Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Relocating

By Kathleen Guthrie

Good friends who live in the Midwest recently learned that layoffs are imminent, and they are looking at yet another move to another company, another town, another home. I’ve lost track of how many companies they’ve worked for over the years, but they’ve changed states at least two times since their kids were born, and in a few months, they’ll be packing up and making their way across another border.

Losing a job, uprooting from a community, managing all of the stresses that come with a move of any size or distance…my heart goes out to them. Add to that the difficulties for their now-teenage children. After the last move, their sons, who were sports stars in their former town, had to try to quickly prove themselves to new coaches (with mixed success). My friend, who has always been involved with her kids’ schools, was turned away from serving on the PTA board (talk about small town politics). Their daughter had to navigate new cliques. Now they’re going to do it all again.

My heart goes out to them, and then I say a little prayer of gratitude that we don’t have kids. If, God forbid, we are one day victims of budget reforms or downsizing and have to move to take new jobs, we could go anywhere in the world. Certainly, it would be painful to say good-bye to friends and nearby family, and it would break my heart to leave the city we love so much, but we could do it. We would make it work, without the limitations and challenges parents face, such as having to find a house near the right schools, or yanking a hormonal teenager away from her friends, or worrying that the painful choices we sometimes have to make are hurting the people we love the most.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s found that her book collection has grown every time she’s had to pack for a move.

Silly Saturday: Bold Facial Hair!

Photo courtsey: Wicked MonkeysBy Kathleen Guthrie

This has almost nothing to do with being childfree.

In Norway over the weekend of May 14, more than 150 contestants from around the world participated in the World Beard and Moustache Championship. In 17 categories, men’s facial hair designs were judged on size, grooming, originality, and how “good-looking” their style is. Medals were awarded.

While I’m initially drawn to the freak-show factor of the elaborate creations, I ultimately think, BRAVO! I love that these men have found a community where they are appreciated and celebrated. As Bruce Roe, president of a Washington-based Whisker Club and a multiple winner said, “The championships are an excuse for us to get together with our friends…I have some trophies, but the best part is the friends I’ve made through the years.”

Certainly, many people would look at these gentlemen and judge them as a sub-class of society. Funny, that sounds to me like how childfree women are often viewed. And, just like these fascinating bearded guys, we are ignoring our critics, demonstrating that we are fun-loving humans, reaching out to each other, and creating community.

I think that’s awesome!

P.S. Congratulations to Elmar Weisser of Germany who took home gold medals for the Full Beard Freestyle and Overall categories! Click here for photos of the 2011 winners.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She loves a feel-good human-interest story.

Book Review: Complete Without Kids

I recently read Dr. Ellen Walker’s new book, Complete Without Kids: An Insider’s Guide to Childfree Living by Choice or by Chance (Greenleaf Book Group, 2011). In it, she shines a spotlight on what it’s like to be childfree, based on dozens of interviews she conducted with singles and couples across the U.S. She covers the circumstances in which her interviewees became childfree – whether by choice, circumstance, or happenstance – and the effects that being childfree has had on their lives. She addresses the issues of pressure from friends, family, and society, as well the impact living childfree has on marriage, friendships, career, and the long-term future. Her research makes for a fascinating insight into the lives and choices of others.

Reading the book, it was interesting to spot traits I shared with some of Dr. Walker’s subjects and to put a clinical term to some of my own experiences of infertility and coming to terms with being childfree-not-by-choice. When Dr. Walker talks about one of Freud’s tools for coping, I could clearly identify my own path of applying logic to my own story and even convincing myself that I never really wanted the thing I couldn’t have. Freud called it rationalization; I call it “Fake it ’til you make it.” Regardless of the label, I was encouraged to learn that I wasn’t alone in the way I’d handled my own circumstances.

I was really touched and saddened by the story of Miriam, an 89-year-old woman who had dealt with infertility and admitted that, even now, she still feels deprived and has never been able to find peace with her childlessness. 43-year-old Jill attended a women’s retreat that began with a circle where everyone was asked to give her name and tell how many children and grandchildren she had!! Out of fifty women, Jill and a young Japanese exchange student were the only two who didn’t have children. Jill speculates as to how that experience influenced the younger woman’s decision to have children, so that she wouldn’t find herself the “odd duck” in the room later in life.

Fair warning to those of you who didn’t choose to be childfree. The book is definitely skewed towards people who made a clear decision to not have children. Dr. Walker, a psychologist who began this project while exploring her own choice to live childfree, points out early in the book that, although the three groups of childfree people overlap in places, she found a marked difference in attitude and experience between those who chose not to have kids and those who found themselves in that situation.  While the disadvantages of a childfree life get their space in the book, the advantages take center stage. However, as someone who wanted children but couldn’t, I was able to look at the many advantages quoted by those who chose to be childfree and use them to find a silver lining in my own situation.

Infertility, Men, and Communication

Kathleen sent this article to me this week. It’s a kind of “Top tips” for men going through infertility. I really appreciated the writer’s ability to find humor in this topic, and I admire that he was able to step back from his own experience (he and his wife now have three children) and offer some advice to other men who find themselves in this situation.

As we’ve discussed before, there seem to be so few resources aimed at men. While it’s often we women who go through the worst of the testing and unpleasant procedures, it’s easy to forget that the men involved are working through their own confusion, conflicting emotions, and sadness.

Here’s a man who tried to do the right thing. He gave his wife flowers after every failed procedure. What a nice guy! Except that, from his wife’s point-of-view, the flowers were just a reminder of the failure she felt.

His discussion about the importance of communication is dead on, and I think that it remains true even if you’ve decided to stop treatments, or if you’ve otherwise decided that children are not in your future. We humans can be fickle creatures and our big life decisions are seldom clear-cut. We waver, we reconsider, and we’re affected by events in our environment. Talking about this is critical.

I know I’m often guilty of keeping my thoughts to myself so as not to upset my husband (although he does read this blog from time-to-time, so it’s hard to have too many secrets!) But experience has shown me that being honest about what’s going on means fewer surprises for him and fewer, “I had no idea…” conversations.

Whiny Wednesday: Post-Election Day

Yesterday was Election Day in my hometown. This means that all last weekend and half of this week I was bombarded with phone calls, junk mail, and canvassers at my door.

I’m an intelligent adult. I read, I listen to the news, and I formulate my own opinions. So, no, it is not okay to hound me while I’m quietly pruning my roses on a Sunday afternoon. And no, it is not okay to verbally trash the opposition while I’m sitting on my porch. It is not okay to call all day asking for my vote; I work from home; I’m busy. And no, if you’re going to tout yourself as an environmental crusader, it is not okay to fill my mailbox with enough campaign fliers to paper the Empire State building.

It’s Whiny Wednesday, and it’s all over now, but I had to get that off my chest.

Childfree in Paris

This Meet-up group popped up in my email and caught my attention.

“Childfree in Paris” conjures romantic notions of sipping coffee and nibbling croissants with sleek sophisticated women, talking about fine food, fabulous art, and chic fashion. Granted, my high school French would get me the coffee and croissant and very little actual conversation, but I love the idea that there are childfree women all over the world.

For those of you looking to find kindred spirits a little closer to home, Meet-up is a great resource. You can search for groups, or create your own. You can gather members, set up events, and then go off and meet like-minded people.

Consider starting a Meet-up group in your area and posting a link here.

It Got Me Thinking…About Cravings

By Kathleen Guthrie

Chocolate, sushi, coffee, shellfish, swordfish, wine, deli meats, soft cheeses, cocktails, salad bars…conventional medical wisdom strongly recommends pregnant women cut out all these foods.

Fortunately, I’m not pregnant, and I have no plans to get pregnant. And because I am an adult of mostly sound mind, I can eat and drink anything I want. Therefore, I’d like to start with a lemon drop martini, a shrimp cocktail, and a side of raw chocolate chip cookie dough, please.

What are you craving today?

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is trying to embrace being childfree.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang expected to soar at auction

It’s been quite an emotional week this week, between Mother’s Day, post-show adrenaline drop, and the raging sinus infection that will not go away. I’m feeling like I need an Eat, Pray, Love kind of escape.

After my “I don’t want to talk about this” post on Wednesday, Sue (check) suggested that blogging about something other than being childfree and infertile might do me a world of good. After fainting at the thought of getting a whole new blog up and running (and fed with posts) I decided that what this blog needs is a little silly every now and then.

And so, for something completely different…

Big news this week! Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is going up on the auction block this Sunday. I asked my friends if any of them would lend me a couple of million bucks so I could put in a bid, but alas, they all declined.

I think I may rent this movie this weekend, just for old times’ sake. I bet even as you read this, you’re singing:

Oh (Chitty) you (Chitty), Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, we love you.

And (Chitty) in (Chitty) Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’s what we’ll do!

In case you aren’t, here’s a little something to help you.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZU4S1G0JCk&w=560&h=349]

Which icons of your childhood would you be willing to drop a couple of million on (if money were no object?) Or what’s your favorite guilty pleasure movie?

I Failed My Own Test

Do you ever test yourself to see just how well you’re really doing with this whole “coming-to-terms” business? I’ve been doing it a lot lately. I’ve been inserting myself into mothering conversations, just to gauge how it makes me feel. I’ve started smiling at other people’s babies again, to see if it stirs up any dormant emotions. The other week, as I was driving past Babies R Us, I seriously considered pulling in and just walking around the store to see if I could do it. I realized it was a crazy idea, and I went home instead, but I’m pretty sure I would have been okay. Based on all these tests, in fact, I’d say I’m doing pretty well at re-entering the real world, where mothers and babies exist.

So, when I found myself in a conversation with a pregnant woman last week, it really was no big deal. I was genuinely happy for her and chatted about names and the baby’s sex, and how she was doing. No big deal. When she pulled a strange face I asked her if she was okay.

“Oh yes,” she said. “He’s just moving around. ”

I laughed and asked her what it was like.

“Here,” she said. “Do you want to feel him?”

Before I knew it I had my hands on her belly and I was looking at her wide-eyed as I felt her baby’s little backside sticking up in the air and a tiny pointy elbow poking out to one side.

“That’s amazing,” I told her. And it was.

As I drove home later that night, that baby was all I could think about. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a tidal wave of emotions barreling towards me and there was nothing I could do to get out of the way.

I could picture her little guy clearly and I imagined what it must be like to have another human being grow and move inside me. I could feel it. And then the what-ifs started. What if we tried IVF and it worked? What if we found an egg donor; wouldn’t it be worth it to go through that? And even as the logical side of my brain was listing all the good reasons to not even entertain these thoughts, the other side was cooking up a plan to offer myself up as a surrogate for another woman, just so I could experience what it would be like to be pregnant.

I’m not going to tell you that these were fleeting thoughts, nor am I going tell you how I laughed at my craziness and put these silly thoughts behind me; neither of those is true. But I am going to tell you that I know that this won’t be the last time this happens to me. My infertility is up there at the top of the “life-changing events” list in my life. And like the other experiences, it’s always going to be with me. Most of the time it will just hang out in the back of my mind and not give me too much trouble, but every now and then, something is going to trigger my memories and all those emotions will come rushing back. I think that’s just a part of being human.

My “Expressing Motherhood” Performance

For the past two weeks I’ve been performing in a show called Expressing Motherhood. In case you’re new to this blog, you can follow along with the story of how this came about in these posts:

Expressing Motherhood

Expressing Motherhood Report

Expressing Motherhood: Part III

Telling My Story

The show closed on Saturday night and I have to tell you that it was quite an experience. I performed alongside 12 mothers and one brave man, who offered stories – and songs – about motherhood in all its forms. And then there was me, telling my story about my relationship with motherhood.

The cast was really wonderful and so supportive of what I was aiming to do. They each said something encouraging, and several even commented that my story had given them a better understanding about infertility and the ongoing emotions involved. For that alone, it was worth it.

My story was second-to-last in the line-up, and I think it had the most impact there, after all the stories from the mothers (the lone man closed the show with a story about his own mother, which was perfect.) I got several kind compliments from audience members after the show, and although it’s hard to tell from the stage, I think that my story went down well.

After the show closed, I went through a few days of questioning my decision to get up there and put it all out for the world to see. Some of those feelings prompted yesterday’s “I don’t want to talk about this anymore” post, but overall, I’m pleased that the producers chose to include my story as another (often overlooked) facet of motherhood, and I’m pleased with the response it got.

So, for those of you who expressed an interest in seeing the show, here is my performance in Expressing Motherhood.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXiCnuDEzw4&w=560&h=349]