Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayI’m finding that I don’t have much to whine about these days. While I’m thrilled to be in this place of peace, I’m not sure it’s doing much for Whiny Wednesday. I’m concerned that I’m not touching on the topics that might be at the forefront of your lives right now.

So, Kathleen gave me a great idea: Why not put a call out for guest whines?

If you have a topic you’d like to voice or a conversation you’d like to start, drop me a line. Just send me a couple of sentences with your whine and I’ll turn it into a guest post. Let me know too if you’d like to include your first name, a pseudonym, or be anonymous.

As for this week’s whines, feel free to unleash in the comments below.

Guest Post: Moving Past “Maybe”

By Katrina Blaydon

peaceI will be 34 in a few months and my husband of 3 years and I have been trying to have a baby for the past year and a half. I have PCOS and do not ovulate. He, however, is just fine. So, if I take a course of fertility drugs every month on particular dates, I ovulate. Problem solved. So, it was a very frustrating process to learn that every four weeks, we would face another heartbreak, despite physically being “able.” And it was less than comforting, when our wonderful doctor, whom we trust, said point blank, “I’m sorry you aren’t pregnant yet. I’m frustrated about this too, and I can’t explain it.”

Every month, we would anxiously and silently go out of our minds with a mix of excitement and sorrow, hope and heartbreak. Then one day, as I got teary eyed by myself at work in the bathroom stall discovering once again that I was not to be a mother, I decided that I could not do it one more time. I spoke with my husband, who is wonderful, who loves me and wants me to be happy, but who also wants to a father. We decided together, for our sanity and health, we needed to consider a way for us to “move on” and pursue other plans.

That entire time of hope and heartache, I had to live in a state of “maybe” and “what if.” Could I take Advil for a headache if I’m possibly pregnant? I had a cold this past winter, and I couldn’t take Dayquil, in case “maybe” I was pregnant. I couldn’t plan a beach trip with my girlfriends because maybe I would be pregnant by then and wanted to save my time off for maternity leave. I couldn’t plan my life; I couldn’t even cure a headache… That’s when I realized: I need to learn to move past “the maybe” of it.

It was a feeling of pure anger and fury over the situation. I likened it to seeing myself as a child stomping my feet and pumping my fists at God, saying, “I want this and you won’t give it to me!” And to be honest, those feelings were worse than feeling sad every four weeks because after that sadness, I could find hope again. But knowing that, after this anger would come bitterness for friends and coworkers who announced joyfully planned pregnancies, wasn’t easy to grasp.

As with anything, it got worse before it got better, and it took a few months to reach a point of not feeling red hot at the thought of it. I started attending church after months away, as if I were being the stubborn child who rebelled, saying, “I’ll show Him!” The truth was, I was too angry and too bitter to pray. I couldn’t praise a God who decided that a homeless teenager, or a crack addict, or a single mom who couldn’t feed the six children she already had, was destined to be a parent, instead of us. I couldn’t understand that, and I still don’t. I still get red cheeked when I think about that, but it’s not 24 hours a day anymore of anger. It’s not a sleepless night every single evening of the week anymore, and it’s not a daily breakdown in tears anymore. I’ve made great progress.

Learning to move past the state of maybe, was the only way I could allow myself any peace. I am not going to lie and say that I don’t feel those same feelings when I get invited to a first birthday party or the worst of them all, the baby shower. And yes, something like a bomb explodes in my chest when someone unknowingly asks me, “Are you two going to be next?” or “So, when are you two going to start a family?” And yes, I still cry sometimes, just because I feel sad about it. But, overall, my general day to day life is not consumed by it.

By working to accept a childless status, it’s brought me peace and a feeling of knowing the pressure is off. I can make other plans. I’m finally able to let go and feel “lighter” somehow without this unfinished agenda constantly in the back of my head. I try to be thankful for a good night’s sleep, or to have a free weekend to get away with my husband, or spend Saturday mornings gardening instead of dashing to and from soccer fields. We enjoy a spontaneous date night on a Wednesday without worrying about a sitter and bath time routines. We are thankful to have time to enjoy our friends. I enjoy quiet time for myself and yet, I still cry about all the silence in our house. But learning to move past “maybe” has let my heart rest and it’s let my mind relax, and it allowed me to pursue a greater health and wellness plan for my body. Maybe that’s when it’s time to move past the maybe and learn to consciously enjoy the life you are living. After all, the “maybe” will be there whether you are planning on it or not. And as one of my most encouraging friends told me, “Plans can be changed.” Yet another thing for which this infertile woman is thankful.

Katrina has her B.A. from Penn State University. She lives in central PA with her husband of three years.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayIf you’re new to the site, welcome. You may be wondering what this Whiny Wednesday thing is all about.

Whiny Wednesday is the place you get to grumble—judgment free—about whatever’s on your mind. No one will ask why you’re not over it yet and no one will think less of you for speaking the truth, warts and all. And, within the boundaries of appropriateness, no topic is off limits either.

So, if you have something on your mind you’d like to unload, here’s the place for it.

Whine on!

Memorials and Milestones

It’s Memorial Day here in the U.S. and Mr. Fab has asked that we go to the cemeteries where his relatives are buried. One of those cemeteries is also the place I had my big epiphany when I realized I was never going to have children.

I haven’t been back there since that day more than five years ago and I know it’s potentially a loaded place for me, but I think I’m going to be okay. Going back there will mark another milestone on my road to recovery and each one gets a little easier.

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MP900214902On the topic of milestones, this site passed its own milestone last week, with the 1000th post on this blog! I haven’t done the math, but I’m guessing 1000 posts equates to about 400,000 words. So, if you ever find yourself bored, feel free to browse what’s probably the equivalent of five books of posts!

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And speaking of books I have finally managed to get all your book recommendations up on the site. How long has it taken me? It took me way longer than it ought to have done and I finally found an easy way to do it. You can find the Books page here.

You’ll notice that the books are listed through the Amazon Affiliate program, which means that if you click through and buy the books from the links on this site, LWB will receive a small commission. This will help to offset the cost of providing the private community and keeping the site ad-free. (Those of you who were here in the early days may recall the site was housed on a free platform that had Google ads offering diapers, fertility clinics, and baby products.) If you’re not comfortable using the affiliate links, you can simply use the page as a list and then go directly to your preferred bookseller.

The Books page is still a work in progress and I hope to add more as I go, so please let me know if you come across a book that you think other readers would find helpful.

Our Stories: Melanie

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesHere’s a somewhat different story. For many (most?) of us, becoming a mother was a long-held dream, and losing that dream was a devastating experience. Melanie, however, never felt that “burning desire,” although she was open to having children if a husband wanted them. Now 48 and single, she has a healthy perspective on what being childfree means for her, and I think we can learn from her, maybe even embrace some of what she’s discovered for herself along the way. Take a look.

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Melanie: I am childfree by chance, I suppose. The opportunity has never come up for me, so I am content with the way things turned out.

 

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Melanie: I feel I am too old to have kids on my own anymore, so have accepted that outcome and am at peace with it.

 

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

Melanie: I don’t feel I need children to complete my life. I can concentrate my time on bettering myself and finding a partner with whom to enjoy life’s journey together. I also am able to get my children “fix” by spending quality time with my beautiful nieces. Additionally, I feel that children could be a financial burden in a way; I would have the added stress of providing for them, not only for their necessities, but also for their educations.

 

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Melanie: I’ve learned that I was not meant to be a mother in this lifetime. I have done a lot of personal development work, and maybe there’s a reason why the blessings of children did not come into my life. I think I needed to do more work on myself before I would be ready to be a mother. I think I’m best suited to be a mom to a pet instead!

 

LWB: What’s one thing you want other people to know about your being childfree?

Melanie: That a woman can still be happy and fulfilled without being a mom! There’s so much out there to experience as an individual in this world, and I am glad I have the independence to experience this either on my own or with a partner.

 

LWB: What do you look forward to now?

Melanie: Continuing to work on my personal goals in life and helping to make this world a better place for the next generation. Rather than choosing to have children, I choose to be a better person who could be a role model for my nieces. I hope that that could be my contribution during my time on this planet.

 

Won’t you share your story with us? Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

Reevaluating

thinkingWhen you realized you were never going to have kids, did you reassess your lives and make any big changes that you never would have made had you had kids?

I was asked this question recently and it caused me to stop and think. Much of the past five years has been spent healing, coming to terms with a life without children, and learning about myself again. And while I’ve done a lot of reassessing about the kind of life I want to live, I’m not sure much has changed.

When we thought we were going to have a young family, Mr. Fab and I had planned to buy a house in the neighborhood where we rent. The schools are good, and the city is family-friendly. But now we won’t be having children, that’s no longer a priority and we’ve talked a lot about where we’d like to live now that we’re free to live almost anywhere. Buying a house is no longer a priority. In fact we have our eyes on a sailboat instead.

But aside from that, not much has changed in the way we live. Much has changed in the way we thought we were going to live, but when I step back and reassess, life really has just gone as before.

Sometimes I think we feel pressure to do a major life overhaul when we realize we won’t have children, but is that true? Yes, I have more freedom to take opportunities and make changes, but after all is said I’m done, I’m still the same old Lisa and the things that were important to me before are largely still important to me now.

How about you? Have you made big changes now that your life won’t include children?

Our Stories: Jen

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesJen, 43, defines herself as childfree “largely by circumstance.” After she developed polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) as the result of long-undiagnosed Type II Diabetes, she and her husband of 20 years chose not to pursue fertility treatments. Giving up her dream of motherhood hasn’t been easy (see her answer to the “hardest part”), but she’s got a positive outlook and some sage advice for the rest of us on this journey. This is her story.

LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood:

Jen: I wanted the whole experience—not just a baby, but a child, a teenager, and an adult child. I anticipated guiding my child to becoming a good person who liked his/herself and contributed positively to the world. I was prepared for the challenges, the detours, the heartaches, and I even knew how I wanted to handle all the negatives: with compassion (which I didn’t get a lot of from my own mother), consistent guidance, and lots of open dialogue. I wanted my children to know they belonged to a family that loved them, regardless of their inevitable faults. I wanted to pass down my family’s stories, recipes, gift of gab, and readiness to laugh.

 

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Jen: We realized, after consulting with doctors, a pregnancy would be extremely high-risk and dangerous—for both me and our baby. My husband lost his parents young; he was just three when his mother died, and he physically cared for his dad from the time he was 11 years old until he was 20, when his dad finally succumbed to his disease. When I was told I was probably going to have kids with disabilities and/or health problems—if I even carried a baby to term—and that my own health would be further compromised regardless of the outcome, we decided not to continue. I didn’t feel it was fair to expect my husband to repeat the sacrifices he’d had to make as a kid. By this time, we had been married for 17 years. We had spent a good long time as a couple without kids, so we felt the adjustment wouldn’t be too difficult.

 

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Jen: I often feel my life has no purpose; I’m just filling it up with “stuff” and idle pursuits.

 

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

Jen: We have more disposable income, which allows us to enjoy more travel and entertainments.

 

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Jen: I’m still me. The only thing that has changed is what I expect from my life.

LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?

Jen: Don’t second-guess your decisions, and don’t be swayed by what someone else thinks you should do. Consider your partner and his needs. Remember, you married him to be with him, not just to have babies.

 

LWB: Where are you on your journey?

Jen: Very much embracing Plan B!

 

LWB: What do you look forward to now?

Jen: Taking my niece to Walt Disney World, getting more involved with the local community theatre, compiling my old family photos and stories in albums, and learning how to sleep in!

 

Won’t you share your story with us? Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

Lessons Learned From The Brink: Finding Support and Community

By Paulina Grace Hay

People's mandala - 12 handsA personal crisis of any kind can quickly throw your own intuition off kilter.  It can also show you what support you do and do not have around you.  I seem to come back to the need for support and community over and over.  My immediate family is not an option and close friends live far away.  What’s a girl to do?  Here’s a stroll down my life tackling these issues*.

*If at any time my stepping stones don’t resonate with you, don’t sweat it.  We’re all different, go with what works for you.  A good guideline to determine what or who works in your life is, “Do you come away feeling energized/lighter or drained/weighed down?”

Here are a few avenues I’ve tried over the years:

Professional Therapist

I struggled with needing to talk to a “professional” about sorting and processing my emotions.  I still do at times.  However, I’m a talker and my love language is words of affirmation so talk therapy is a natural fit for me.  Having someone I trust who has no vested interest or active part in my day-to-day life is crucial.  Behind closed doors and the promise of confidentiality I can let it all hang out emotionally without fear of judgment or rejection.  My therapist is also a professional with an incredible wealth of knowledge.  He or she can provide me with an unbiased opinion and on what is happening plus new ways to deal with triggers.

I use this option on an “as needed” basis.  When I’m feeling out of sorts for an extended period of time I find going in can help me pinpoint an issue more quickly.

 

In Person Infertility Support Group

Initially it felt safer and easier to process my feelings in the safety of my own home, in a private therapist’s office or behind a computer screen.  Yet, at some point I felt it was important to let this seemingly broken part of myself out into the daylight.  Regardless, I don’t think anyone is pumped about attending her first infertility support group.  What I found there were beautiful, smart and funny women even in the midst of pain and heartbreak.  It was refreshing to talk about our challenges openly.  I liked seeing all the head nodding and saying, “Oh, yes, that’s happened to me, too.”  We shed tears together and laughed out loud a lot.  Hearing everyone’s stories gave me new perspectives on mine.  Most importantly, I knew I was not alone on this journey.

The hardest part of an in person group for me was when to decide to stop going.  Everyone’s stories helped me realize much faster that I was not cut out for 1 or multiple rounds of IVF.  I learned why adoption was not going to solve my desire to be pregnant and see my genes and my husband’s in a new life.  The biggest eye opener was that I saw how my life had come to a screeching halt because of infertility.  I wanted to live again.  After I had made my decision to live childfree I found that going to the group was confusing.  It made me second guess my decision because most women were still actively trying.  I stayed friends with a couple of the women for a while and that was a better option.  If there was an in-person group for childfree women after infertililty, I would consider going to that now.

 

Online Blogs and Support

I’m so grateful for the LifeWithoutBaby blog and Lisa’s work.  When it’s 3 am and you’re crying in the dark, a blog post can be a friend that gets you through to 7 am and daylight.  What makes LWB especially appealing to me is there are no surprise, “Oh, I’m pregnant so welcome to my mommy blog!” transformations.  At times, I have to be very selective on where I let online wandering take me.  When I was feeling low, the wrong blog could make me feel worse.  The internet is wonderful in all it offers but sometimes being a little sheltered when you’re vulnerable is not a bad thing!

I also appreciate the new opportunity to guest blog post and share my stories to help women like me.

 

Art Journaling

Credit: http://www.cathymalchiodi.com/

Even though I’m creative in my professional life, I hadn’t done art purely for enjoyment in decades.  After attending an art workshop retreat (a scary move but life changing) I realized that I wanted to create for my sake and not for profitability’s sake.  I learned about art journaling there.  An art or visual journal is an illustrated diary or journal on any theme.  I paint, collage, write, doodle, whatever I want in mine.  I’ll often use my journals to keep quotes I’ve found on line or even articles.  I put photos of women I admire or the kind of life I want to lead to help me remember what I want for myself.  I’ve met many wonderful women through art, too.

 

Get Out of the House

When I’ve felt unsure of my place in my own world, I push myself out the door to get out into other ones.  In the age of the Internet, there are so many ways to get involved in organizations and meet new people.  Here are some activities I’ve tried over the years.  Some were great, others were busts, but ultimately I feel if I keep trying new stuff, new good things are more likely to come my way.

  • Improv Class – one of my favorites.  I would laugh every week and who couldn’t use more of that?!
  • Attended a TEDx conference in a city an hour away by myself.  It was unnerving to not know anyone but I had an incredible lunch with an older woman who told me about her life story.  I also heard a speaker talk about a small girls rock camp that empowers girls in my city.  I’m now volunteering for that camp and have met all kinds of interesting women and I’m proud to help empower the next generation.
  • Signed up for GirlfriendCircles.com. My city didn’t have a lot of women participating but I actually met a couple of other childfree women and one has become a new friend.
  • Attended a MeetUp.com group for art and crafts.  Sure enough, I met more childfree women but it’s refreshing to have a different reason to connect and share.

My final thought is a favorite quote:

“Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

I’d love to hear how you have found support and community on your journey.

Paulina Grace walked away from the infertility roller coaster 6 years ago. She hopes to help other women let themselves grieve and then let themselves live. Outside of running her own business, Paulina fulfills her need to nurture by being an involved aunt and caring for her aging parents. 

Mother’s Day Retreat

beach-ocean4I know this is a tough weekend for many of you, as the Mother’s Day hoopla comes to head and you wrestle with taking care of yourself, fulfilling family obligations, and dodging the flippant “Happy Mother’s Day” greetings.

I thought we could use and emergency Whiny Weekend/Support/Retreat, so I’m posting this here and have also created a topic on the Community Forum, in case you need to just get away. I chose the image for this post so you can imagine yourself there if things get too wild.

So, hope you’re all doing okay. See you back here on Monday, when it will all be over.