A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to suggest Whiny Wednesday topic ideas. Boy, did you deliver! So this week, I’m going to start posting some them. Let’s kick off with this one:
Running into old friends who now have children
Whine away!
filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to suggest Whiny Wednesday topic ideas. Boy, did you deliver! So this week, I’m going to start posting some them. Let’s kick off with this one:
Running into old friends who now have children
Whine away!
In the six years since I started this site, I don’t think I’ve ever done a book review for a novel. I’ve been reluctant to read any books covering the topic of infertility because I feared they might trigger some deep-seated emotions and undo all the work I’ve done. I’ve been especially reluctant to read fiction as I’ve always been afraid of the inevitable happy ending.
But recently I’ve had several requests to review novels on the topic of infertility, so I decided it was time to take the plunge. I know many of you are avid readers, so I hope you’ll enjoy the upcoming reviews.
In her debut novel, The End of Miracles (She Writes Press, 2016), author Monica Starkman, M.D., delves into her extensive professional research to explore the emotional devastation of miscarriage and stillbirth.
After fruitless years battling infertility, Margo Kerber is devastated when her seemingly miraculous pregnancy ends in a late-term miscarriage. Convinced she is pregnant again, Margo finds temporary relief from her grief. But when her fantasy clashes with reality and Margo’s pregnancy is discovered to be false, she slips into a deep depression that clouds both her grasp of reality and her judgment. When she spots a briefly unattended infant, she is compelled to commit an unthinkable crime.
From the opening of the book, I felt as if I were in the hands of someone writing with authority about the psychological aspects of infertility and how numbing grief can be. I found myself recognizing many of the “crazy” thoughts I had on my own journey, which Starkman courageously commits to paper.
I asked Starkman about her work in psychology and about her decision to tell this story:
Life Without Baby: What prompted you to write this book?
Monica Starkman: I had wanted to write a novel for a long time, in part to give something back to the world of literature as thanks for all the joy I’ve gained from reading. Nothing had piqued my interest enough to make the effort until I was asked to consult on and treat two women with false pregnancies. I realized that here was a topic: the strong desire and need to be pregnant, and the powerful repercussions of the frustration of that desire. That was intriguing and important enough for me to devote the time and determination that writing a novel required.
LWB: In your work as a psychiatrist, have you seen changes in the level of understanding about the emotional impact of infertility and unexpected childlessness?
MS: I can’t say that I have. I think that for even the woman/couple affected, the intensity of the emotions elicited by infertility and miscarriage still come as a complete surprise. And those not so affected are just beginning to realize this as well. For this reason, I recently wrote articles for MariaShriver.com and for PsychologyToday.com about miscarriage, false pregnancy, and infertility. I hope The End of Miracles will also bring such understanding to its readers.
LWB: In the book, Margo’s psychiatrist discusses the mind-body connection as regards to reproductive health. Could you talk a little more about this?
MS: Stress affects the brain, which can then affect the body by changing hormone levels and immune function, which can also impact reproductive function. However, for the survival of the species, Mother Nature protects reproduction as much as possible to withstand these effects. The mind-body relationship is bidirectional: the body also affects the mind. And as those affected with infertility know all too well, its negative effects on mental well-being are quite powerful.
LWB: As a writer and psychiatrist, you’re involved with both the sharing and receiving of stories. Why do you feel it’s important for us to share our stories?
MS: Being able to express strong feelings, by talking or writing about them, does help process them, relieves some of the internal pressure, and helps to come to terms with and master those feelings. Sharing stories helps others better understand how those affected feel and encourages compassion. In return, social support from empathetic others is a very important contributing factor on the path to healing.
LWB: What else do you hope to achieve with The End of Miracles?
MS: I want to give readers an accurate insider’s portrayal of psychiatry and psychiatrists. I hope to promote the idea that people with severe psychiatric illnesses, such as serious depression, aren’t so very different from the rest of us, and that despite their unraveling, there can be a path for healing.
Monica Starkman, M.D., is associate professor of psychiatry emerita and scientific researcher at the University of Michigan Medical School’s Department of Psychiatry. As a recognized expert on the effects of stress hormones on mood and brain structure, Monica has been published by dozens of academic journals and several news outlets including The New Republic, Vogue and MariaShriver.com.
By Paulina Grace Hay
One thing I’ve felt and heard many times is about being locked out of the “Mommy Club”—a club we felt we had a natural right to join, no special requirements necessary. Then infertility, illness, age, or time black-balled us. We stand wistfully outside trying to get a peek of the mothers inside living their ideal lives. We imagine all the judgment about our “child-free” lives will be washed away once we walk through those golden Mommy gates.
I live in an odd situation where my life straddles having no kids and having one kid. I have a teenage stepson. He was a toddler when I started dating his father. I am not a full-time stepmother and my son’s mother is very active in his life. Due to this unexpected loophole, I have been granted a “special guest pass” into the Mommy Club. But with restricted privileges. I’ve been outright ignored, given the once over, and warmly greeted. Sometimes by the same person.
I found my place at the club in the fly-on-the-wall seat. I’ve done my share of listening and observing over the years from this post. From the moment a woman is pregnant, people have lots of opinions to share in front of her face and behind her back. I’ve watched the awkward “Congratulations” and subsequently more awkward baby shower for the 19-year-old who got admitted too soon. I’ve watched one mother look down her nose at another for paying for lunch milk rather than packing it. I’ve heard one mother refer to another’s young child as “homely”. In return came an insult about their son’s need for a haircut. I’ve watched smiling faces drop like lead balloons after having an unexpected insult directed their way. I’ve heard the voices lower and eyes begin shifting as a group insult gains momentum.
If anything, admittance into the Mommy Club only ramps up your potential areas of judgment. Some are the old stand-bys. Your age. Your weight. Your hair. Your outfit. Your car. Your house. Your husband. Your ex-husband. Your job. Your decision to stay home. Then multiply all of those things by your child and husband. Possibly your parents and your dog, too. How you raise your kids has the highest potential for conflict of all.
The Mommy Club is not for the faint of heart. Often I saw these women enter with full armor on, even if it looked like yoga clothes, in the chance a battle may begin at any time. Very different to the rose-colored version I imagined, where a new mother would be greeted with open arms and loving support once inside the club walls.
My biggest lesson from access into the Mommy Club is this: Being a mother does not make you automatically connect with another person. I’ve found the same holds true for infertility. It just might give you something to talk about for a few minutes or a few get-togethers. We are more complex and interesting than our children. Or lack of them. I choose to instead consider that we are all part of the Human Club. And for that, there is no special admittance required.
Paulina Grace walked away from the infertility roller coaster six 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.
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Forty-four and single, Louisa* never really had a “goal” to have children, she simply thought “life would just happen.” There is some sadness as she reflects on not getting to have children of her own, but when I asked what she would want other people (such as moms, younger women, or strangers) to know about her being childfree, she answered with enthusiasm, “That it is okay!” I love her positive attitude. Here’s more of her story.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
Louisa: I guess childfree by chance, and a little by choice (because most of the time I say I didn’t want children). I had friends who wanted to be married by a certain age, and then have children by a certain age; it just didn’t happen for me. I have never been married, and never really met anyone who I thought I wanted to have children with.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
Louisa: Once in a while wishing I could have had a child, wishing I could have experienced a baby of my own. But then accepting that I’m past the age of having children. I am trying to love and accept myself as life goes on.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Louisa: Seeing a cute baby or child, and seeing the glorious expressions on its face as it learns the world and experiences the love it feels. [Sometimes it’s hard] when I’m holding a friend’s baby and it looks at me with innocence, love, and a smile!
LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?
Louisa: I know I would be a very over-protective parent and I would worry tremendously!
LWB: What have you learned about yourself?
Louisa: That it’s important to take advantage of time with family and friends. Love them, and always keep them in my heart.
LWB: What advice would you like to give to your younger self?
Louisa: Maybe to take a bit more control of your life and try not to be a late bloomer.
LWB: What do you look forward to now?
Louisa: I want a good year! I want to get my ducks in a row, create a secure future, feel secure in my life and decisions. I look forward to loving my dog and taking care of her, and living life!
*Not her real name. We allow each respondent to use a fictitious name for her profile, if she chooses.
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.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
A friend posted this article (you don’t need to read it) on Facebook about the huge environmental impact of using disposable diapers. Stats indicate that the average baby will use 6,500-10,000 diapers, and in the United States that translates to 7.6 billion pounds of nonbiodegradable garbage a year!
The point of the article is to encourage parents to use cloth diapers, and the photo below was included…
…and it got me thinking…shouldn’t there be a third display, the one representing childfree people that is sparkling clean and empty?
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Nine womb-less women in Sweden received transplants from relatives in hopes that they will be able to give birth to their own children.
Premise for a sci-fi blockbuster movie? Nope. True story. You can read the article here.
I read the article with mixed feelings. I felt so sad for the recipients, having a sense of what they’d been through to get to this point. I thought about the ethics and wondered if, maybe, their lack of wombs isn’t part of Nature’s plan for population control (yes, I know that’s not a nice thought, but it’s honest). I wondered who would put themselves through this crazy experimental procedure, then I thought about all of the women I know who would drink, inject, or believe anything in hopes of having their miracle babies. I wondered if I had been in their shoes, if I had the means and opportunity, would I have signed up?
Would you?
Maybe this will be the answer to so many women’s desires to have children, and I hope for the best possible outcome. At the same time, I fear what kind of new baby-making industry (and related scams) might result from success.
I hope women—and their partners—read the fine print and weigh the possible win with the possible side effects and risks: blood clots, high blood pressure, diabetes, some types of cancer, transplant rejection. I also found the closing line of the article chilling: “…there are no guarantees (that the women will have babies)…what is certain is that they are making a contribution to science.”
Both my husband and I had to have surgery in the last six months. We are lucky to be healthy, but I have to tell you, recovery was a bitch. Elective surgery? No way. Possibly sacrifice my health to contribute to science? Um, no. But to maybe have a baby? Maybe.
What do you think?
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Before I ran off on vacation last week, I posted a request for help with a survey I put together. Unfortunately, in my haste to get away, I neglected to check the link to see if it worked. My apologies to those of you who tried to click through.
The link is now fixed. Here is the original post explaining the survey (including the correct survey link), and here is a link directly to the survey.
I’d be so grateful if you could spare a few minutes (and honestly, it’s short) to give me some feedback on improving this site.
But for now, back to my vacation….
Last month I announced the Great Life Without Baby Makeover and asked, “If you wandered onto a site that was exactly what you’d been looking for, what would you find there?”
You responded with some great suggestions and I’m working to implement those ideas as best I can.
Several of you mentioned how much you enjoy the Guest Bloggers, how refreshing it is to hear new voices, and how reassured you feel by knowing you’re not the only person going through this mess.
Andrea suggested a new “You’re Not Alone” column, featuring readers’ “own stories of fall, personal suffering, and acceptance: of slowly getting back up.”
I love this idea, so I’m putting out a call right now.
“Tell us your stories!”
Here are some suggestions to start you thinking:
What do you wish you could tell people?
What was your darkest moment?
What turned things around for you?
What made a difference?
How did you start coming to terms?
How do you see your future?
What’s the silver lining you never could have imagined?
Your story doesn’t have to include all of these—or even any of these. I’m just using these as prompts to light a creative spark.
And if you’re thinking “I’m not a writer; I can’t do this” banish those thoughts right now. Storytelling is a basic human instinct. It’s how we learn and how we share information. Don’t overthink it; it’s in your bones. Just tell us; we’ll appreciate it because many of us will have lived it too.
So, put on your thinking caps and send me your stories. You can email them right to my inbox at: lisa [at] lifewithoutbaby [dot] com.
I can’t wait to hear from you.
~ "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."
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