I just got back from a work trip in Europe, one of the few places where I always feel like I can breathe. Somewhere between the airport and the quiet café in Milan, I realized it had been exactly one year since I made the hardest decision of my life: letting go of parenthood.
I had already given up on the dream of a natural pregnancy, an IVF-assisted pregnancy with my own eggs, and with donor eggs. I had already let go of the dream of parenthood through adoption. And I had taken an unintended break from fostering.
The Final Fork in the Road
At this moment last year, I was considering whether to restart fostering. I had been in touch with a new agency—they did a home visit, we submitted some paperwork, and we just had a few last things to do before we started again.
But something was nagging at me. I couldn’t describe it. It was something internal. I didn’t feel right in my body or in my mind. My therapist encouraged me to keep going through the foster process—but to check in with my feelings.
How did I feel?
I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I didn’t want to accept it. I didn’t want to give up.
But I had to.
It was no longer right for me. I didn’t want to be in my 60s with a pre-teen. It was over for me, and I had to acknowledge it.
Grief Came First—And It Stayed
So, what has happened in this last year?
The first thing was grief. In fact, it still is grief.
When I told my husband that I didn’t want to continue the fostering process anymore, I also told him that I would be grieving. I was already grieving.
A year later, I am still grieving. Does it end? Will it ever end?
From my perspective, it’s like when a loved one has died. At first, it hurts bad. Everything reminds you of that person. Then time moves on and the pain gets a little less sharp. Then there’s a trigger, and it reminds you of your loss. And it still hurts. But over time, the loss feels less.
Relief I Didn’t Expect
But (and I’m not the one to say that there’s a happy ending to this story), the story continues.
In this last year, I have felt something else, too: relief.
With 20+ years of trying to be a parent, I am relieved that this part is over. I am relieved from the ups and downs, the roller coaster of emotions, the highs and lows, the expectations and the disappointments.
Relief is a great feeling. It is liberating. It is freedom.
I feel free from the weight of all that transpired for over 20 years.
What Comes Next?
There is a new beginning—and that’s where I am now. Standing in the in-between. Not where I was, and not yet where I’m going. What’s next is still unfolding.
But what I know today is this: I’m not alone.
There are more people like me than I ever realized. People who’ve had to let go of the dream of parenthood. People walking this quiet, complicated path. Finding communities like World Childless Week helped me see that. Helped me feel seen. It gave language to the grief, and space for the relief too. That kind of recognition has been a lifeline.
I’m not sure what the future holds, but I’m learning to live inside the quiet and trust that something new will find me.
