Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Pity vs Empathy

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I was in a really good place. That particular day, I had been feeling optimistic about my future, about my Plan B, about my life without babies. Then someone asked me “Do you have kids?”, and I said “No,” and I got The Pity Face.

You know what I’m talking about. That look that says, “Oh you poor, pathetic loser of a lesser human.” And it really pissed me off.

Certainly I want people to understand my pain and losses, and I want to feel supported, but not at the cost of condensation and humiliation. So when I received a note from LWBer Jane about the difference between sympathy and empathy, it struck a deep chord.

“I was surprised to read the real difference and found it helped me understand why I became isolated and distanced from friends and family,” she wrote. She shared with me this powerful article, “Sympathy and Empathy—Do You Know the Difference?” on Harley Therapy’s Counselling Blog.

The authors look at historical meanings as well as contemporary usage. I hope you’ll take the time to read it through. For now, I’ll summarize it with “empathy is empowering.”

Although intended to be compassionate, “sympathy too often comes in its lower form—thinly disguised as pity,” says the authors. “Empathy, on the other hand, involves trying with great sincerity to understand what the other person is going through.”

That sounds like what I want. I don’t yet know how to ask for it, or how to educate people on this (without coming across as a crazy woman), but what I can do is practice it. (There are tips in the article.) For there is a possible hidden gift for offering empathy, for really listening to another person who is going through a tough time, says the authors. “We…might even end up being in awe of their personal strength.”

 

You Are Not Alone

   We read to know we are not alone.

~ C.S. Lewis

Most of us live in countries where we enjoy freedom of speech and if we choose to talk about infertility, or childlessness, we can. The problem is that for many us, these are still taboo subjects and not suitable for cocktail party conversation. I know that many of you haven’t spoken about your situation beyond your very closest family members and most trusted friends. It’s scary when you don’t know how people will respond.

When I first began this blog, I was uncomfortable talking openly about infertility and living without children. I was afraid of being attacked or being controversial, and honestly, of getting my delicate feelings hurt.

But, in writing about this subject, I’ve discovered that, even when I thought I was the only person who felt a certain way, I seldom was. I also learned that there is nothing more comforting than hearing (or reading) the words, “Me too,” from someone who truly understands how you feel.

Every Thursday, some wonderful guest bloggers have shared their points of view, written about their experiences, and given us the chance to say, “Me too!” Now I invite you to put your thoughts into words. What are the issues you face? What’s helped you on your journey? What’s been good? What’s been unbearable? What have you learned about yourself on the way?

Odds are if something is important to you, it will be important to someone who reads it, too.

You can send your submissions through this form, or email me directly at editor [at] lifewithoutbaby [dot] com.

If you need some inspiration, check out some of the recent guest posts.

Walk a Mile in my Shoes

I never thought I’d be sitting here defending the Duggars, but here I am.

I realize this is old news, but I keep thinking about the photo that circulated of their miscarried baby. When I first heard about it, I rolled my eyes. That’s my standard response to any news I hear about them. But then I though about it more, and you know what? I get it.

People who’ve never dealt with infertility, loss of a child, or even loss of a dream of motherhood, don’t understand that you never know how you’re going to react to a situation until you’re standing there.

You think you’d never use extreme fertility treatments…until someone tells you it’s the only option left to you. You think you’re a level headed person, who would never become obsessed with motherhood…until you’ve tried month after month after month and no one can tell you why you can’t get pregnant. And you think you’d never take a photo of a miscarried or stillborn baby…until it happens to your child.

There are people who think I’m crazy for the way I became obsessed about having a baby. There are people who say, “why don’t you just adopt?” to anyone who can’t have children of their own. And there are people who are appalled and condemn a woman who treats a miscarried child as if that child had lived.

To those people I say, “Walk a mile in those shoes.” Because you don’t know how you’ll react until it happens to you.

Empathy With a Killer

I read this very disturbing story in yesterday’s LA Times. Former Food Network Chef, Juan-Carlos Cruz was recently sentenced to nine years in state prison after being convicted of paying a homeless man $1,000 to murder Cruz’s wife. The details in the newspaper of how Cruz suggested the man strangle his victim to avoid “a mess,” and how he provided doggie treats to keep his dogs from barking, are truly sickening. Regardless I read on, wondering what possible motivation there could be for this heinous crime.

A few more paragraphs in, I found his motivation: infertility.

According to the article:

Cruz told detectives when he was arrested that his wife had been “going through a midlife crisis” after unsuccessfully trying fertility treatments for more than a decade, according to the report. The couple spent more than $200,000 on fertility treatments and Cruz said he believed that killing his wife was “a ‘merciful’ way to end her suffering.”

The article continues:

Cruz, who told detectives he had considered taking his own life, said that Mother’s Day was especially painful for his wife and that he could not bear seeing her. When investigators asked Cruz when he began looking for someone to kill his wife, he told them that he had been looking for several weeks and wanted the task completed by Mother’s Day.

And this is the point where I actually felt sorry for the guy who plotted to kill his wife.

We all know (especially those of us who are childless-not-by-choice—just how hard Mother’s Day can be. I could picture this poor woman, already at the end of her rope, facing another Mother’s Day without children of her own. And I could picture her husband, at a total loss as to how to help her get through this. I can see the expression on his face, because I’ve seen that same look on my husband’s face when facing another infertility land mine and being powerless to do anything about it. Maybe murder was the only proactive thing that Cruz could come up with to help his wife.

Granted (as far as I know) my husband never conspired to have me bumped off, and I’m not condoning Cruz’s decision, but I can empathize with his motivation, even if I can’t understand, or forgive, his actions.