By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Earlier this week I received a lovely invitation to an “Egg Meets Sperm Networking Mixer.”
What the fruitcake?!
Perhaps it came to my mailbox because someone (or some program) noticed that I write a lot about “babies” and “being childfree” and determined this would be the perfect event for me. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that the event was being hosted by one of the many LGBT organizations I support, and it was intended for gay couples who are exploring their options in adoption, surrogacy, and IVF.
But before I could think through any of this, I reacted by throwing back my head and laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all. Oh, my crazy, mixed-up, outrageously funny life!
As the days passed, I found myself still chuckling as I replayed this in my head, and it dawned on me how far I have come in the past three years. If I had received this invitation earlier in my journey, it might have brought on tears, a grand pity party, or a fit of anger at the unintentional cruelties that served to remind me of my losses and lacks.
The primary reason I can sit here today and laugh about it is because I have been able to heal. And the primary reason I have been able to heal is because I’ve been allowed to grieve, share, commiserate, and celebrate with the amazing community of compassionate women I’ve encountered through LifeWithoutBaby.
If you’ve been a part of LWB for a while, thank you for being a blessing in my journey. I am so grateful to you for your openness and support. If you are new to LWB, stick with it. I know today may be a difficult day for you—I’ve been there. I also know that better days are ahead. You will heal, you will move forward, and you will laugh again.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with being childfree.
Standing in line at the grocery store last week, I spotted the rack of gossip magazines.
There’s been a lot of hoopla lately about celebrities coming out and “admitting” to their struggles with infertility. While I applaud their courage for speaking up, I can’t fail to notice that these confessions always seem to come after the arrival of the miracle baby or the successful adoption. It perpetuates the myth that “it will happen if you only keep trying.”
In today’s
It always boggles my mind when people use their kid’s photo as their own Facebook profile photo. It boggles it even more when they then send me a friend request.
As all of you know, it takes an awful lot of courage to talk about not having children. I know you’ve all been met with looks of confusion, dealt with inaccurate assumptions and unhelpful suggestions, and watched as people have broken eye contact to look almost anywhere else than at the “woman who doesn’t have children.” And those of you who’ve dealt with infertility know that most people can’t even bring themselves to say the word, let alone have an open conversation about it.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I’m back! I feel as if I haven’t written a blog post in months, so I hope my brain and fingers are still connected, and I can still string a sentence together.
Yesterday I accompanied my friend as she underwent a very unpleasant test for a big, scary health issue. My friend is a lot like me: she has no children and her family is many miles away. No one should go through something like this alone, so I volunteered to be, what she good-naturedly called, her “Biopsy Buddy.”
