Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Infertility’s Cruel Joke

In an earlier post this week, I talked about hope and moving on. The post generated a lot of great comments and a number of people mentioned how hope is like carrying around a bowling ball and that it is impossible to move on as long as you hold onto it. I couldn’t agree more.

I have definitely let go of my “bowling ball.” I am no longer hoping for a miracle pregnancy. Given my condition, it would be virtually impossible. The problem is the “virtually” bit.

Recently, after talking to someone about moving on, she reminded me that it could still happen and that her friend, who had been told she’d never have children, got pregnant at 48!

She was trying to make me feel better, in that “hopey” way, but it didn’t work, and now I can’t get this thought out of my head.

What if I got pregnant now? Hormones do wild things and as menopause approaches (which I’ve been told it is) those hormones have been known to misbehave. What if my body suddenly kicked out that one juicy egg? What if I got pregnant at 48?

Even overlooking all the health risks of being pregnant at 48, my husband is 15 years my senior, which means he’d be in his 80s by the time our child made it out of high school!! My father-in-law is currently 81 and he is no condition to be taking care of a teenager, nor would he want to.

But there’s an even bigger factor at play here. The bowling ball. I’ve let mine go and I don’t want to pick it up again. I can’t say that I no longer want children, because that’s not the entire truth, but I don’t want to live with the hope or the worry that I might get unexpectedly pregnant. I want to keep moving on with the life I’m creating now.

So, I now find myself in the ironic position of being diagnosed infertile but having to consider contraceptive options.

Sometimes I wonder if life isn’t just one big April Fool’s joke.

Finding Your Identity After Infertility

Some time ago I mentioned that I was working on putting together some seminars to deal with life after infertility, and I’m very pleased to announce that the first one has been scheduled for June!

I’ve been working with a friend who is an amazing therapist and writer. Using her experience in dealing with loss and my own experience with infertility, plus the information I’ve learned from you through this blog, all bundled together with our mutual  knowledge of creative pursuits as therapy, we’ve developed a series of seminars called Healing Through Creativity.


The topic of the first seminar is Finding Your Identity After Infertility. From my own experience, I’ve learned how important it is to rediscover who we are after imagining ourselves in the role of mother for so long. This seminar aims to start that process.

I’m very excited about this new venture and it feels to me like something I’m supposed to be doing.

Here’s the information for the first seminar in Los Angeles, and a link to the website for more details:

Finding Your Identity After Infertility

Sunday, June 26, 2011

8:30 a.m. – 5:00 p.m.

DoubleTree Hotel, LAX/El Segundo

 

The plan is to run a series of seminars covering different topics and to eventually make them available elsewhere. Watch this space.

Too Perplexed to Be Outraged

You’ve probably seen the news this week about PETA’s vasectomy campaign and National Infertility Awareness Week. If not, here’s a quick rundown.

– PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) announced an upcoming campaign to offer a free vasectomy to a man who has his dog neutered.

 

– PETA then launched the campaign “in honor” of National Infertility Awareness Week.

 

– Blogger and IF advocate Keiko Zoll launched a petition and email/phone crusade against PETA’s campaign.

 

– PETA agreed to remove any reference to National Infertility Awareness Week from the campaign.

You can follow along as the story unfolded on Keiko’s blog.

I must confess that I was not one of the bloggers and infertility advocates that participated in the petition to PETA. I’m afraid to say that this was one of those occasions where I was too stunned for action. I never quite got to the point at being outraged about the lack of respect for the infertility community, because I could never get beyond the whole bizarre nature of the campaign itself.

As much as I support responsible pet ownership, I’m also personally aware of the consequences of human vasectomy. Voluntary human sterilization isn’t something that should be taken lightly or undertaken without weighing all the pros and cons. It certainly isn’t something appropriate to be won in a contest.

So, while Keiko Zoll was fighting and winning her battle, I’m afraid I was sitting here scratching my head trying to make some sense of the campaign. I never even got to the stage of trying to find some tenuous connection between voluntarily vasectomy and infertility.

I applaud Keiko for fighting the fight for the Infertility community and I continue to puzzle over the inner workings of PETA’s marketing department.

Whiny Wednesday: The Mother’s Club

I recently moved to a new town and I’m working to establish a life here. I’ve always got one eye open for community events that I might want to get involved in.

At the farmer’s market last Saturday I picked up a flyer for a group that was all about growing and producing your own food. As I have a garden and it actually rains here once in a while, I’m very eager to create a thriving vegetable patch. I’m even considering getting chickens! So this organization looked perfect for me.

But when I examined the card closer, I saw that the group was aimed at mothers wanting to provide healthy food for their children. I put the card back on the table and walked away.

I can’t say for certain that I wouldn’t be made welcome at that group, but I wasn’t prepared to risk it. And even if I was accepted there, wouldn’t the subject of motherhood trump the love for vegetables?

As it’s Whiny Wednesday, I’m feeling bad about being left out, and whiny about how the exclusivity of motherhood infringes on all aspects of life—even the growing of tomatoes and the canning of fruit.

Do you have a whine, justified or otherwise? Today’s the day to get it off your chest.

Hope vs. Acceptance

In the past week two different people have made comments to me that have amounted to the same message: Don’t give up hope; there’s still a chance you could have a baby.

Whether you’re childless-by-choice, or by circumstance, I’m willing to bet you’ve had someone say something similar to you.

“It could still happen.”

“You’ll change your mind.”

“Don’t give up hope.”

The “don’t give up hope” type of comment is the one that hits me closest to the core. While I think that hope is key to human survival, I think it can be dangerous if it isn’t backed by action. Just hoping something will happen someday is how potential and lives get frittered away.

While I was trying to get pregnant, I was full of hope, but I was also doing everything I possibly could to make it happen. Now that I am no longer trying, I am no longer holding out hope.

But this doesn’t mean I feel hopeless. And this is what I want to be able to explain to people who still carry hope for me.

Losing hope of having children is very different from accepting and coming-to-terms with the fact that I won’t. I am not hopeless; I haven’t thrown in the towel; I haven’t rolled over and surrendered to my childlessness. I have made a conscious decision to stop my quest to conceive and for the past two years I’ve been working on coming-to-terms with that decision. I haven’t lost hope; I’ve just changed my outcome. I haven’t simply given up on the idea of having children; I’ve made a decision to live childfree.

I know that many of these comments are said with the best of intentions. People who care about us can’t bear to see us not get something we want, or not get something that they think we should want. There is still a pervading idea that people who don’t have children do, or eventually will, want them. But some of us just don’t, or won’t, or did once, but don’t anymore. For the latter group, it’s not about giving up hope; it’s about accepting what is and building a life from there.

It Got Me Thinking…Abouts Childfree PSAs

By Kathleen Guthrie

While on a treadmill at the gym this morning, I caught the tail end of a public service announcement (PSA) about forest fire prevention. PSAs encourage us to stop smoking, promote charities that support vital medical research, raise awareness about health and safety issues, and diminish the stigmas associated with victims of assault and people who suffer from mental illnesses. In the last category especially, they remind us we are all equally human. And it got me thinking….When do we, the Women of the World Who Are Childfree, get a PSA?

Our script might read something like this:

Music in background: instrumental of Bonnie Raitt’s* “Something to Talk About”

Voice #1, Kathleen Guthrie*: My name is Kathleen. I am a writer and I am childfree.

Voice #2, Oprah Winfrey*: My name is Oprah, and I don’t need to have children of my own to raise up humanity.

Voice #3, Lisa Manterfield*: My name is Lisa. Every day, women around the globe are rocking the world instead of rocking a cradle.

Voice #4, Ashley Judd*: My name is Ashley, and we are Women of the World Who Are Childfree. Join us today and get a free toaster!

*All of these rocking women are childfree.

Okay, I’m kidding about the free toaster part. But one day, in my lifetime, I’d like for women like us to be able to talk openly about being childfree without having to apologize or feel sorry for ourselves. Better yet, I’d like to see my childfree-ness become a nonissue when my value is measured in our society.

Ad Council: Are you hearing us?

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Her articles have appeared in AAA’s Westways, GRIT, Real Simple, and 805 Living magazines. Read “How to Be the World’s Best Aunt Ever” on eHow.com.

Childfree Women Lack Empathy and Ability to Love?

Sorry to ruin your Saturday, but this article got me all riled up and I had to share.

Former politician Mark Latham has accused the Australian Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, of lacking empathy because she is childless-by-choice. He says:

“I think having children is the great loving experience of any lifetime. And by definition you haven’t got as much love in your life if you make that particular choice. […] Anyone who chooses a life without children, as Gillard has, cannot have much love in them.”

This kind of narrow-minded thinking makes me sick, and I see it over and over. How does making a conscious, intelligent decision to not bring children into the world equate to an inability to love?

Mr. Latham’s ignorant assertion that “Anyone who chooses a life without children cannot have much love in them” implies that everyone who has children must be full of love.

So here’s a quick list of some recent news articles:

Chicago Tribune: Indiana man sentenced in 6-month-old boy’s death

Sydney Morning Herald: Woman charged over baby’s death

The Times: Mother and boyfriend guilty of causing baby’s death

Enough said.

Mr. Latham, I suggest you engage your brain before opening your mouth in future.

Mother’s Day: Part I

Self-Portairt: Mum and Me Climbing Mountains

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day in the UK, where my mum is. I sent her a card and on Sunday I called and wished her a Happy Mother’s Day. We chatted about the weather and her garden, and she caught me up on the news. It was a lovely Mother’s Day—for both of us. I quietly, privately, without ceremony, celebrated my own lovely mother.

Next month will see Mother’s Day here in the U.S. On that day I’ll probably stay in bed.

Thanks to the Hallmark influence, people will be going nuts for every mother, not just their own. Restaurants and stores will be celebrating motherhood and those of us who aren’t mothers will be reminded again of what we’re missing.

When I celebrate Christmas, I try to remain aware that others may come from different religious backgrounds, and I choose carefully when to say “Merry Christmas” and when to opt for the safer “Happy Holidays.” I celebrate Christmas in my way, but I don’t force my celebration on others. I’m not suggesting that “Happy Mother’s Day” be replaced with “Happy Everyone’s Day,” but I do wish that Mother’s Day would return to its origins, of children celebrating the mothers they love, in their own private way.

Talking About Infertility

Last night I was at a book signing event in San Francisco. It was really fun. I sat around with about ten women and we drank wine and talked about the craziness of infertility and how life doesn’t always give you what you want—and how sometimes that’s ok.

It was a mixed group, including women who were childfree by choice, not-by-choice, or not-exactly-by-choice, as well as a handful of mothers. Here are some of the most interesting highlights for me:

From one of the mothers: “My friend just told me that she’d been through infertility treatments. I had no idea.”

From another of the mothers: “Out of my circle had nine friends, seven had problems conceiving. I didn’t realize how common a problem this is.”

From a woman who was childfree (I think not-by-choice, but I’m not sure): This isn’t the life I’d planned for myself, but I feel like I’m just where I’m supposed to be.”

From a lovely softspoken woman, the oldest member of the group: “I can completely understand how you lost all logic and behaved the way you did, because it happened to me.”

Sometimes you feel as if you’re the only person in the world to go through infertility or to find yourself childfree when you hadn’t planned it that way, but what I’m seeing first-hand is that this touches so many people. And what I’m encouraged to learn is that those who haven’t experienced it themselves want to know more, so they can help the people they care about. I find myself heartened by this.

Whiny Wednesday: Feeling Old

Last year my milestone birthday (40, if you must know) passed without an ounce of angst. In fact I was glad to be 40. I felt that I had come of age at last, come into my own, reached my zenith. Now, as my milestone-birthday-plus-one approaches, I just feel old.

 

My feet hurt, my back hurts, my tooth broke, and my hair went thin. My GP says my blood sugar is high and my OB tells me I’m heading into menopause, oh, about 10 years ahead of schedule.

Yesterday was the topper, though.  I went to the health food store to buy vitamins and found myself checking out the cute guy behind the counter. He was clearly younger than me, but still within range had I been in the market for such a thing. Or so I thought. In a conversation about IDs, he mentioned that his mom still gets carded. “And she’s 45!”

I paid for my old lady vitamins and left.

Yes, I know that age is a state of mind, and that I will snap out of this, but today is Whiny Wednesday, so I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Whine on, sisters. What’s on your mind today?