Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Excuses

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

At 10 pm I was at my computer, reviewing my presentation for an early morning meeting, when an e-mail from the client came through. He had forgotten about an event at his kid’s school and needed to reschedule. Seriously?!

Now, I never want to disappoint a child and think parents should support as many events as possible. However. Four other people had cleared their schedules to be at this meeting. We all made sacrifices, both personal and professional, to be in attendance. I’d been prepping for days, and I’d turned down other work to get started on the project (lost money for a freelancer). Had I been in bed instead of in my office that night, I would not have seen the last-minute e-mail and would have shown up at the meeting location as scheduled, thus losing another day of work. What pissed me off the most was this guy never even apologized for inconveniencing the rest of us, he just requested that we  “reschedule as soon as possible.”

It got me thinking about all the times I’ve heard parents use their kids as excuses:

  • I can’t work late tonight/this weekend/over the holiday because of the kids. (Which leaves me, the childfree person, to pick up the slack.)
  • I missed the deadline/didn’t finish the name tags/couldn’t bake the cupcakes I promised because my kid kept me awake last night. (So now I have to scramble to get it done and cover your butt at the eleventh hour?)
  • I have to leave early (and leave all the extra work with you) to pick up my kid/go to my kid’s soccer game/get groceries for the kids’ dinner. (I have a life too, dangnabbit!)
  • I’m late because of my kid.
  • I’m tired because of my kid.
  • I’m cranky because of my kid.

I get it. Being a parent is exhausting, time-consuming, and crazy work. But I want to say to the people who overuse this excuse: SUCK IT UP! You chose this life, so take responsibility for your responsibilities. Either that or be ready to accept without complaint my excuse that “I just don’t feel like covering for you this weekend because you missed the deadline and it’s made me cranky.”

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She desperately needs a vacation, preferably one involving sunny beaches and fruity cocktails.

Decluttering Baby Stuff

releaseIn her blog Baptism By Fire, Wolfers wrote a wonderful post about our emotional attachment to clutter, and how she wasn’t yet ready to let go of her baby-related items.

It’s been a couple of years already since I reached the point of being ready to let go of my baby clutter, so I was surprised by the emotions that stirred up when I read her post.

As I never actually became pregnant, I accumulated only a few baby items. It took me several years before I had the courage to say goodbye to them, but when I did let them go, it was sad, but not difficult. I was ready.

The things that brought on the strongest wave of emotions were all the books I’d bought over the years as I’d tried to uncover the magic formula to my fertility. I had books on Chinese medicine, diet, mindfulness, you name it, and I can remember feeling so angry when I put them in the donation box. I felt as if I’d been taken for a ride by these authors who had promised me a miracle. I felt duped and cheated—and really, really mad.

They’re out of my life now and largely out of my mind, but even though they’re gone, they’ve still left a mark where they used to be. And sometimes that mark gets sore again.

What have you held onto and what have you been able to let go?

Fruit of the Tree

OrangenBy Amelia Ricardo

Several years ago, I began researching my family history. I began the process for the same reason many of us do: Curiosity. I was curious about genealogy because I wanted to prepare a proper history to pass down to my own children. The more I began researching and the bigger my family tree grew, the more excited I became about what I was learning, and how proud I would be to one day pass down my findings to my children.

Except I’m not going to have any child to receive this information.

A few months ago my husband and I came to the realization that parenthood isn’t going to happen for us. Financial woes and health issues have choked out a chance to continue the family tree, to bear new fruit.

Over the years, as I did my genealogical research, I always tried to expand the tree’s limbs and branches as far back as possible. No matter how distant the relative, I always believed that every branch mattered, and therefore every fruit from them also mattered. How disappointed I was when no children were had by an ancestor, and that his or her branch did not continue.

I’m going to be one of those dead-end branches. In decades to come, will the branch of my husband and me be overlooked? Will we be non-important because we didn’t produce any fruit?

Yes, I grieve for not being able to buy baby clothes, for not being able to comfort a crying child, and the other gazillion reasons.  But what I seem to mourn the most is not being able to be a growing part of my family tree. I grieve for being a branch that doesn’t extend. I grieve that the stories I’ve collected and the heritage of which I’m fiercely proud will not be shared with my own children. I’m still struggling with this realization.

A few weeks ago as I pondered this realization, I thought of my great-aunt Annie who died single and childless. Almost 50 years after her death, she’s still remembered fondly by all in my family, remembered for her courage, altruism, and strength. And among all of her 13 siblings, she is probably the most memorable. Was it being single and childless that helped mold her into this individual and leave such an indelible legacy on our family?  I don’t know.

Some of history’s most influential women never had children. Florence Nightingale, Susan B. Anthony, Emily Dickinson, Jane Austen, and Julia Child are just a few. Their branches of the family tree did not bear fruit. Yet they still managed to influence countless others—including those who are of no relation. They are important limbs in a larger tree, and their fruits are in forms other than offspring. Their fruits are their writings, their culinary artistry, their caring for the sick, and their advocacy of women’s rights.

Does this realization erase all the sadness I have? No. But perhaps it’s worth reminding myself that not all-important branches must bear fruit.

Amelia Ricardo lives with her husband in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. As she tries to accept a life without baby, she keeps herself busy with freelance writing, blogging, and many other projects. She blogs about her unabashed Olympic obsession at OlympicFanatic.com.  

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Everything Happens for a Reason

My friend has been very sick recently. She is single, doesn’t have children, and her family lives in another state, so when she told me what was going on, I offered to go with her to her doctor’s appointments and help her out while she recovers from surgery.

One of the reasons I’m able to be there for her is that I don’t have children (the other is that I work for myself, so I can easily move my schedule around.) If I had children to care for, there’s no way I would have been able to sit in on her appointments or even just hang out with her and keep her company.

It’s also not lost on me that I am one husband and one diagnosis away from being in her position. As, statistically, I should outlive Mr. Fab, there’s a very real possibility that I could someday find myself in her shoes. And frankly, it’s scaring the crap out of me.

I’ve been pretty cavalier so far about what will happen to me in the future and who will be there for me when I’m old or if I get sick. Mr. Fab is a rotten nurse as a rule, but I know that if ever I were really sick, he’d be there for me. But if he’s not around, then who will be?

I now know from experience that there’s only so much a friend can do and I know that my friend has still spent much of the last few weeks dealing with her illness alone. Truly it’s a horrible thought.

But before I drag you down into a pit of despair, take heart. Something is going on with me that I cannot yet explain. Although I’m generally quick to dismiss the “everything happens for a reason” school of thought, I have a very strong and inexplicable feeling that something positive will come out of this experience with my friend.  Maybe I have something to learn from her or maybe she’s casting a light on something I need to consider. Maybe her journey will show me the solution to my own fear.

I’m sorry to be so vague and mysterious, but I don’t yet have any explanation for my odd feeling. But something is coming, and when it does, you can bet I’ll be sharing it with you here.

Announcing the Official Release of My New Book

I am very excited indeed to announce the official release of my new book I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood.

It’s currently available in e-book format from Smashwords.com and Amazon.com, and next month it will also be available in the good old-fashioned printed version. You can be sure I’ll let you know when that happens.

If you’re an e-reader type or just can’t wait for the printed version, I’m offering the book at a special price for Life Without Baby readers. Download the book from Smashwords and use the code FB35D to get it half price – $4.95 instead of $9.95.

If you do read it, and love it, please tell everyone. If you read and don’t love it, please just tell me.

We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow, but for today, it’s all about the book.