Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Our Stories: Jen

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

When I wrote to thank Jen for sharing her story, I added one of the big things I’ve learned over the years is there are LWB women all over the world who have been suffering in silence and often shame. Then we read one of Our Stories and realize we’re not crazy, we’re not alone.

Jen understood completely. “I feel my story is taboo and isn’t talked about often,” she replied. “For years I looked for others who I could walk with in my journey,” she said. “A lot of times I don’t share what I am going through because people assume I can magically change my life for the better. I’ve heard ‘divorce and date, adopt, fool around,’ etc. I worked hard for a secure home, but just don’t feel it’s safe anymore.”

Finding LWB has helped her, and I am so grateful that we have this safe space where all our voices can be heard and supported.

Here’s Jen’s story. If you can relate to it, I hope you’ll offer her words of compassion and encouragement in the Comments.

 

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

Jen: Loving and mentoring my children. Listening when they need someone to care.

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Jen: Circumstance. My husband cheated while we attempted. During and since then, he has said I’m physically the reason why I will never have children.

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Jen: I work with teenagers during the school year, younger children during the summer. I have a gift working with kids, how to talk to them, listen to them, encourage them. All that, and I can’t have my own child.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Jen: Roller coaster of all the above. There are days when I’m at my best. Maybe it’s making my sister, her husband, and their toddler happy. Maybe it’s elementary school kids during the summer day camp saying they liked my choice in songs. Many teenagers at the high school where I work at call me their “campus mom”. It’s an honor I don’t take lightly.

Then there are days when I’m told I am inadequate to have a child. Maybe it’s because of a wrong decision I made, or more often I’m told with disgust that I’m overweight (size 12–14) with a family history of diabetes.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Jen: A couple years ago I came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be best (maybe closer to worse) for my child to have my husband as a father, and it was best to give away any baby items I had in the house. I had to give up or be brought further into depression.

LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)? What about her inspires you?

Jen: A coworker of mine is childless due to cancer (now in remission). She believes in God and she knows her gift is to mentor kids. She has perfected listening to teenagers, and giving them advice and encouragement so they can make better decisions. These teenagers know they have someone who cares. [My coworker has helped me] realize I have that same gift with kids of different ages that I work with throughout the year. I remind them of their value and how important they are.

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Jen: Politely say “No,” and if they ask why, come up with a reason appropriate for the audience. They mean well, so it isn’t right to take my frustration out on them.

 

How do you answer “Do you have kids?” Are you sarcastic or flippant? Does the word “No” tumble out with ease, or do you dissolve into a puddle of tears? Has your answer evolved? We’d love to hear about your journey, wherever you are on your path toward acceptance, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story. The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.

 

Letting Go of the Life You Wanted

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy, for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves;

we must die to one life before we can enter another.”

~ Anatole France

I saw this quote in a book about writing, but it struck a chord with me. It relates to so many things in life, including making peace with a life with out children.

One of the hardest stretches of my journey was the space between realizing that our options for building a family were running out, and the point where we made the decision to stop trying. I knew there were options still open, but they were beyond the scope of what Mr. Fab and I were willing to do. At some point we had to make a decision that we would not have children and that we would find a way to be okay with that. It was one of the hardest (and perhaps longest) decisions I’ve ever had to make.

I’m sure you’ve found yourself in this kind of situation in other areas of life, too. You know that you have to take a new direction, that ultimately it will be the right decision, but as France says, in order to do that, we have to leave a part of ourselves behind. Sometime the hardest part is listening to ourselves and not being afraid to make the wrong choice.

My first career was in engineering. I’ve made several career changes since then, trying to find the place in the world where I’d be happy. I’ve found it in writing, but it took me a long time to get here.

Many people can’t understand why, after all those years of college and graduate school, I would abandon a perfectly good and respectable career. I’ll be the first to admit that if I’d just stuck to engineering, I would probably have been more “successful” and definitely would be making more money, maybe own a home and live comfortably, but I know I wouldn’t have been happy. I might have been successful by the conventional definition, but the cost of sticking to a career that didn’t make me happy, just because it’s what was expected of me, didn’t make any sense. But it wasn’t easy to let go of that life and take a risk of finding happiness in another life.

Part of finding happiness is letting go of that which doesn’t make us happy. Although I believed that having children would make me happy, I was miserably unhappy running in circles trying to produce a baby that my body had no interest in creating. I could have gone on trying forever, but the cost to my mental and physical wellbeing would have been enormous. Letting go of that part of my life enabled me to find peace with my new life, even if it’s a life I wasn’t sure I wanted.

 

It Got Me Thinking…About Going For It

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

When I was 43, I trained for and completed my first triathlon. A good friend earned her black belt at 47. A gal I know picked up a paintbrush for the first time after retiring from a decades-long career and became a successful landscape artist in her 70s. Another brave friend and her classmates, representing several decades, showed a gathering of a few hundred guests how real women (with curves) dance traditional hula.

I think our youth-obsessed society is under the misconception that courage is the domain of people under 30. They party, they experiment, they go on reality TV shows. But I disagree. I think real daring rears its beautiful head around the age of 39. I see it in so many of my friends, as they finally pursue long-held dreams or take new risks, whether it be diving out of a plane or going back to school and changing careers. I think it’s a combination of finally letting go of caring what other people think about us, along with renewed desire to try new things and a dash of fatalism—life is too short, let’s do this now!

I also believe we childfree women have a huge advantage. We don’t have to worry about what will happen to the kids if we end up in a cast and pretty much useless for 6 weeks. We don’t worry about embarrassing our teenagers. We have time on our hands and money not earmarked for someone else’s college education.

If you’re looking for inspiration, read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love or Julia Child’s My Life in France, both memoirs of childfree women who took big chances and dramatically reinvented their lives while their peers were shopping for strollers. Or watch Under the Tuscan Sun, Julie & Julia (based in part on Child’s book), or Last Holiday starring Queen Latifah for more stories about childfree women who dedicate their free time and passion to creating beautiful homes, beautiful foods, and beautiful lives.

Get creative, follow your bliss, explore what makes you curious, discover the blessings of a childfree life. This week, I have three words for you: Go For It!

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with her childfree life. Recently she’s been keeping her eyes and heart open to new experiences that might lead to a fulfilling Plan B. For starters, she’s learning how to run longer distances (and actually enjoy it) and grow edible plants (that actually taste good).

How Time Moves Differently When You Don’t Have Children

By Lisa Manterfield

I do hope this isn’t simply a factor of aging, but lately I seem to have lost my ability to keep track of time. I was always so good at remembering things like how many years ago we visited such-and-such a place, or where we spent Christmas four years ago. But the last several years of my life have suddenly blurred into one big event. I can no longer accurately mark time.

Over lunch with a friend recently, we talked about her daughter and both expressed shock that she is already 16. How the years fly! We talked about another friend who has since moved away and how vividly we remember going to see her new baby so many years ago. I realized that I have no idea how old this little boy is now. I guessed he was probably somewhere around 10 or 12, but my friend knew exactly. “He’s two years younger than my daughter. He’ll be 14 in March.” I felt guilty that I didn’t remember that.

Walking home after lunch, it dawned on me that my time amnesia might have a lot to do with not having children. My friend is reminded on a daily basis of how old her children are. She marks the passing of time with birthday parties, school grades, and childhood milestones. She knows how long ago something happened, because she knows how old her kids were, or what grade they were in at the time. She knows how old our friend’s son is because she remembers where she was on her motherhood path when our friend was pregnant. I don’t have that marker and so I have to try to fill in the gaps with other events, or news headlines to mark time in my memory. But unless something significant happened, I don’t have those milestones to grasp onto.

Without children to mark time and propel my life forward, I can see how easy it could be to drift through the years. Children create milestones and new direction and, while I’m not in any danger of falling into a rut yet, I can see how easily my life could lose direction.

Maybe I’ve just hit by a patch of melancholy again, so does anyone else see this? Do any of you feel as if your life is drifting by?

My Perfect Imperfect Life

By Lisa Manterfield

Courtesy Hasbro Games

Courtesy Hasbro Games

In my weekly writer’s group, we start off with an exercise from a choice of prompts. When I saw “I’m tired of pretending my life isn’t perfect”, I almost took the prompt.

It’s not hard to write about the part of my life that is so obviously imperfect: the fact that I wasn’t able to have children. I could (and do) write about that broken bit. But if I took my life apart, I’d find lots of areas that aren’t perfect. Isn’t every life like that? Everyone has challenges, and life would probably be dull without them. But part of the thrill of living is overcoming life’s challenges. Without the obstacles there’s no glory of victory.

My life is flawed in many ways, as all lives are, but it’s also a good and happy life, and on the whole it’s pretty close to perfect. And it’s hard work to keep clinging to the idea that it isn’t. It’s tiring to keep feeling bad about the parts of my life that didn’t work out as planned.

I didn’t get to have children, and it’s true that, for a long period of time, it made my life feel empty and deeply flawed. But that changed over time. I worked to overcome that flaw, to seek and take advantage of the silver linings, to work through my sadness—by writing, in my case—by gathering this community and sharing our stories. My marriage made it through infertility. That’s a victory in itself. And while there are still many challenges in my life, few of them are related to my childlessness anymore.

So, yes, I am a flawed human, with challenges to face, but I no longer wish to pretend my life isn’t perfect, just as it is, warts and all.

If you’re in the mood to do some writing of your own, pull out your journal and take the prompt: I’m tired of pretending my life isn’t perfect.

(And by the way, I didn’t take the prompt because there was another that sparked an idea. I’m glad I took that one instead, because that exercise turned into short story that was published here.)

Rules to Live By

By Lisa Manterfield

I came across a copy of Whole Living magazine lately. I found the articles interesting and it’s one of the few women’s magazines I’ve found that isn’t focused on children. Refreshing.

What’s also refreshing is that, along with their Mission Statement, they also post their Ten Tenets of Whole Living. You can read them here:

These are a couple of personal favorites:

#1 Happiness is a choice. Make that choice today and every day.

I’ve spent a good chunk of the past few years feeling sorry for myself because I can’t have children. But I’ve come to appreciate the life I am able to have because of my childlessness. I’m pretty happy with this life and, if the opportunity presented itself to become a mother, I am no longer sure I would take it.

#5 Laugh at yourself. You’re funny.

Never a truer word spoken. It’s so easy to take yourself oh so seriously, but really life is pretty ridiculous. Case in point: I married a man who couldn’t have children. We spent five years trying to fix that, only to discover that I was infertile. Not funny at the time, but the irony isn’t lost on me now.

#9 It’s never too late to take the first step toward your aspirations.

When she was in her 60’s, my mum graduated with a bachelor’s degree in science and learned to drive. Anyone who tells you you’re too old to follow your dreams deserves a poke in the eye.

What are some of your tenets, rules that you choose to live by?

My Perfect Imperfect Life

By Lisa Manterfield

Courtesy Hasbro Games

Courtesy Hasbro Games

I’ve been taking a fantastic creative writing class at UCLA Extension. Each week, we start off with a writing exercise from a choice of prompts, and last week, one of the prompts was, “I’m tired of pretending my life isn’t perfect.” I almost took the prompt.

It’s not hard to write about the part of my life that is so obviously imperfect: the fact that I wasn’t able to have children. I could (and do) write about that broken bit. But if I took my life apart, I’d find lots of areas that aren’t perfect. Isn’t every life like that? Everyone has challenges, and life would probably be dull without them. But part of the thrill of living is overcoming life’s challenges. Without the obstacles there’s no glory of victory.

My life is flawed in many ways, as all lives are, but it’s also a good and happy life, and on the whole it’s pretty close to perfect. And it’s hard work to keep clinging to the idea that it isn’t. It’s tiring to keep feeling bad about the parts of my life that didn’t work out as planned.

I didn’t get to have children, and it’s true that, for a long period of time, it made my life feel empty and deeply flawed. But that changed over time. I worked to overcome that flaw, to seek and take advantage of the silver linings, to work through my sadness—by writing, in my case—by gathering this community and sharing our stories. My marriage made it through infertility. That’s a victory in itself. And while there are still many challenges in my life, few of them are related to my childlessness anymore.

So, yes, I am a flawed human, with challenges to face, but I no longer wish to pretend my life isn’t perfect, just as it is, warts and all.

(And by the way, I didn’t take the prompt because there was another that sparked an idea. I’m glad I took that one instead, because that exercise turned into short story instead.)

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayBitter. Desperate. Pathetic, sad, and lonely. That’s Hollywood’s typical childfree woman.

But don’t worry, in the end she’ll get her man and, of course, she’ll get her baby.

This week’s topic:

The way the media portrays childless women

Happy whining, my friends!

Marking Anniversaries…The Happy and the Sad

By Lisa Manterfield

LWBlogo_color_compact
March is a funny old month for me. It’s filled with all kinds of anniversaries, both happy and sad.

March is the month I lost my dad (sad) and, later, my stepdad (also sad).

March is also the month I married Mr. Fab (happy). We celebrate 11 years this year (very happy).

March is the month Mr. Fab’s granddaughter was born (happy and sad) and quickly became the month we decided to stop the quest for a child of our own (very, very sad).

It’s also the month I wrote my very first post on this blog (sad at the time, but very happy now).

So you can see, checking off the days on the March calendar can be a bit of an emotional ride.

What I notice, though, is that with each passing year, I’m less sad about the sad anniversaries and more happy about the happy ones. Even though “time heals all wounds” can ring hollow in a time of sadness, I’ve come to learn that it’s actually true.

Five years ago, when I wrote my first post, I couldn’t imagine that life could be happy without children. Oh sure, I knew I’d “get over it” eventually, but I never expected to move beyond the sadness.

What I’ve learned from all my sad anniversaries is that the sadness gets smaller every year, just a little at first, sometimes so little that you barely notice, until one day you can talk about the thing you’ve lost without choking on the sadness.

The sadness doesn’t completely go away, but most days it’s so small I barely notice it.

 

What’s next?

Anniversaries of all kinds are a good time to step back, reevaluate, and look back at how far we’ve come.

When I look back at some of my early posts on this blog, I see a woman who was angry and lost, but also skirting the deeper emotional truths about what she was going through. And she was still hiding in shame.

Later, I found a way to write more openly about how I felt, and eventually I was able to gain insight into the effects of my loss and how I might have better handled my grief.

These days, I’ll admit that I don’t have much new to say. I’m still learning, of course, but much I’ve what I’ve learned on my journey has been channeled into the ebook series, which I hope will continue to help other women stepping onto this path.

Those of you who’ve been long-time readers (and thank you for your support over the years) will no doubt understand how something that once consumed every waking moment can become something you think about only once in a while.

I also know that new readers are experiencing this for the first time, and I want to maintain this community, because I know it’s one of the few places to find true support and to be able to voice what our friends and family often don’t understand.

Over the coming year, I plan to rerun some of the more helpful posts from the past five years, as well as new ones as they come up. There’ll be posts from Kathleen and me, and of course, I wouldn’t dare take away Whiny Wednesday. If you’ve been a reader for a while, it’s a good way to see how far you’ve come over the years. If you’re a new reader, I hope you’ll find these posts resonate with you.

And what will I be doing with all my spare time if I’m not writing new posts? I’ll be working on the final book in the series, due out in June. I’m also working like crazy on a new novel that I hope to be able to tell you more about soon.

 

And there are presents!

As this is a celebration, of course there are presents. Several people have asked me if the ebook series will be available in format other than for e-readers. The ultimate goal is to put all four ebooks together as a print book later this year, but in the meantime, I’ve created downloadable PDFs of the books.

In honor of our five years together, you can grab yourself a free copy of the first book in the series. It will be available until the end of March, and can you get your copy by using this special link.

Get your free ebook

The other two books are also now available in this format here:

Workbook 2: Getting Through the Grief of Childlessness

Workbook 3: Dealing With the Day-to-Day Challenges

Workbook 4: Thriving in a New Happily Ever After (Out June 2014. Available for pre-order)

So, all that’s left is to say thank you for your ongoing support, for showing up here and reminding me that I’m not alone, and for continuing to support and help one another on this journey. I’m very honored to share this space with you.

~Lisa

It Got Me Thinking…About World Travelers

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTSo often when we talk about the benefits of being childfree, people bring up traveling. “You’re so lucky you don’t have the responsibilities of having to raise kids, so you can travel anytime.” “You’re so lucky you don’t have to pay for private school and sports and music lessons, so you have all that extra money to travel.”

Well, yes, and not really. While it’s true that my husband and I can take advantage of the off-seasons (vs. visiting the sites with the crowds of families who are off during school holidays), we are both committed to our careers. Taking time off isn’t a sure thing when we need to meet commitments to clients and colleagues. Also, we aren’t super-rich. We live a modest life, certainly one with many advantages, but if we had kids, we wouldn’t be spending our spare cash, we’d probably just have more debt.

That being said, if we really wanted to travel—or pursue any big dream—we could make it work. It’s just the two of us, and if we decided to chuck everything, buy a couple of backpacks, and hit the road, we could.

I’ve been inspired by a series of articles I stumbled upon on the BBC’s website, under the heading of “How I Quit My Job to Travel.” This article is written by a married couple who has been traveling together for eight years, and this article is by a single gal who ditched her “great job” in a “good career” to embark on her adventures. In each, they share the choices, compromises, and opportunities they embraced to turn their dreams into real life.

As I continue to wrestle with what I lost by not getting to be a mommy, I am nudging myself to seek what I might gain. Articles like the ones linked above offer encouragement and creative ideas on how we can open new avenues for ourselves, whether that’s learning a new skill, acquiring season tickets to the opera, building stronger connections in the community, or traveling to exotic locales.

What do you dream about? Can you take one small step today toward making it happen?

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.