Elm & Bloom

25/09/2026

I’ve been reflecting on last week and the wonderful week of talks and conversations I was lucky enough to be part of at World Childless Week. https://worldchildlessweek.net/

It was insightful, honest and raw at times — and I think that’s what made it so special.

There was something incredibly comforting about sharing space with people who understood.

No explanations needed.
No trying to find the “right” words.
Just that feeling of being heard by people who genuinely get it.

It reminded me how important **community** can be.

Not necessarily a community where we have to find answers or fix what has happened to us. Sometimes it’s simply about having somewhere to bring our stories, our questions, our sadness, our hopes — and to know we aren’t the only ones carrying them.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that since last week.

Maybe there is a need for more spaces where women who are childless not by choice can come together, talk, listen and simply *be*.

I’m not quite sure what that might look like yet.

But perhaps this is the beginning of a conversation. 🤍

And for those who shared something of themselves last week — thank you. It meant more than you probably realise.

World Childless Week supports and raises awareness of the childless not by choice, childless by circumstance, childless after infertility and involuntary childless every September.

18/09/2026

Less than 24 hours to go… ❤️

Tomorrow I’ll be hosting my webinar:

"Worthy of Remembering – becoming the curator of your own life. Preserving the story, possessions and legacy of a life without children."

What happens to the stories we carry, the possessions that have meaning for us, and the legacy we leave behind when we don’t have children?

This webinar is an opportunity to pause and think about those things — and about how we can become the curator of our own lives.

If you’ve been meaning to join, this is your final reminder. There’s still time to register:

https://worldchildlessweek.net/diary-2/worthy-of-remembering

Tomorrow — 9am BST

I’d love to see you there. 🌿

Every life tells a story. But who gets to decide how yours is carried forward?

16/09/2026

I've been thinking a lot about the word legacy.

Perhaps because of the loss of elders in my own life. Seeing friends lose theirs. And thinking about family members who are now facing the closing chapters of their lives.

It's an interesting word, isn't it?

For many of us, legacy is almost automatically associated with children. With the next generation.

What we'll pass on to them.

What they'll remember.

What we'll leave behind.

There can be an assumption that our children will carry our stories forward — remembering us, holding our memories, perhaps keeping our possessions and family stories alive.

But what happens when children aren't part of our story?

Who will remember us?

Who will look after our memories, our possessions and our stories?

Are we at risk of being quietly airbrushed out of our family histories — and perhaps even out of the wider stories of our communities?

I don't think so.

Perhaps it gives us an opportunity to think about legacy in a much broader way.

Not as something that only comes at the end of our lives, once everything has been lived.

But as something we can actively shape now.

Something we have agency over.

Something we can choose.

Our legacy might be found in the people we've encouraged.

The lives we've touched.

The things we've created.

The knowledge we've shared.

The work we've done.

The causes we've cared about.

The friendships we've nurtured.

The risks we've taken.

The courage we've shown.

The ways we've made someone else's life a little better.

Perhaps legacy isn't simply about what we leave to someone.

Perhaps it's about what we leave in the world.

And that makes me wonder:

What if, instead of measuring our lives by what we thought they would contain, we started thinking about what we want to create, contribute and leave behind?

Not because the loss doesn't matter.

But because it isn't the only story our lives have to tell.

I've been exploring this question for some time, and this Saturday I have the privilege of sharing some of my thoughts as part of World Childless Week.

I'll be talking about legacy, what we leave behind, and the choices we have in shaping our own stories.

More details tomorrow. 💛

21/07/2025

When you start thinking about having a family, your friends might be trying to do the same and as time passes, you'll find comfort in friends who are still waiting to get pregnant. They offer support, and you share the highs and lows, making you feel less lonely in your journey.

As time goes by, your circle of friends who are trying to conceive will likely become smaller. These friends, who understand what you're going through, continue to offer kindness, good advice, and genuine empathy.

But I remember the day one of my closest TTC (trying to conceive) friends told me she was pregnant. Fortunately, I was wearing sunglasses because I felt the heat of tears come as my heart sank. I wasn’t prepared for the complete mix of emotions. I was over the moon for her, but in that moment, I felt somehow betrayed, left out, even more isolated and alone than I had been before. My friend was uncomfortable delivering the news and I understood they felt relieved not to be part of the infertility group anymore, which left me feeling "left on the shelf."

The sharing of such news is difficult to navigate and my advice for you is, if you have a friend who shares your infertility struggles, maybe openly discuss what you would do when/if either of you became pregnant. Ask how each of you would like to learn this information. An in-person meet-up is best so words of comfort or a hug can be shared. Care and compassion for both people is key – for the person in the nervous early days of a pregnancy, as well as the person who remains childless. Also recognise that maybe the friendship will need to take some time to evolve as your paths go in different directions for a while.

If you need support along your infertility journey, especially if it ends without the success you were hoping know that you are not alone, I am here for you. Check out my website, or email to find out how we can work together.

[email protected]

17/07/2025

You do not need to feel guilty💚

Often when we make changes in our lives, and when we are on a healing journey, there can be a lot of guilt attached, but you do not need to feel guilty for these things.😘

You are entitled to protect your peace.💚

If you need guidance and support with protecting your peace, I can absolutely help you. Drop me an email to discuss [email protected]

15/07/2025

I stand with you.💚

Infertility and unsuccessful IVF is a tough journey and you don’t have to face it alone. I am here for you, I stand with you.

If you are struggling right now and not sure what’s next or where to turn, drop me an email and let’s have a chat.

[email protected]

09/07/2025

What happens to the 80-90% of women where IVF wasn’t successful?

As someone who has experienced unsuccessful IVF myself, I’m always interested in stats. I recently came across a stat that revealed the success rate for IVF treatments for a woman aged 40-42 is 10-20% per IVF cycle!

That means a huge 80-90% for whom treatment is unsuccessful!

And of course this statistic decreases with age. Although IVF and other options such as egg donation, can increase chances, there are still many people who are ending fertility treatments without becoming pregnant. What happens to all these stories?

My own experience felt like falling off a cliff when my treatment failed. I remember a consultant kindly trying to offer crumbs of comfort by telling me a natural pregnancy might occur after IVF due to reduced pressure and anxiety, and I know someone who experienced this, but for many others, they do not have the same outcome.

If this is you, and you are one of the 80-90%, know that you are not alone. If you’re finding life tough as you navigate life beyond infertility, you can find support with me.

This month I’m busy beavering away behind the scenes, planning some exciting new workshops and events online and in person that might be just what you need. You can stay up to date with these by signing up to my mailing list and I promise not to bombard you.
https://www.elmandbloom.co.uk/contact

04/07/2025

I was at a networking event recently and I’m always happy to my experiences of infertility and unsuccessful IVF treatments, especially as it’s part of the work I do now, however it really frustrates me when I get someone who tells me of someone they knew who took a particular supplement or oil, or tried a certain lifestyle and then became pregnant. I’m delighted for them, but what part of my story do they not hear?!

Despite every book I read, every doctor and consultant I saw, every holistic treatment I engaged in, every yoga session I went on, and every round of IVF I endured, it just wasn’t my story to become a parent, and I have made peace with this.

When someone shares their experience of being childless not by choice, please listen with compassion rather than rushing in with what you think is helpful advice. You don't know their story or the efforts they've made to become pregnant, and they probably have tried the solution you’re offering. There are no magic solutions to becoming a parent, and sensitivity is crucial. Respect their journey and understand that you are not an expert in their situation. They deserve empathy, not solutions. They don’t need fixing.

If you have found yourself childfree, or childless not by choice and you would like to mark that chapter of your life, or need help in looking into how you move forward down a different path, I am here to help. I’d love to chat, pop me an email [email protected]

02/07/2025

Feeling anxious about summer get togethers?

I get it, July is all about sunny days, longer evenings, and perfect weather! It’s the time for get-togethers with family and friends. Recently, I had a fantastic day with some lovely friends under the summer sun! However, when conversation turned to their children's lives, I sometimes feel like an outsider as I don’t have children.

My friends are supportive and so sensitive to my experiences, but I still feel like an outsider when the topic shifts to school or children’s milestones and if you have found yourself childless or childfree and not by choice, I bet you find yourself in these situations too.

Navigating these moments can be challenging, so acknowledging your feelings is essential. Even if you have accepted being child-free, you might still feel isolated without a family to talk about.

At the gathering with friends, I was aware I didn’t have the family drama some of them were describing. One friend was frazzled from their week of parenting, and I was thankful my week had been peaceful by comparison. Pausing in the moment and recognising this calm felt a relief to me.

I realise I offered a different life perspective to the conversation, and gave balance to the chat. I didn’t wait to be prompted and actively engaged in discussions about children without feeling like changing the subject or becoming silent. Rather than feeling disconnected and isolated by being child free, I felt valued, seen, and heard.

So my tip? Find lightness when listening to others and their experiences of parenthood, and keep an open mind. Go easy on yourself for any emotions that might arise in the moment and share your own experiences. This way, you’ll enjoy your summertime get-togethers rather than feel anxious about them.

If you finding yourself becoming anxious or overwhelmed by summer get togethers, I can offer support and guidance and help you move forward during these difficult times, pop me an email to discuss [email protected]

26/06/2025

As I browse my social media, I encounter numerous heartfelt stories about the struggles and pain associated with infertility. I can relate, as I have navigated the challenging journey of infertility, which ultimately did not result in the family

I had longed to nurture. Initially, this period of my life was all-consuming and devastating. As those around me continued to become parents, I felt an acute sense of being different and disconnected.

It seemed as though my infertility defined my identity.

During that time, comments such as "it will be you soon" or "do you have children?" were natural, but often difficult to hear.

A few years have passed since I tried to conceive. Nowadays, questions about whether I have children are seldom asked. As my friends' and family's children grow older, the differences in our lives seem less pronounced. I've not let being childless define me. It's easy to feel like an outsider, but hard to escape that unwanted place.

A recent comment I read suggested life experiences can either define you or gently shape you. Early on, when IVF failed, the pain was intense, but even in the darkest of moments, I realised I didn't want this experience to define me. It took time to discover my new identity and understand how to embrace the freedoms and opportunities of being childfree.

I can now acknowledge that it has shaped my life, even dare I say, positively. New opportunities have opened up that might not have existed if I had children. I've enjoyed exploring life and seizing opportunities. Yes, there are challenges and moments when my childlessness feels more acute, but it doesn’t define me.

If you're dealing with infertility, please know that your life does not need to be defined by this experience. If you're unsure how to move forward, please reach out. I’d love to support you in the next chapter of your life.