Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About It’s Never Too Late—Really!

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTAmong my darker days are those when I’ve wallowed in the belief that I’ve wasted my life. I spent my childhood, my teenage and college years, and the decades leading to my 40s dreaming about and preparing to be a mommy.

Joke’s on me, right?

Sure, I’ve had some fun adventures along the way, had some big career wins, made amazing friends, but I can’t help but think about what I might have done with those youthful years if I’d known in advance I wasn’t going to have children. I might have taken more risks (trained as a racecar driver), made bolder choices (I could have lived in New York—or Provence!), pursued different interests (culinary school, Taiko drumming, raising and curing my own olives).

As I continue to grow older (fortunately) and gain more perspective, I’m seeing that most of those opportunities are still open to me. And when I feel discouraged, I’m finding a lot of encouragement in the world around me.

Specifically, let me introduce you to Ms. Willie Murphy. In 2010, she started lifting weights for the first time in her life, beginning with five-pound dumbbells. In 2014, she was named 2014 Lifter of the Year by the World Natural Powerlifting Federation when she deadlifted 215 pounds. Did I mention she was 77-years-old at the time? (Watch an interview with her and see her lift here.)

video still credit: Lauren Petracca

video still credit: Lauren Petracca

And even though the world, especially the fashion world, seems youth-obsessed, take a look at the face of French fashion brand Céline’s 2015 spring campaign: writer Joan Didion, looking oh-so-stylish at 80!

photo credit: Céline Spring 2015 Campaign

photo credit: Céline Spring 2015 Campaign

“I never used the words ‘I can’t’,” Murphy says. “I would just simply say, ‘I will try.’” And those, my dear sisters, are words to live by.

 

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

Stuck in a Grief Loop

By Lisa Manterfield

Photo Credit: "Rollercoaster" Stevie Gill

Photo Credit: “Rollercoaster” Stevie Gill

Today is Groundhog Day here in the U.S., that monumental day when Punxsutawney Phil comes out of his burrow, looks for his shadow, and thereby predicts whether spring will come early or if six more weeks of winter weather can be expected. It’s all good clean fun and not to be taken too seriously (although Phil is fairly accurate), and I’ll admit to getting a certain thrill out of the festivities and silliness.

In the movie Groundhog Day, Bill Murray plays a weatherman stuck covering the low level news of Phil’s forecasting. Desperate to get out of the town, he finds himself stuck in a time loop, waking up day after day, reliving the same series of events over and over again, each time growing more and more frustrated.

I can remember feeling this way about grief. I recall waking up every morning thinking, “Oh no, not this again” and wondering why I should even bother getting out of bed when there was nothing worth getting out of bed for.

The thing I learned about grief is that, if you don’t get out of bed, you get stuck in that loop of feeling like life isn’t worth the effort. You can talk yourself into believing that life without children is no life at all, that you’re not complete unless you’re a mother—all those things we hear out in the world that we can start to tell ourselves.

It’s not helpful to ignore grief, to pretend it’s not real and that “everything’s okay, honestly” when it’s not. But you also have to beware of getting stuck in an endless loop of sadness. If you’re feeling that way, here are some ideas to get unstuck:

  • Get out of bed
  • Find support, whether that’s from your spouse, a trusted friend, an online community like this, or a therapist
  • Don’t deny your loss and grief, but don’t allow it to swallow you whole
  • Look for the positive things in your life and point yourself in that direction. Do you have a job that you love, hobbies that bring you joy, or other life goals you can work towards?

If you’ve found yourself stuck in this kind of grief loop, how have you found a way to break the cycle? If you’re feeling stuck right now, what could you do to make a change so you don’t have to endure another six weeks of winter gloom?

It Got Me Thinking…About Procedures

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTI got cornered recently at a party by a woman who told me her husband was giving her breast implants and a tummy tuck as a thank you for having his children. My thoughts ran in this order:

  • This woman has no concept of what “oversharing” means.
  • This man is a genius! He’s given himself the gift of perky breasts while managing to convince his wife that it’s a gift for her. Well played, sir, well played!
  • Wait a minute…she gets babies and new breasts?! That is so unfair!

That last item got me thinking about some of the procedures I think I’ve earned for surviving this whole journey through childlessness-not-by-choice, such as:

  •  Under-eye bleaching – to remedy the dark circles I got from epic bouts of crying.
  • Hair transplant – forget covering the gray, I’d like to replace it with, oh, hair like Blake Lively’s.
  • Butt lift – hours of sitting around feeling sorry for myself has turned my derrière to mush. I could go to the gym, but I don’t wanna.
  • Tummy fat suctioning – emotional eating? Check. I could go to the gym, but see that last bullet.

I realize all of the above could be “fixed” with a simple ol’ fashioned attitude adjustment. I’ll get around to that, eventually, but today it’s way more fun to imagine the procedures—quick, painless, and free, of course—that will whip me back into shape.

Wanna play? What imaginary procedures do you think you’ve earned? Go crazy and have fun!

 

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

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayI know I’m probably going to have to duck for cover with this week’s topic. We’ve all heard it and the sting never seems to diminish. So here we go:

“You wouldn’t understand; you don’t have kids.”

I’ll be behind the couch if you need me.

Navigating Workplace Challenges

By Lisa Manterfield
Young Businesswoman Standing with Two Young Business ExecutivesDuring my years of trying to conceive, I worked in the corporate world. I managed a department of about eight people. When I first took the position, only one member of my staff had children. By the end of two years, only two of us remained childless. I had three pregnant women in my department at one point, and every new announcement was followed by “It’s your turn next.” Of course, my turn never came.

There are so many challenges in the workplace when you don’t have children. There are cubicles festooned with photos of children, lunch groups dominated by kid talk, and family-oriented company picnics. There’s also the challenge of some parents using their parental responsibilities as an excuse to bend the rules and not pull their weight. And, of course, there are the inevitable pregnancy announcements and subsequent baby showers.

What are some of the workplace challenges you face and how have you found ways to navigate them?

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayMr. Fab and I got rid of our TV when we first moved in together and—apart from on a handful of occasions—we haven’t missed it at all.

One of the things I definitely don’t miss is the topic of this week’s Whiny Wednesday:

Kid-centric advertising

I’m sure you know what I mean—those ads selling products you might actually use, but which start out with lines like, “We know your family is important to you that’s why you use [fill in the blank product].”

It’s Whiny Wednesday and open season for any topic that’s on your mind.

Looking for Potential

By Lisa Manterfield

Failed TestLily sent me a wonderful blog post that I wanted to share with you as we go into the New Year. It begins with this quote:

“We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives… not looking for flaws, but for potential.”

~Ellen Goodman

I really relate to this quote because, in the past, this is exactly how I’ve approached the New Year. I’ve gone room-to-room looking for all the things wrong with me and resolving to fix them in the New Year. Come year-end, I’d look at my goals for the previous January and inevitably find that I’d fallen short, let myself down yet again. So, I’d resolve to do better the next year, to make it the year I improved myself.

I’m not sure whether it’s facing the reality of infertility that’s made me realize there are things about me that just cannot be fixed, or if I’ve just reached an age where I’ve decided to be kinder to myself. Whichever it is, I’ve adopted a new philosophy about New Year’s resolutions.

I no longer resolve to fix my flaws. I’m not going to aim to lose weight or organize my house or try to be more stylish. Nor am I going to compare myself to others—especially women with children—and find myself falling short. I am who I am and, even though I’m far from perfect, I don’t need to be fixed.

Instead I’m looking for ways to tap my potential and be the best version of me I can be. Instead of resolving to be who I’m not, I will try to nurture the best of who I am. I will set goals that point me in the direction I’d like my life to go and not worry about whether the “me” that arrives there is perfect.

As you head into the New Year, will you be making resolutions or setting goals? If so, are you being kind to yourself or are you treating yourself like something that’s broken and needs to be fixed?

Holiday Blues and a Celebration

By Lisa Manterfield

DSC_0026

That’s me, living life to the fullest in trapeze class earlier this year.

I got caught out again this year with a bout of the Holiday Blues.

After a really fun and non-traditional Thanksgiving with wonderful friends, I headed into December ready to celebrate the holidays my way. Then Bam! I came down with the Holiday Blues.

There will always be things I wish were part of my festive season, like hand-delivering gifts to my family, shopping for small children, and creating the kind of Christmas I had as a child. But it wasn’t theses losses and what-ifs that gave me the blues this year.

Maybe it was the rainy weather that kept me indoors for much of the week. Maybe it was the end of year racing towards me highlighting the things that didn’t get accomplished this year. Or maybe it’s that Christmas doesn’t really feel like something to celebrate anymore.

Finally, I took my own advice, and that of a couple of friends, and dusted myself off. I bought a tree, made plans for Christmas Eve dinner at a favorite restaurant, and wrote and sent my cards. And then I made myself a cup of tea and sliced off a chunk of proper English fruitcake, and I curled up in a chair and wrote in my journal.

I made a list of everything good that happened this year—all the fun things I did (see photo, for one), the challenges I overcame, the goals I reached this year, the friends I spent time with, the family I visited.

And guess what I discovered? It’s been another great year this year. I have lived my life, perhaps not always to the fullest, but to the best that I was able. And I had a good time doing it.

That, I think, is plenty of reason to celebrate.

Holiday Self-Preservation

By Lisa Manterfield

Woman Giving Gift, Portrait, Blurred.Imagine you have a good friend who experiences a death in the family right before the holidays. She’s dealing with funeral arrangements and in among the holiday cards that people sent before they got the news are sympathy cards and notes of condolence. She has her loved one’s belongings to go through and her mind is anywhere but on the holidays. She is mourning and there is little or no room in her grief for festivities.

You understand this and so you forgive your friend when she doesn’t send a card or a gift this year. You don’t expect her to attend the annual get-together you usually have with your group of friends. Instead, you check in on her to make sure she’s okay and you let her know that you’re there for her if she needs anything. You both know next year will be different, that she’ll be back celebrating with you, even though this will always be a difficult time of year for her.

If you’re in the earliest stages of your journey, where perhaps your latest round of IVF has failed or you’ve just come to the realization that children aren’t going to be part of your plan, you’re also grieving a great loss. The difference is, most people around you aren’t going to understand why you aren’t in the holiday spirit and they’re going to expect you to attend events, show up with gifts, and contribute to the merriment. They probably won’t make the same concessions you would make for your friend, so it’s up to you to treat yourself as kindly as you would treat her.

If this year feels too difficult for you, consider taking the year off.

Seriously, what would happen if you didn’t send out cards this year? What would happen if you mailed gift certificates instead of subjecting yourself to the mall and all its triggering festivities to shop for gifts? Do you have to decorate? Can you make excuses for parties you don’t want to attend? Could you even take a year off from whatever family obligations you might have?

It’s just one year. Will the people you love disown you? Some might be upset and yes, there’ll be that relative or friend who’ll never let you not forget, but odds are, most will forgive and forget.

We often try so hard to be there for other people, to meet their expectations and give them the holiday experience they want. But maybe this year you could give yourself what you need instead.

Resetting Holiday Expectations

By Lisa Manterfield

Christmas Stockings Hanging over FireplaceRecently a friend posted this question of Facebook:

“Are you the adult you dreamed of becoming?”

I laughed when I read it. No! Of course I’m not. The adult I dreamed of was an international engineering consultant, living in a large house with a circular driveway, with a fabulous husband and four beautiful children, including one set of twins.

Aside from the fabulous husband, that adult is almost the polar opposite of the adult I am now. I’m a writer, who works from my very small rented beach cottage, and of course, there are no children in my picture. And yet, once I stop to consider my friend’s question, I realize that I’m a lot happier as this adult than I would have been had my expectations been met. I’ve met the person I’d once dreamed of becoming; she wasn’t a very happy person and she definitely had more grey hairs than me.

I’m coming to the conclusion that half the battle of coming-to-terms with a life without children is letting go of our expectations—and creating new ones. This is never more true than during the holiday season, one of the most difficult times of the year to be childless.

When I think of my expectations of what Christmas should be like as an adult, those four children are always there, gathered around the tree, gathered around the dinner table, and then gathered around me as the day comes to a close. Even when I realized that children wouldn’t be part of my life, I still strived to make Christmas live up to my expectations. Consequently, Christmastime was very sad time for a number of years. I knew there was no way my expectations could be met, and eventually I stopped making an effort to celebrate.

The worst year was when my husband and I found ourselves sitting at home, with no Christmas tree, no plans, no celebration, and we knew we’d allowed our lack of children to take over our lives. We also realized it was time to set new, more realistic expectations.

When I took a step back and looked at what I really wanted for Christmas, not on the surface of gifts, family, and decorations, but on a deeper emotional level, I discovered that my spiritual wish list included love, peacefulness, companionship, and a good dose of silly fun. I needed to explore new ways to get what I really wanted.

It took a couple of false starts to find a new way to celebrate Christmas, but a couple of years ago we nailed it. Mr. Fab and I rented an apartment for three days in a nearby beach town. We celebrated on Christmas Eve with a lovely dinner at an historic hotel with an enormous Christmas tree, roving carolers, and even an outdoor ice rink (in Southern California!). On Christmas Day, instead of sitting at home feeling sad about a pathetic Christmas for two, we went to the zoo, like a couple of big kids, and had a whale of a time. I even got to feed a rhino and have an ice cream. We both agreed it was the best Christmas we’ve had for a long time, plus there were no tantrums or mountains of dirty dishes to deal with.

It’s hard to let go of our expectations, especially when they’re often so deeply engrained, but if you’re struggling to find your holiday cheer this year, I encourage you to look beneath the obvious losses and examine what’s really missing for you. Even if you can’t meet your tangible expectations of what the holidays should be, you might be surprised to find you can satisfy your true needs in unconventional—and unexpected—ways.