‘Infertility stung me’: Black motherhood and me
March 2022
Illustration: Diana Ejaita/The Guardian
My first Guardian Long Read was published today. Here, I discuss my struggles with infertility, identity, and mental health. As I write:
The process of in vitro fertilisation is brutal, not only because of the mood swings brought on by hormone injections, but also because of the weight gain. One of the many things I have absorbed from everyday sexism is to hate my body, and I was acutely self-conscious about my belly – I had a baby bump without a baby.
In a way, I felt anti-feminist for wanting to be pregnant at a moment when more radical forms of kinship are being imagined. For several years, one friend of mine has been co-parenting a child with two of her romantic partners, moving beyond the cultural norm of one mother to three.
For many Black women I have come to know – ambitious, progressive, and independent – motherhood is a matter of choice. Some of my Black female friends have embraced their role as auntie, stepping into the position of jaunty elder who inspires their nieces and nephews to be adventurous. This nurturing role is fulfilled on their own terms, allowing them the freedom to pursue their life’s work – professional ambitions, financial security or travel. “I don’t want to make somebody else,” states the rebellious seductress Sula in Toni Morrison’s novel. “I want to make myself.”