At the age of 28, I learned that my marriage would not result in children.
Whenever my mother inquired about my inability to conceive, I would respond, "God’s timing is perfect."
I never revealed the truth to her, that my husband was impotent. I bore that secret by myself.
My mother passed away without ever being aware of it.
In the meantime, my mother-in-law made my existence intolerable. She insisted that her son was perfectly fine and placed all the blame on me.
One day, I reached my breaking point and confronted her.
Rather than showing understanding, everyone branded me a bad wife for voicing my concerns.
Now, at nearly 46, I no longer yearn for children, not because I did not desire them, but because the choice, the fundamental right to decide whether I wanted children or not, was taken away from me.
