Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: Do You Want Mine?

If you’re new to the site, you might wondering what Whiny Wednesday is all about.

A few years ago, some readers commented that they couldn’t express how they felt around friends and colleagues, as they were always made to feel as if they were whining. So, we created Whiny Wednesday as a place to complain and grumble about whatever’s on your mind each week. It can be an issue surrounding living without children, or just a general grumble about life, work, family, the world.

I used to start each post with a gripe of my own, but lately I’ve found I’ve covered most of what bothers me, so I put out a call for Whiny Wednesday topics, and you, dear readers, came through! So, each week, I offer one of your suggested topics as a starting point, but as always, any topic is fair game.

So, let’s kick off with this week’s topic:

Parents who complain and complain then ask “Do you want my kids?”

Happy whining!

 

I’m Taking Leap of Faith…and I’m Nervous

crossed-fingers-behindbackThere’s a school of thought that says: When you start to feel afraid of taking a leap or making a change, that’s when you know you’re making the right decision. I’m choosing to subscribe to this school of thought this week, because I’m starting to feel nervous about an upcoming leap of faith.

A couple of months ago I had a brilliant idea. You know the kind I mean. It came to me in an instant and I immediately wondered why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I began thinking about this idea all the time and planning out how it would work. And the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a really great idea. So, I told a couple of people and they thought it was a good idea. So I told a couple more. And before I knew it, I was committed.

Then, this week, things started to get real. The pieces of my plan began clicking into place, money changed hands, and I passed the point of no return, or at least the point of no return without humiliation. Suddenly, I was really nervous.

All the reasons why this was the best idea I’ve ever had suddenly got a little fuzzy at the edges. I woke up in the night with a list of all the things that could go wrong, all the reasons why this was a stupid idea, and I knew I had to make a decision. I could:

A) Call the whole thing off, cut my losses, and go back to my old safe, but ineffective, way of doing things.

B) Put it off a couple more weeks, give myself some time to firm up a few more details and mitigate some of the potential disasters.

C) Pinch my nose, close my eyes, and leap in feet first, hoping that I’d figured out quickly how to swim.

I’ll admit that all these options looked good, but finally, I made a decision. The only way I would ever truly know if this was the best idea since sliced bread was to commit and go for it.

So, here goes…

ASC-Front-medNext week, Wednesday July 27, I will launch a new serialized novel, A Strange Companion. I will publish a new chapter of the novel every single week until I get to “The End”, sometime in early 2017.

I’ve never done anything like this before and honestly, it goes against all my beliefs about how to go about publishing a book. I’m afraid it won’t be good enough. I’m afraid people won’t like it. I’m afraid I’ll get to Chapter 5 or 10 or 20 and realize I started in the wrong place or that there’s an important character or set-up that really needed to appear in Chapter 7.

Regardless, I’m doing it. I’ve had enough of fate deciding what I will or won’t be in this life. My future lies in writing fiction and I’m taking matters into my own hands.

If you happen to be a fiction lover and want to come along on this adventure with me, you can find out a bit more about the project at LisaManterfield.com. If you don’t happen to read fiction, then all I ask is for your good wishes and sharp shove out the door.

Whiny Wednesday: Feeling Imperfect

This week’s topic is another tender subject:

The constant struggle of feeling my life is imperfect because of not having children.


How do you feel about this? Has that feeling changed with the passing of time?

As always, the floor is open for any other whines and rants you need to get off your chest.

How to be Happily Childfree in 10,000 Easy Steps

By Lisa Manterfield

This post is an oldie, originally posted on April 26, 2012, but I think it’s worth a rerun. You can see what others had to say in the original comments here.

MP900289486There are two questions I get asked frequently: How did you come to terms with not having children, and how long did it take?

The answer is something akin to “how long is a piece of string and how many knots can you tie in it?”

Believe me when I tell you that if I could write down ten easy steps to making peace with being childfree-not-by-choice, I’d do it, but the answer isn’t that simple. Yes, there were many things that happened along the way that helped me make some peace, but it took closer to 10,000 steps than ten.

Writing down my story was hugely cathartic, venting about the injustices on this blog helped, too. Realizing I wasn’t alone in this and that people like you were out there wanting to talk through the minefield has helped immeasurably. Drawing a line in the sand and saying, “This is where that chapter of my life ends and this is where I start healing” also helped. And frankly, telling myself a big fat lie that I was better off not being a mother actually helped me to realize that in many ways I was. Setting new goals, appreciating the benefits of not having kids, and allowing myself to feel bitter and badly treated when I needed to. All these things helped.

I don’t think there’s a formula for working your way through this, and it’s definitely a journey of making forward process and dealing with inevitable setbacks.

As for how long the process takes? How long is that piece of string? It’s been three years for me and I consider myself largely at peace with my situation. I have closed the door on the idea that I will have children someday and most days I’m good with it. Everyday it gets a little better and a little easier. Some days there will be reminders of what I’ve lost and sometimes a flicker of a thought of “what if…”

The truth is, in many ways, I expect this piece of string to go on forever. The experience of infertility has changed me. It is one of the most significant and life-changing events of my life, and I don’t think the repercussions of that will ever stop reverberating. It doesn’t mean I won’t find harmony and even happiness in this new life – I already have – but I don’t expect this journey of coming-to-terms to ever fully end.

Story Power: A Campfire Story for Your Younger Self

By Lisa Manterfield

CampfireSince we humans first began gathering into social and familial groups, we’ve used stories to create a sense of community. Early hunter-gatherers shared tales to pass along information, traditions, and important lessons.

In this fascinating Life Science article, Campfire Tales Served as Early Human Social Media, researchers noticed a big difference between daytime and nighttime campfire stories told among a tribe of Kalahari Bushmen. While the daytime conversations were made up of only 6 percent stories, the rest being complaints, gossip, hunting plans, and jokes, once the tribe gathered around the nighttime campfires, 81 percent of conversations were stories.

The stories passed along information about tribal customs and ceremonies, as well as warnings of dangers, such as the story of three bushmen killed in a fire. The tribe also used stories to pass information to younger generations.

Modern Stories

Even today, we find our way around in the world and understand who we are through handed down stories. I heard stories about my aunt who emigrated to Australia by boat in the 1940s, which helped me understand why I seemed to be the only person in my family to move far from home. I recently learned that my habit of dragging my husband on long, under-prepared hikes comes not from my dad, as I’d always believed, but from my mum, who had the same habit.

As a child, I learned about the dangers of electrocution, of hot cooking oil, of crossing the street, not from formal lessons, but from stories told by others. More recently, my social media feed has bombarded me with a million things to worry about, everything from terrorist attacks to falling off a cliff while playing Pokémon Go.

From this community, I’ve learned from other people’s stories that I was not alone in my experiences, and gained ideas about how to cope with challenges. And writing my own story has helped me to understand myself too, to give perspective to experiences I didn’t fully understand as they we happening.

As you think about the stories you might tell, what important wisdom would you pass along if you had the chance to sit around the campfire with your younger self?

Whiny Wednesday: Unfair Expectations

It’s Whiny Wednesday, your opportunity to rant on a theme.

This week’s topic has been brought up by several readers:

Feeling that you’re expected to carry a disproportionate responsibility for the care of aging parents because you don’t have children to worry about. 

Feel free to add your own whines, too.

Ms. Cellophane: Feeling Invisible

By Lisa Manterfield

Orate Mirror in the Corner of a RoomHave you ever been around people who behave as if you can’t possibly know anything about life because you don’t have children?

I’m sure that all of us have heard the old chestnuts, “You wouldn’t understand; you don’t have kids” or “I didn’t understand until I became a mother” (which implies the same thing) or even “Only a parent could know how this feels,” as if being childless strips away all capability of empathy.

And then there are those situations where you just feel invisible, when the conversation about children and parenting is swirling around you and no one even bothers to make eye contact with you because what could you possibly contribute?

These instances make me think of the wonderful “Mr. Cellophane” number from the musical “Chicago.”

And even without clucking like a hen,

Everyone gets noticed now and then,

Unless, of course, that person it should be,

Invisible, inconsequential me.

Personally, I’m done with feeling insignificant because I don’t have kids. It took me a long time to get to this point, but now I hold my ground in conversation. I contribute when I can and simply listen and nod when I can’t, just as I would if I found myself in a conversation on any other topic on which I’m not an expert.

I also keep a list of amazing childless women in case I ever need to remind myself that we don’t need to be parents to make a difference. On my personal list is Amelia Earhart, Dian Fossey, Julia Child, and Juliet Gordon Low, who started the Girl Scout movement. If you need your own role models, Jody Day has put together an outstanding collection on Pinterest.

You’d be hard-pressed to call any of these women insignificant. I remind myself of this when I find myself allowing others to make me feel like less than who I am.

So what do you do when you start to feel like a Ms. Cellophane? Do you feign boredom, try to hop in with an intelligent anecdote, change the subject, or do you slip away and hope no one notices you’ve left?

Our Stories: Rosie

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesRosie suffered a miscarriage early in her current relationship, which prompted her partner to reveal he didn’t want any more children other than the daughter he already has. However, he also said he “might” be willing to have a child with her, if that’s what she really wanted. For Rosie, it’s a difficult moral and ethical dilemma, and she would “hate to have to choose between him and motherhood.”

Meanwhile, at 32, she’s noticing “time ticking on,” and it’s becoming more and more painful to her to acknowledge she may never have children on her own.

Should she stay with the partner she loves, or choose a chance at motherhood over him? Here’s her story, one that reveals a different reason why some people end up childfree.

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

Rosie: I’m childfree by circumstance. After I was devastated by the end of my first long-term relationship, some lousy dates, and a couple of disastrous, short-term relationships, I finally met my current partner. He’s older than I am and has a child from a previous relationship. A contraceptive failure meant that I accidentally fell pregnant within the first year of our relationship. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but my boyfriend was supportive. Then I miscarried at 11 weeks. It was really tough, emotionally and physically. My partner and I had some heart-to-heart discussions, and it came to light that he would prefer not to have any more children. I’m just not sure I could push for us to have kids when it’s not something he really wants. It could lead to resentment or a breakdown in the relationship—and I love my partner.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Rosie: I honestly don’t know. Most of the time I feel like I’m perfectly content with my partner and the life we have. My relationship with my young stepdaughter is great, and I value the bond we have. But I’m not her mother, and I’m reminded of this at various junctures during the time we spend together. For example, when she falls and grazes her knee, it’s her daddy she seeks for comfort. Sometimes, when I have a meeting at work with someone who’s heavily pregnant, or I hear a colleague talk about her child starting school, I feel sad about the child we lost and I feel like I can’t cope with being childless for another second. I’m still considering what to do and how to move forward. Should I stay in a relationship with the man I love, who may or may not want children (and risk never being a parent), or should I move on…but to what?

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

Rosie: The feeling that there is so much love in my heart ready for a child, but that this may never be realized. The sense that there’s a whole other world of love, joy, and wonder that I cannot be a part of. That my life hasn’t fully “started” properly yet, because I don’t have children. Dealing with insensitive (and sometimes ridiculous) comments from friends, family members, and colleagues about my childless status (such as “It’ll be your turn next!” “If you want a baby, just stop using birth control and don’t tell your partner.”).

LWB: What’s one thing you want other people to know about your being childfree?

Rosie: That there are numerous reasons why some people don’t have children, that it’s not just a case of “didn’t want/couldn’t have.” The reasons why people are childfree are unique to each individual and should be treated with compassion and sensitivity. Sometimes I might wish to finish work early, or not always be the one to work the holiday shifts, even though I don’t have children. I may not understand what it is to be a mother, but I do understand what it is to experience love, pain, tiredness, illness. I know what it is to be a part of a family, struggle with work/life balance, and make ends meet. I may not have children, but I still would like to be regarded as a human being of worth and be valued equally as those with children.

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Rosie: Before I found LWB, I felt so alone with my feelings. These aren’t the sort of thoughts and feelings I can share with friends, colleagues, or family (most of whom have children), as they just don’t really seem to “get” where I’m coming from. Finding LWB has been a really enlightening and positive experience.

Rosie mentioned in her cover letter what a healing experience it was to write and share her story. I hope you’ll share your story with us. Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

If you’re not quite ready for this step, I encourage you to check out the Community Forums and other Our Stories, where you will find support from LWB readers who have traveled paths similar to yours.

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

 

Whiny Wednesday: Uber Parents

Whiny WednesdayThey’re everywhere. You’ve heard them spouting about pre-schools. You’ve seen them take over restaurants. Maybe you’re even related to one!

They’re the topic for this week’s whine:

Uber-Parents

Here’s your chance to blow off steam.

Story Power: Why Writers Must Ask “Why?”

Photo by Rebecca Lacko

Two weeks ago I got to visit the beautiful Pacific Northwest to teach a workshop about book promotion. I met the most generous and supportive group of writers at BARN (Bainbridge Artisan Regional Network) and we dug into how to find readers for fiction, non-fiction, and poetry.

One of the most important questions to ask as a writer is “Why?”

Why should a reader care about my work?

Why should she invest her valuable time?

And why the heck am I writing this story in the first place?

It’s not reasonable for an writer to expect to inspire someone to pick up her book if she doesn’t know what inspired her to write it in the first place. How can you assure someone they won’t regret reading it when you have no idea why they might get something valuable from it?

So, the first exercise we did in the workshop was to answer the question: Why are you doing the work you do?

IMG_8938

Photo by Rebecca Lacko

I watched brows furrow around the room as the members of the group considered the question. Then, one-by-one, I watched realization hit. When people shared their reasons—everything from giving a voice to baby boomers to inspiring children to explore outdoors—you could hear the passion about their topics in their voices.

Whenever I read a book I love, I always want to know what inspired the author to write it. Don’t you?

So if you’re thinking about writing your story, or any story for that matter, start by asking “why?”. Why am I compelled to share this? What do I want to say and why would a reader care? Understanding your personal “why” will make starting to write an awful lot easier.

***

For now, I’ll leave you with some pictures that have inspired me to put the Pacific Northwest on my list of places to visit again soon.

Mandatory lunch at Elliot's

Mandatory lunch at Elliott’s

 

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View of Seattle from the Bainbridge Ferry

 

The result of buying too many books at Eagle Harbor Book Co.

The result of buying too many books at Eagle Harbor Book Co.

 

A slice of paradise

A slice of paradise