filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Why do some people think it’s perfectly acceptable to bring a toddler or baby into an adult-rated movie only to have them cry all the way through?
Not only is it hugely disrespectful to the other paying customers, there’s a reason some movies are rated unsuitable for children. It’s because they’re unsuitable for children!
It’s Whiny Wednesday; time to get it all off your chest. What’s your gripe?
The holidays are probably the hardest time of year for those of us without children, second only to Mother’s Day. And this was brought home to me with great clarity when a friend called me last week, practically in tears.
She is one of four sisters, and in the past, her family’s tradition has been to gather on Christmas Eve so that the two sisters with children could spend Christmas Day at home with just their immediate families. This year, the third sister has a baby and it’s her turn to host. She’s decided that she’d like to change the tradition and gather on the 25th instead so that “all the kids can spend Christmas Day together.” All the sisters—and the parents—agreed this would be great fun. All except my friend. She didn’t agree because she didn’t know and, in fact, only found out because her niece mentioned it.
It wasn’t that she and her husband were deliberately excluded from the plans—they weren’t considered at all, weren’t even included in any of the discussions or planning—and my friend feels triply hurt by this. She feels that she’s not important in her family because she doesn’t have children {and her family has proven that to be true}, and she feels slighted because her sister (who was also childless for many years and ought to know better) has given no consideration to how all this makes my friend feel even more rejected.
The final dig is that my friend now can’t spend Christmas with her family at all, because she’s already made plans (per the tradition) to spend Christmas Day with her in-laws. What makes this all even harder was that when my friend called me, she was on her way to watch her nephew’s basketball game. She’s the kind of auntie who goes out of her way to make sure she’s involved in the lives of her sisters’ kids, but it’s clear to her that her sisters don’t see her as part of the “real” family.
This year is the third holiday season for Life Without Baby and I know from your posts and comments over the years that this story isn’t rare at all. How about you? Do you feel your family treats you differently because you don’t have children?
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“If you want to improve your basketball game, teach someone else the basics.”
“If you want more love in your life, first love others.”
Guides to life such as these always inspire me. So simple, so true. Give, and you will receive, they remind me.
Recently I heard a new one that struck a deep chord: “Turn your wounds into wisdom.”
It made me think about the surprise benefit I got when I started writing these blog posts. Shortly into the process of sharing my story, I realized I was writing what I needed to read. And then, as all of you joined in and added your stories, I realized I was not alone, and I learned from and took comfort in what you shared.
That cycle continues as new LWBers open their hearts, share their wounds, and gain wisdom from those of us further along the path toward acceptance of our childfree lives. What a beautiful experience!
If you’re new to Life Without Baby, welcome! We’re glad you found us! If you’ve been here for a while, thank you for giving of yourself. I hope you all find encouragement, support, and the wise words that will help you heal.
Just in time for the not always happy holidays, we’ve released Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of classic blog posts that offer inspiration and encouragement for getting through the season when you’re childfree. Get your copy here.
I’m always hesitant to replace Whiny Wednesday, as it’s such a popular outlet for angst (see last week’s post as an example of the value of a place to vent, and laugh.)
But tradition here is to mix things up a bit on the day before Thanksgiving and make Whiny Wednesday more like Gratitude Wednesday.
So, in honor of Thanksgiving, what are you grateful for this week?
A number of years ago I got out of a long relationship. At the time I was also between jobs and my car had just passed 300,000 miles and was hinting that it didn’t want to do too many more. It was definitely a dark period in my life.
When I left the relationship, my friend offered me her couch and her daughter’s bed on the weeks her kids were with their dad. Here’s what she told me:
“You can stay here as long as you need and for the next two weeks you can do whatever you need to do. You can stay in bed all day, eat pizza, drink wine, not shower, and never change out of your PJs. You can sob into your pillow all night and sleep all day, if that’s what you need to do.
“But you have two weeks, and after that, you have to get up, pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and figure out how you’re going to start putting your life back together.”
At the time I thought she was being unreasonable, expecting me to get over this in two weeks. But that wasn’t what she was saying, and as it turned out, she did me a huge favor.
I did stay in bed and feel sorry for myself for much of those two weeks. But then I got up, found myself a crappy job (Telemarketing! It was the pits) that got me out of the house, earning a bit of money, and on the road to finding a less crappy job, and a place to live, and eventually, making me desirable enough to find a new relationship.
My friend’s tough love changed my philosophy about grief and I’ve shared it with other people since. If you’re in a place now where you feel as if you’re never going to get over not being able to have children, that your life is going to be the pits from this point forward, give yourself some time. You might not be able to stay in bed for two weeks, but can you clear your calendar of non-essential obligations? Can you line up movies or books and just give yourself permission to feel sorry for yourself? Can you make some time and space to just feel bad and to grieve?
If so, do it. But put a big circle on your calendar for two weeks from now, or however long you can take, and that’s the day you have to get up and figure out how you’re going to start making peace with this.
Look around the site and find some tips and support, buy a book on loss and grief and read it, make a plan for the future that’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Take a small step, just one, and start the process.
It’s going to take a lot longer than two weeks to “get over” this, but you have to start somewhere and you have to start sometime.
If you’re looking for some solace and an understanding voice, I hope you’ve had chance to check out the Holiday Companion. It’s available from this site as both a full-color and printable PDF, and now also available as an ebook on Amazon.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
There’s something about preparing a meal together that opens people up. You catch up on each other’s day, you share memories, you think about the person who first taught you how to level a measuring cup, test a strand of spaghetti, or chop onions without chopping off a finger. All those little moments come together in an emotional vortex when you’re sharing counter space with generations of loved ones and preparing a feast for a holiday meal.
I love the presents, decorations, music, and traditions of the holiday season as much as anyone, but what I miss the most as a childfree woman is the kitchen fun. As a family of two (and as a family of one until my early 40s), we don’t need six side dishes, two gravies, and a trio of pies. Even if we’re invited to join other family members or friends, I may be asked to bring an item, but I probably won’t be invited to spend the day in the kitchen.
Some women complain about the hours, if not days, spent shopping and preparing for an elaborate meal that will be gulfed down during halftime. I’m not one of them. I’d love to be included. I’d love to—even if it was just for that one day—feel like I was part of a big family again.
Just in time for the not always happy holidays, Lisa Manterfield and Kathleen Guthrie Woods have released Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of classic blog posts that offer inspiration and encouragement for getting through the season when you’re childfree. Order your copy here.
Today is Whiny Wednesday.
It’s the day you don’t have to be “nice” and keep your grumbles to yourself. If you have a gripe, here’s the place to get it off your chest.
Whine on!
It’s here!
The Life Without Baby Holiday Companion is now available—just in time to get you through the not-always-jolly holidays!
We know from personal experiences—and from stories shared by the wonderful readers of this site—that the holiday season can be especially painful when you wanted children but didn’t get to have them.
So we put together a collection of humorous, healing, and thought-provoking posts and tips, including “All I Want for Christmas is Wa,” “Baby Chitchat,” “Holiday Survival 101,” and “Top 10 Benefits of Childfree Holidays.”
As a member of the Life Without Baby community, you get to preview Holiday Companion before the ebook is released to the world on Amazon next week. PLUS, when you order your copy here, you’ll receive both the full-color PDF and a black and white printable version.
Our hope is that this book will give you inspiration and encouragement as you make your way to a happier new year and a happier new you.
Cheers!
Lisa & Kathleen
I love children again. I find myself cooing at babies, talking to little kids in restaurants, and enjoying interacting with other people’s children. Hurray! I’m back!
It wasn’t always this way. When it first became apparent that children weren’t going to be in my future, I went through a period of not liking other people’s children at all. I didn’t appreciate the joy of children—in fact the sound of children’s laughter didn’t make me smile; it about ripped my heart out. I didn’t want to interact with children and so I made a point of avoiding places where children congregate.
The trouble was, I didn’t like the me that didn’t like children. She wasn’t who I was. She was grouchy and bitter, the kind of woman who gives childless women a bad name! But I couldn’t help myself.
Now that I’m back, I realize my anti-kid-ness was a defense mechanism, my psyche’s way of protecting me while I got on with my healing process. Children reminded me of what I didn’t have, and it hurt to be around them. So I stayed away.
During this whole process of coming-to-terms with my infertility, I’ll admit to many unpleasant emotions and thoughts I wouldn’t want to share with anyone. But that doesn’t make me bitter, it doesn’t make me dark, and it doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. It’s just part of the process of protecting ourselves until the hurt starts to subside.
Have you noticed changes in yourself as time passes? If your old self was lost for a while, have you seen glimpses of her return?
The Life Without Baby Holiday Companion is out tomorrow. In case you can’t wait, you can pre-order yours here.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I’m at my wedding reception, all aglow in my big gown, overwhelmed (in a good way) by all the attention and love in the room. One of our guests comes up to me and says, “I’ve been watching you with your little nieces and nephews, and you’re so good with kids. Why don’t you have just one?”
Just what? Are you kidding me?! Like it’s so easy. Just like that, I’ll get pregnant, stay pregnant, pop it out, and the next 18-plus years will be a breeze.
The craziest part is when I told the story to my brand-new husband the next morning, he said, “Well, maybe we should try for a year and see what happens.” So much for all of our discussions about why we couldn’t have children (did I mention I was a 45-year-old first-time bride?) and why we wanted a family of two.
By the next day we were back to our senses and back on track to the beautiful life we’d planned together. Later I got to thinking about all the annoying “Just…” statements that people make. Like:
“Just adopt…just relax…just quit smoking…just get a job…just cut out sugar/carbs/fat/meat/anything that tastes good.”
Maybe I’m just feeling feisty today, but I’m pretty sick and tired of people—especially people who don’t know me well—who offer unhelpful advice. You know what I’d really like to say to them? “Just shut the f— up!”
Just in time for the not always happy holidays, Lisa Manterfield and Kathleen Guthrie Woods are releasing Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of classic blog posts that offer inspiration and encouragement for getting through the season when you’re childfree. The book will be available here on this site next Tuesday!
~ "a raw, transparent account of the gut-wrenching journey of infertility."
~ "a welcome sanity check for women left to wonder how society became so fixated on motherhood."
