I know that everyone recommends a short, succinct “About Page” written in the third person: yet that feels cold and lacking in the human connection needed when talking about such a personal situation.

However, I´m going to trust my instincts and ignore that advice. Instead, I´m going to write you a letter:

Dear reader

My childless-not-by-choice story began way back in 1993. I was recently married to Ian and grieving the death of my father. One day I woke up with the absolutely certainty that I desperately wanted children, which I later learned sometimes happens after the death of a parent. The problem was I was also ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN THAT I DID NOT want children with my husband.

At the Brits would say “A bit of a bummer, that!”

You see, Ian was a control freak, and I was subjected to frequent emotional abuse. Not an environment I wanted to raise children in.

So, I left him and entered the wilderness years of internet dating and being the “odd number” at dinner parties.

It wasn´t until 30th March 2002 that I met my future second husband. It had been a long nine-year gap during which the reassuring words from friends that “you´ve got plenty of time” became increasing hard to hear.

When Andrew and I met we both knew almost instantaneously that we were going to get married. However, Andrew was recently widowed. We needed to take our budding romance a little slowly, if only for the sake of his parents, and the friends of his late wife.

The universe had different ideas though.

Just before Christmas 2002, I conceived following a split condom “incident”. Although it was far too early in our relationship to have been considering children, after a couple of weeks “getting our heads around the situation”, we quickly embraced the idea of us becoming parents.

Two weeks later I had a miscarriage.

In the midst of our grief, we took comfort in the fact that I was obviously extremely fertile. Although I was just the “wrong side” of 35 we were reassured my eggs only needed to see sperm and I´d be pregnant. So, we decided to take things slowly again and wait until we were married before starting to grow our family.

Sadly, the universe had different ideas again.

Just over a year after our wedding, and on the morning of my 40th birthday, I woke up in screaming agony. Scans, blood tests, and exploratory surgery revealed that I had very extensive Stage Four Endometriosis. Something that my body had hidden for years. Add to that a badly frozen pelvis, a twisted tube, and an ovary stuck to my uterus, and my chances of conceiving naturally were somewhere between slim and zero.

A couple more miscarriages, two extensive surgeries by endo specialists, and a failed cycle of IVF followed in the space of three years. After which the universe spat me out and I tumbled to the floor. Exhausted and completely broken. I was a shadow of my former, vibrant self.

My emotions were so overwhelming that I feared if I stepped into the abyss, I would never find my way out again.

Instead, I opted for denial.

It was a comfort blanket I clung onto for about four years, until my inner voice said “ENOUGH” you must deal with this.

It was an enormous wake up call.

Basically, my soul was telling me “You can either carry on like you are, hardly existing let alone surviving, or you can make a conscious decision to do whatever it takes to create a happier life. You HAVE TO make your decision NOW. What are you going to do?”

I chose to change.

The first decision I made was I didn´t need to do this alone. There MUST be other people struggling with this. So, I joined a Facebook support group for CNBC women.

I had found my tribe and with their support I acknowledge what I was experiencing, probably for the first time ever. I had a name for what was overwhelming me, and that name was GRIEF.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to grieve. It’s not something that is talked about openly. So, I got stuck, until I realised that I needed to give myself permission.

Permission to grieve, permission to heal, and, keeping EVERYTHING crossed, I hoped eventually permission to thrive again.

However, all that was all in my past. My future is very different, and it all really started with CaNBaCe.

When I actually started to grieve, I began to struggle referring to myself as childless. It focused too much on what I didn´t have. My self-confidence and sense of self-worth at rock bottom. Yet every time I thought, talked, or wrote about my situation, this single word was reinforcing my sense of being LESS in the eyes of the wider world. I hated using the world: however, there was no alternative, so I used “CNBC” instead. Four letters that convey so much (to those in the know) without actually using the suffix “less”.

However, even back then I wanted to focus on what was good in my life and something that was more than a label. I wanted a lifestyle.

Taking the letters CNBC I inserted some vowels and discovered CaNBaCe – Creating a New, Beautiful, and Courageous existence.

As I write this, CaNBaCe is fast approaching its 5th birthday and so much has changed for me since then.

Creating a New, Beautiful, and Courageous existence has become a daily mantra that I declare to the universe. Every day I make that declaration as I connect with who I am and what I want my life to feel and look like.

As I´ve embrace my new, beautiful, and courageous life I´ve learnt some important lessons. One of the most significant being that grief doesn´t shrink. Instead, our lives get bigger, and the grief gradually begins to feel less overwhelming.

I also have a very clear purpose now which is to ditch an unsatisfactory “Plan B” and to reconnect with my “Plan A”.

A plan created with Andrew as our love grew and inspired us to dream a dream big enough for the two of us.

I`m under no illusions. I know that my “Plan A” is far from perfect.

For one thing, it still has a child-shaped hole slap bang in the middle of it. Yes, I still have days when the grief bubbles to the surface. However, they are now few and far between. Besides so many other elements of “Plan A” are worth saving and new dreams were being added all the time. Dreams that may never have seen the light of day if I´d become a mother.

So, it´s time for me to be defiant and declare that I am no longer defined by my losses. My future is a celebration of ALL that I am. Be that writer, poet, grief support admin, course creator, coach, writing mentor, or “human” to my adored pups.

In fact, my life has so many possibilities now I´ve had to create the “Niccisphere” to keep track of everything. A safe place where I can keep track of my random creativity. Thoughts that may, someday, morph into future books or courses. A place where the thoughts can sit, and keep each other company, until I´m ready to pick the one that will take me on my next adventure.

My “Plan A” has also taken on a tropical feel as Andrew and I create a new, beautiful, and courageous existence in Mexico. Another adventure that was easier to embrace because our “children” have four legs.

So rather than looking back on a broken “Plan A” and continuing to mourn the life I was unable to lead, I´m embracing “Plan A 2.0”.

A plan that now contains the “Niccisphere” were creative ideas whirl around until the ideas become dreams and those dreams then become a reality, surrounded by palm trees, mangoes, and margaritas at sunset!

In CaNBaCe friendship and support