FAITH REAL LIFE
Monique Bertrand, 39, from Catford, South London, felt like a failure until something unexpected happened...
Trying to avoid eye contact, Imustered up the courage to admit something.
‘I don’t ever want children,’ I confessed to my date John, now 40, in 2016.
Atraditional African man, with ahuge extended family just like me, he was in shock.
‘Maybe we can change that,’ he sniggered.
Only, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Iwas lying through my teeth.
Iwanted children more than anything else in the world.
However, the sad truth was that it was highly unlikely that I’d ever be able to conceive naturally –news that had immediately sent me into adeep depression.
Always in ahuge amount of pain during my period, something that started in my late 20s, my whole body would ache from my head to my toes.
After being diagnosed with PCOS in October 2013, Iwas told that it was highly likely my fertility would be affected and Iplunged to an extremely dark place.
Single at the time, I felt like afailure.
So much so, I didn’t tell anyone what was going on –not even my mum Judith, now 56.
I wanted children more than anything
Withdrawing myself from social situations, the only time Iwould leave the house was to go to work.
Luckily, Ideveloped aclose bond with my work girls and they became like my family.
And after they had thrown me asurprise 30th birthday party, the gesture was enough for me to breakdown –I couldn’t control my emotions.
I’m never going to have children, I thought.
Only, after holding in the truth for so long, it was on that night that I finally confided in a friend.
‘You’re going to have to go back to the doctors to ask for extra info,’ she then confessed.
After my initial diagnosis, it felt as if
I’d been left in the dark.
I didn’t know the severity of my PCOS or what it really meant for my future.
‘I can’t promise you anything, it is advanced, but you can always hope,’ the consultant explained.
And it was in that moment, for the first time in years, Ihad a glimmer of hope.
Yet, Iknew there would still be rough with the smooth.
So when it came to meeting John in 2016, despite lying to begin with, after a year together, Iknew that Ineeded to tell him the truth.
Only, Iwas torn. He’s going to leave, he’s going to break up with me, why would he want to stay? All constant thoughts.
Yet, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
‘Well, it’s agood thing we believe in God,’ John soothed, his words ahuge relief for me. And then, we made apact. ‘If we can’t conceive naturally by the end of 2022, then we can go down the foster route,’ I suggested.
I didn’t want to p
