 'Generation Childless' is on the rise...
‘I’m socially infertile’
Being childfree is not a conscious choice for everyone. Here, Amanda Revell Walton, reveals not meeting the right man in time means she’ll never have her longed-for family.
I have a vivid memory of being young and declaring to my best friend I was going to have FIVE children and was going to be a mum at 28.
But 28 came and went - as did a string of failed relationships with men who were either unsuitable or unfaithful. By the time I’d hit my thirties my love life had dwindled down to the occasional date... while all around me friends were getting married and then pregnant. When I hit 35, fears that I may never have my own child were overwhelming and I'd often experience panic attacks. 'What,' I kept asking myself, 'is going to be my meaning in life - if not to be a mother?'
Which is why I can totally sympathise with anyone angered by the controversial author Princeton Mom’s latest essay last weekend in which she advised women to have children ‘while they still can’. Believe me, any woman in this situation will know only too well that she is running out of time. But what is the alternative - using a sperm donor or making do with Mr Okay?
But then, aged 36, I fell madly in love. Six weeks after our first date, my boyfriend proposed and from that night we started trying for a baby. I felt giddy with love but also relief that finally, I was going to have the life I'd dreamed of.
Yet 18 months later, and after a barrage of gynaecological tests, we were given the heartbreaking diagnosis of 'unexplained infertility'. Two rounds of unsuccessful IVF followed before blood tests showed I was actually menopausal. I was 42.
From that moment any remaining hope I might have had of becoming a mum was extinguished. (I didn't want to go down the egg donation or adoption route.)
My husband and I firmly believe if we'd met earlier, we'd have had a family together. Sometimes we start to talk about what our child would have been like, but I stop these conversations dead in their tracks. It's too painful for both of us.
Once I'd cried all my tears, I started to determindly enjoy what I had… rather than mourn what I didn't. While it’s not the life I expected, it’s a fulfilling one.
The IVF Diaries (Cycle One) by Amanda Revell Walton is available from www.amazon.co.uk
‘I’m financially infertile’
It costs £225,000 to raise a child until they are 21. Any wonder increasing numbers of women - like Charley, 33 - would love children but simply can't afford to start a family.
When my niece Eva was born, I fell helplessly in love with her. And cuddling her close, I dreamed of the day I'd start my own family with my fiance Steve.
Except that's all it is. A dream.
Because I'm a victim of 'financial infertility': as far as I know, I'm able to have a child physically. But my bank balance (or lack of) tells a very different story.
I’m a singer and songwriter. Self-employed, I don’t have the security of maternity pay or knowing my job would still be there if I took a year out - or even a few months - to raise a baby.
Steve meanwhile is a university office manager and we're fully-fledged members of Generation Rent. The prospect of owning our home in London where we live seems as unachievable as having a baby. And what would happen when I wanted to return to work? Childcare costs an average £7,000 a year - by the time we've paid our rent and bills, the (small amount of) money we have left over is for us to enjoy a takeaway and a bottle of wine. A life of sacrifice is not one I'd want for me or my child.
I tell myself the time just isn’t right. But if I'm honest, I can’t see it ever being right. I look at friends who’ve had children and see them struggling with how much they’ve had to change their lives. I know the sensible thing would be to change my job, but giving up on your dreams is not a lesson I’d want to teach my child.
My family tells me babies don’t need money, they need love. While it’s a sweet sentiment, the reality of the matter is that they, in the long term, need both. So unless something dramatic happens to change our finances, raising a family is simply out of my reach.
So, what do you think? Are you infertile by choice or circumstance? Let us know below...