'I miss motherhood, but I also fear it': Author grapples with having kids again after death of daughters
'Parenthood is over for me. Or is it?' writes Clare McBride, whose daughters were killed by an impaired driver
In the series "Should I have kids?" CBC Manitoba's Creator Network asked gen-Zers and millennials to contemplate their reasons for choosing to have, or not have, children. In personal essays and videos, they reveal those reasons, from unresolved grief to finances, identity and the climate crisis.
Clare McBride, a children's author from a small town in Manitoba, writes about her experience in the fourth and final instalment of the series.
Click here to read Part 1 of the series, here to read Part 2 and here to read Part 3.
A decade ago I was pregnant with my first child.
I was 23 and married. Oksana was born in April 2013.
Seventeen months later Quinn, my second baby girl, arrived.
Before having my girls, I had never put a lot of thought or consideration into becoming a parent. I hadn't really considered the responsibility, challenges, changes or sacrifices.
Having children was just something that you do after you get married. So that's what I did.
I absolutely adored parenthood. I won't say it was easy, but I did enjoy it. Neither of my girls were good sleepers and breastfeeding was a struggle both times.
Yet as the girls got older, things fell into place. They were both smart and very funny, full of energy, loved making new friends and talked non-stop. Their family adored them.
In 2019, our story suddenly took a drastic turn from the happy tangent it was on.
Oksana and Quinn were killed by an impaired driver who ran a stop sign and T-boned our truck, as we were coming home after a Friday night swimming lesson at our local pool.
Oksana was six. Quinn was four. I was 30.
I was devastated. Wait, let me rephrase that: I am devastated.
I didn't get to finish what I started.- Clare McBride
It has been more than three years since the girls died and my mind is still stuck in an endless loop of fear, grief and shock.
Not only do I miss my girls with all my being, I miss motherhood too.
I didn't get to finish what I started.
'Couldn't I just start again?'
Despite the fact that I have given birth twice, I don't know what it's like to be the parent of a seven-year-old or an eight-year-old, and so on. I'll never get to go wedding dress shopping with my daughters or help them learn to breastfeed when they bring their own babies home.
Parenthood is over for me. Or is it? Couldn't I just start again? I'm only 33. I wrestle with this question often.
Daily, I fight several battles in my head between missing my girls and yearning for my lost motherhood, and then wondering if I actually could start again.
I am not the same person I was 10 years ago. And the world isn't the same either.
Honestly, when I look back on my pregnant 23-year-old self, I realize she wasn't actually a woman yet.
She was a naive girl. Life hadn't really knocked her about the ring much yet.
I am definitely an adult now, though. Profound grief has changed and continues to change my outlook on life.
Even just time has. As a 33-year-old, I think a lot differently than the 23-year-old me did.
'That love still calls to me'
If I was to choose to embrace parenthood again, the process of deciding on it would look so different this time around.
I actually know what I am getting myself into.
I have felt first-hand how hard pregnancy and birth is on a woman's body. I know what the sound of crying from a crib at 3 a.m. sounds like. I have lived through the brain fog of new motherhood, putting your child's nourishment over your own and losing hours of sleep each night.
I can still feel motherhood within me. I feel the joy, pride and exhaustion.
I remember the endless lists, countless bills and fees, the post-partum body dysmorphia, the forgotten sippy cups under the bed, the constant use of the laundry-stain stick and the never-ending dishes.
I remember all of it, especially the love.
And that love still calls to me.
My body is 10 years older. Grief still drains my energy.- Clare McBride
This time around, I would be going into parenthood with experience. I wouldn't be jumping in so naively or tenaciously this time either.
My body is 10 years older. Grief still drains my energy. I'm not yet working full time again since my daughters died. And I'm single now too.
Surrogacy, adoption, IVF? Where would we live? How would I support a child? Who could help me?
There's just so much to consider, something I never did 10 years ago.
I miss motherhood, but I also profoundly fear it.
I fear what the world can do to children, what people do to each other. I fear grief. I fear loss.
Could I have my heart broken again so viciously? Could I navigate the devastation and wreckage of the loss of another child again?
I don't know. I don't have a concrete answer to that question. Yet.
We really don't know what our lives hold at any given moment. We aren't truly in charge of our own fate.
I wasn't. My daughters weren't.
If I decide to have another child, that's a risk I will have to take.
CBC Creator Network is a national storytelling initiative that amplifies the voices, unique perspectives and stories of diverse creators across Canada. We work with emerging storytellers to help produce original content including short films, social videos, photo series, personal essays, audio essays, illustrations, and animation.
Check out Creator Network Manitoba projects here.