Many women watch pregnancy ads and fondly remember their own experiences or feel envious of the expectant mother. Many women see a future mother and think of a dream come true. Many women see the belly of a pregnant woman and are attracted to it, and often want to touch it.

I’m not one of those women.

I see pregnancy ads and experience a visceral negative reaction related to my overwhelming terror of miscarriages, stillbirths, illnesses, and diseases. I see an expectant mother and imagine excruciating pain, tearing, bleeding and screaming. I see a pregnant belly and my instinct is to back away to avoid any chance of being invited to touch it.

I have an extreme fear of pregnancy and childbirth.

I’m not just talking about the nerves that many women have around the topic: I don’t know any woman who doesn’t have at least some level of anxiety about how her body will change during pregnancy and everything that could happen. bad during childbirth. It seems like everyone has heard a horror story or two that sticks with them.

What I’m talking about is a severe and debilitating fear. I cry even when considering the possibility of getting pregnant. I feel physically sick at the thought of a body growing in my core. Being even a day late for my period can trigger a panic attack.

The thing is, I don’t hate children. On the contrary: I always loved children, embraced their imagination and happily assumed the role of “monster” or “princess” or any character necessary for their game. I really celebrate with my friends and family when they announce that they are expanding their families because I am excited to see them as parents and I love spending time with their children.

So what kind of “monster” am I to be a perfectly “normal” functioning adult who loves children but hates (no, despises – no, is terrified of – no, is disgusted – no, all of these emotions are related? a ) the idea of ​​experiencing pregnancy and childbirth personally?

I am someone who suffers tokophobia.

Tokophobia is a fear of pregnancy and childbirth so extreme that it interferes with daily life and actively prevents someone from becoming pregnant. There are two types: Primary tokophobia is the fear of pregnancy and childbirth in women who have never been pregnant or given birth. Secondary tokophobia occurs after a woman has had a child and, perhaps because of a traumatic pregnancy or childbirth, develops a general fear of becoming pregnant again.

I have primary tokophobia. I have never been (and will never be) pregnant.

My husband knew this fear when he married me and understood that I would never have children. Our marriage is eight years strong and he is the closest thing to perfection that exists. He loves me deeply and I love him. But tokophobia is the third partner always present and lurking in our bedroom. When we physically express our love, we do so using a minimum of two methods of contraception. And yet, I hold my breath all month until, thankfully, my period comes again.

Of course, this is difficult for a marriage. I often gently push my husband away because during sex I am consumed by the terror of “what if he’s getting me pregnant?” My refusal to have sex may seem like a personal rejection to you. Don’t I love him? I don’t find him attractive? Are you doing things wrong? These are all things we’ve had to address during the difficult and deep conversations we’ve had over the years while dealing with my tokophobia. And while these conversations have left us raw and vulnerable, they have also created an intimacy that I believe has been critical to the strength and survival of our marriage. It has forced us to communicate regularly and clearly about our feelings on the subject, a practice that has become useful for other situations in our life together and this has created a deeply honest and meaningful relationship.

Women who have this overwhelming fear usually don’t talk about it because other people just don’t understand it. My tokophobia causes me extraordinary shame. I can’t relate to my friends who are pregnant or trying to conceive. I can’t hear the stories of your beautiful births (or the ones that didn’t go as planned) and I probably never will be able to.

I’ve been told to “get over it,” “don’t be so selfish,” and “just give it some time.” People tell me that my “biological clock will go off.” Women assure me that my “maternal instincts will awaken.” I’ve heard “any day now, your uterus will start throbbing and begging to have a baby.” These comments are insensitive and hurtful, and while I know they often come from a good place, they make me feel broken or less of a woman.

I’ve felt this way all my life. As a child, I played “orphanage,” not “house,” because I refused to pretend I had given birth to a baby. The idea horrified me at age 6 and still horrifies me at 30. I’m pretty sure it will horrify me during menopause. It is a fundamental and ingrained part of who I am. But I didn’t actually know fear had a name until a couple of years ago, when I started watching a TV show called “Call the Midwife.” I was hoping that forcing myself to watch these pregnancy stories would take away some of the fear, but it definitely didn’t. Still, I came across an episode that featured a woman with secondary tokophobia. While the phobia It did not receive an official name until 2000.The narrator describing this mid-20th century woman’s symptoms sounded like she was describing me. So I started researching more about the phobia.

Armed with new knowledge and terminology, I went to the doctor. At that time, in addition to the lifelong fear, I was also experiencing severe generalized anxiety. My doctor believed that the medication I was prescribed to help treat my general anxiety would also address the symptoms of my tokophobia. But even when I controlled my everyday anxiety, my fear of pregnancy and childbirth remained as strong as ever.

And even if therapy can help me with some aspects of my phobia, which is a possibility, it is unlikely that I will ever be able to completely overcome it.

So, for that reason, and for the sake of my mental health and the health of our sex life, and since we are sure that biological children are not something we want, my husband and I have decided it’s time to do something a little more definitive. and permanent to address my fears. We are looking forward to having a hysterectomy or vasectomy next year; although to be honest, even if my husband had a vasectomy, we would still be using another form of birth control because I am too afraid of even the thinnest one. possibility of getting pregnant.

Maybe one day I will be a mother. But I can almost certainly tell you that I will not give birth to my children. And that’s fine. Having dealt with this fear my entire life, I am slowly learning that while it is a big part of who I am, it is not my entire identity. I am no less of a woman for that. Womanhood is not (and should not be) based on our ability to have children, regardless of the physical, mental, financial or personal reasons we have for not wanting to have biological children. Being a woman is more than having or using a uterus. Motherhood is more than biology. I am more than my tokophobia.

Danielle Steiner is a freelance writer and editor. She lives in British Columbia, Canada, and occasionally steps out from behind her word-filled desk to explore the outdoors with her husband. You can find more of her on Instagram at @willowtreewords and on their website, willowtreewords.com.

This article originally appeared in Huff Post.