Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

The Importance of Friends

Last Friday I attended a family funeral and, as is always the case, the occasion served to galvanize my own final wishes (which I hope won’t need to be carried out for a long time.)

From attending funerals over the years, I’ve decided I want no formal service conducted by someone who barely knew me, no family airing their grievances over my casket, and no rambling eulogies by people who are supposed to say nice things about me but can’t. I do know that it’s important that some sort of commemoration take place, preferably a party with good food, flowing wine, and funny stories, not for my benefit, but for the sake of the people left behind. I’ve learned from experience how important a ceremonial closure is for the bereaved.

The problem is, I don’t know who my bereaved will be. With a husband 15 years my senior, my family 6,000 miles away, and no children of my own, who’s going to make sure my final wishes are carried out? Who’s going to even care when I pop my clogs, shuffle off this mortal coil, and head for the great writer’s conference in the sky?

I think that the answer will be: my friends.

Watching my own mother bound towards her 80th year is both inspirational and educational. I compare her to others her age (and younger, frankly) and try to find the factors that make her so youthful. Exercise is number one, along with good diet, positive attitude, and mental toughness. But right up there is friendship. My mother has so many circles of friends—her athletic friends, her artistic friends, her church friends, long-time neighbors, and even friends she’s maintained from her very first job more than 60 years ago. When she’s hit dark patches in the past, it’s been her friends who have pulled her through. When her husband, my father, passed away almost 25 years ago, we children were dealing with our own loss and her friends were the ones that kept her moving forward and moving us forward. And I know that my friends will be there for me too, in time’s of need, and when my time runs out.

Having children comes with absolutely no guarantee that you’ll be taken care of in your last days; ask those residents in senior care facilities who sit and watch everyone elses families roll in and out every Sunday. Ensuring care in your old age and having someone to carry out your last wishes is not a good reason to have children, but it’s another great reason to have friends.

Top 10 Greatest Childless Women

A couple of week’s ago, Guest Blogger, Kathleen Guthrie prompted a discussion about how we find meaning in our lives when we don’t have children. A later conversation with her, followed by a comment posted by reader Jennifer, prompted today’s Top Ten.

I was amazed at the list I generated when I started looking for outstanding women who did not have children. Some of my favorites included Elizabeth I, Janis Joplin, Amelia Earhart, and Dian Fossey, all of whom made a significant impact on the world. And it’s hard to imagine Amelia strapping a baby seat into the co-pilot seat of her twin-engine plane, or Dian wrestling with a toddler while attempting to move in close to a family of mountain gorillas. And yet I doubt that they considered their lives meaningless because they were not mothers. The world certainly didn’t.

So, after much editing, I’ve compiled my own Top Ten list of great women who did not have children. There are a lot of amazing women missing, and the order is up for debate, but I’ve tried to include women from a variety of arenas. Please feel free to add your own favorites.

10. Marilyn Monroe

9. Ginger Rogers

8. Joan of Arc

7. Coco Chanel

6. Frida Kahlo

5.Jane Austen

4.Sally Ride

3. Rosa Parks

2. Julia Child

1. Oprah Winfrey

Today

Today, I wish you all a very pleasant and restful Sunday.

Last Chance to Win Flowers!

Time’s running out to qualify to win Flowers. Become a member of  life Without Baby now and be entered into a free drawing. Join here. The winner will be drawn tomorrow.

Good Luck!

The Double-Edged Freedom of Childlessness

I’m writing this post from the airport terminal in Los Angeles. This will be my third trip in as many weeks. My husband and I went to New York for a weekend to celebrate my 40th birthday earlier in the month; next his job called him to Northern California and I tagged along with my traveling office. Now a family emergency means that I need to go home to England for a couple of weeks, so off I go again.

The thing is, if I had children, I couldn’t be doing this. If I had school schedules and missed classes to deal with, or frankly even if I had to find the money for three round-trip tickets instead of just one, it wouldn’t be feasible. Being childless not only allows me the do the fun things without worry, it leaves me free to take care of the other things that are important to me, namely my family—my mother and husband.

There’s a downside to this freedom, too. Although my geographically undesirable location means I’m usually the last person to be called in for family help, some of my friends are given more than their share of the responsibility because of their childlessness. Quite often I think that the sibling without children is given the responsibility for organizing family gatherings or taking care of aging relatives.

What do you think? How does your childlessness affect your role in your family?

Whiny Wednesday

When I tell people about my decision to not have children, and tell them the story of how I got here, a common response I hear is: “Don’t give up hope; it could still happen.” They don’t seem to understand that my situation isn’t hopeless; I’ve made an intelligent and considered decision and “hope” is no longer involved.

Here’s the reality: I have bum ovaries that kick out half-baked eggs. I’m 40 years old and am therefore well into the danger zone for birth defects. My husband is almost 55, meaning he’ll be well into his 70’s before our miracle baby makes it into college. We wrestled with the pros and cons of continuing a quest to have children and we’ve made an informed decision to stop. This is now what is best for us. So, if you’re thinking that I’m just saying I don’t want kids, but I’m secretly hoping I’ll get knocked up, I’m not. Please give me credit for my decision and for being strong enough to tell you the truth.

Oh, and Happy Cinco de Mayo.

When Choice is Not an Option

Last night I performed at a spoken word show here in Santa Monica. I got up in front of about 100 total strangers and told the story of how my husband, Jose, and I came to make the decision to give up on having children, and be a happy family of two. As I’m sure you can imagine, it was a very intimate story and I think I told it frankly, maybe even matter-of-factly, but I aired our dirty laundry all the same.

My husband was in the  audience and, as he’d never heard or read the story before, I was a little worried about his reaction, but he was 100% supportive. After the show, a number of people came up to me and thanked me for sharing my story. A couple of women told me how they had related to the story because of their own experiences. It was very touching and encouraging to know that I had reached people.

But more than one person came up to me during the post-show reception and asked the inevitable question, some version of: “So are you guys still thinking of adopting?” I want you to know that I was the model of composure. I answered calmly and politely, that no, we weren’t, and that we were lucky to have the kind of relationship that many people never have, and that was enough for us.

But I guess some people just can’t take, “No,” for an answer. People want a Hollywood ending to their stories,  and for many, the idea of choosing not to have children is, dare I say it, inconceivable.

Still Time to Qualify to Win Flowers

There’s still time to qualify to win flowers in our Un-Mother’s Day drawing. All you have to do is be a member of Life Without Baby this coming Saturday, May 8th.

If you’re not yet a member you can join here.

Good Luck!

My Bah Humbug to Mother’s Day, But Not to Mother

Due to circumstances that give no cause for celebration, I will find myself away from home next Sunday, in a country that has already celebrated Mother’s Day, back in March. I’m very glad for the reprieve from the unavoidable Mother’s Day festivities here. Usually on that day I avoid restaurants that might be handing out flowers to all the mothers, and steer clear of stores festooned with gifts I might have liked, had I been a mother. Pretty much I avoid anywhere where I might be at risk of some unsuspecting person innocently wishing me “Happy Mother’s Day” and forcing me to again face the fact that I am not a mother.

But just because I don’t care to celebrate Mother’s Day as a kind of national holiday, doesn’t mean I don’t celebrate my mother on that day, or in my case, in March. I send her a homemade card (because it’s impossible to find a Mother’s Day card in U.S. stores in March), give her a gift that I’ll know she’ll appreciate more than flowers—new cycling gear, or something practical for her garden. If I could choose my mother again from a catalog of all mothers, I’d still pick the same model (maybe with an added “chocolate cake baking” feature), and I wouldn’t dream of not honoring her on Mother’s Day.

But I want to do it in my own way. I want to call her and wish her a happy Mother’s Day, as a private celebration between mother and daughter, and let my brothers celebrate her in their own way, too. To me, Mother’s Day has never been a universal holiday where everything stops to revolve around mothers. It shouldn’t be a day when complete strangers wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. But it is, and I so can’t help feeling like a famous, though unlikable, Dickensian character, when I think: “You keep Mother’s Day in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.”

Top 10 Reasons to Speak Up and Be Heard

10. Women without children are a growing percentage of the population

9. We are still misunderstood, even by our family and closest friends

8. Our opinion is a unique perspective that deserves to be heard

7. We need to show that the childless are not child-haters or parent-haters; we’ve just made an unconventional choice for reasons of our own

6. We might even start a revolution

5. The radicals are just beating their shields

4. People cannot walk a mile in our shoes, but we can tell them about our journeys

3. What we say may help another woman

2. Airing our opinions is therapeutic and can help reduce the risk of wrinkles

1. We all want to know that we’re not really alone.