filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Among my many New Year’s Resolutions this year was a pledge to work smarter, take on fewer projects, make more time for myself, and not get myself in a frazz every day.
Yeah, right. Two weeks in and I’m burning the midnight oil and eating canned soup at my desk. Why even fool myself that this year would be any different?
It’s Whiny Wednesday. How many of your good intentions have already gone out the window?
Stocking up on some Christmas cheer last week, I was asked to show I.D. for my purchases. Never one to begrudge being carded, I pulled out my driver’s license and showed it to the young assistant.
She gave it a quick look, did some math, and said, “Wow, you look good for 42.”
Even as my ego puffed up faster than an inflatable Santa lawn ornament, a quip sprung to my lips.
“That’s because I don’t have kids,” I almost said.
It’s true I only have a few errant gray hairs and my worry lines are small and faint, and it’s also true that friends my age who do have kids generally have a lot more gray than me under their highlights.
So, I wonder, is it genes that have kept the gray away, or was the young woman just a bad judge of age, or could looking younger be a perk of not having kids? What do you think?
If you’re dealing with Premature Ovarian Failure/Primary Ovarian Insufficiency and you’re in Southern California, a local IPOFA support group invites you to join them.
“We talk about HRT and medical issues related to POF, but we also talk about the infertility side as well,” says the group’s organizer. “Even if you don’t have POF, you are welcome to join us as long as you don’t mind a little HRT chatter from time to time. A lot of us are childfree by circumstance. And it’s very casual – just chatting over coffee.”
The peer-organized group meets monthly, alternating between Los Angeles and San Diego. The group’s next two meetings are:
Saturday, January 12, Noon-2:00pm
Bread & Porridge
2315 Wilshire Blvd, Santa Monica
Monday, February 11, 7-9pm
Peet’s Coffee & Tea, Point Loma
955 Catalina Blvd, Suite 103, San Diego
You can find more information about the group at their website: http://poisurvivorsgroup.blogspot.com/
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In other news, I will be speaking on the topic of “letting go” at The Fertility Planit Show this weekend. You can read more about what I’m doing there in this post.
I’m very aware of the awkwardness and delicacy of discussing a fertility education event on this site, so if you’re in the thick of coming-to-terms and trying to move forward, please stop reading now.
If however, you’ve arrived here by accident, you know someone who is trying to conceive and would appreciate this event, or you’re just curious, I do have a few guest passes for the show. If you’d like to attend as my guest, please register here. My panel is on Sunday from 3-4pm, so please be sure to drop by and say hello.
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If you have news of support or information meetings, or other events that might be of interest to our group (please keep them relevant to the childless/childfree topic) please send me the information and I’ll be happy to post it.
By Robin
Communication.
It’s an enormous word, or at least its impact is. What a difference communicating makes. It opens up an entire world of reality. It lets people in. This is one of the reasons some people choose not to communicate. Sometimes it’s so much easier to assume than actually go through the process of finding something out. This is something I am guilty of.
After my most recent miscarriage, I pushed my husband away. I was in so much pain and didn’t know what to do. I had lost hope and wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back. At one point my husband and I sat down and told each other that, with my outlook (all hope is lost) and his outlook (we can try again when we’re ready), we were wearing on one another. Neither of us could take much more of the opposite. With this said between us I stopped communicating with him. I didn’t want to cause him pain because I was in enough of it for both of us. I was also in fear that he would leave (even though he NEVER gave me a reason to think that.) It wasn’t until I realized by NOT communicating I was making things worse that I decided to try communicating how I felt and tell my husband what he could do for me while I was hurting. First I had to figure out how I felt and what I needed, but then I had to communicate it to the person I wanted and needed.
When I chose to communicate, a world of happiness followed. I realized I had assumed most things wrong. Even the few things I may have assumed correctly weren’t nearly as awful as I’d thought, and most made more sense with a little explanation. My husband told me the reasons behind why he had the outlook he had (way more positive and filled with hope than I could ever muster right after losing my baby) and that he wanted to take away my pain, “fix it”, because he loved me. He reminded me that we don’t get this time back and he wants to enjoy every moment of our life together with or without a baby in it. I realized he can see his future with or without a baby and, even though he’ll be happier with one, he’ll be ok either way. I, on the other hand, still can’t bring myself to seeing a future without one. (Note to self: I need to work on this, just in case.) I needed my husband to remind me we’re in this together, whatever “this” ends up being.
Communication has brought my husband and me closer. It brings us all closer to those we communicate with. It brought back happiness in my life and relationships. Things that used to bother me aren’t as important anymore. They aren’t worth being bothered over. I’ve never been happier I communicated my feelings and what I needed. First I had to figure those two things out which is a struggle of it’s own. BUT when you figure out what you need and how you feel, I highly recommend communicating and sharing those things with the people around you. The people you feel the safest with and know and love you. Also share with them how you need them to respond or not respond to the way you feel. Sometimes all you need is a listening ear and not a solution. Many times the people who care about you want to help you any way they can. I needed to tell my husband there wasn’t a solution to keep me from grieving. I just needed to stop running and feel these emotions right now in order to get through them. I had to let him know all I needed from him was a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. Communication is a wonderful thing and I hope you, too, find happiness or peace through it.
I wish I had realized the importance of communication sooner because since I communicated with my husband, and he with me, we have felt as close to each other as we did when we were newlyweds. We haven’t felt this way for years. I know my grieving isn’t over and who knows what feelings will come when/if we try again or decide we’re through and begin our own life without baby adventure. What I do know is that if we continue to communicate openly and honestly we will be much happier and most likely see the next 10+ years together.
About Robin: I live in New Hampshire with my husband of 10 years and our 4 year old dog, Samuel Adams, aka Sam. We have been trying to conceive through IVF for a little over 2 years. We’ve been through 6 cycles resulting in 3 failed attempts along with 1 ectopic pregnancy and 2 miscarriages. We are currently taking a break after our last miscarriage in August 2012. We are taking things a day at a time and trying to reconnect before making a decision whether or not to try again in the New Year. If you’d like to follow my blog as I write about our journey, come check it out at www.miraclesinwaiting.com.
Editor’s Note: If you’d like to see your story in “You’re Not Alone,” check out our Guidelines for how to submit.
Mr. Fab and I had a truly fabulous Christmas. For the first time ever, we went away, just the two of us. It was bliss, absolute bliss, and I think it’s going to become our new tradition.
On Christmas Day, we went to the zoo and treated ourselves to a behind-the-scenes tour. It really was a treat, as we got to get up close and personal with some fascinating creatures.
We almost abandoned ship, though.
When we arrived, we were mortified to find that our tour included a HUGE family of 13, including at least 8 or 9 of the most unruly, out of control kids, accompanied by a set of adults that seemed to have forgotten they had kids at all. The kids were fighting, breaking things, and completely ignoring the pretty important safety rules (such as don’t move fast in front of a cheetah as it will think you’re a juicy bit of prey and hunt you down at 70 miles per hour.)
To our dismay, when the guides split the tour group into two, our lanyards matched that of the family’s. So, we did a bit of rule breaking of our own and slipped in behind the other group. There, we followed behind a delightful family, with three lovely, well-behaved children, where we got to enjoy watching their excitement at feeding a rhino and petting a kangaroo almost as much as our own.
Pity the poor folks in the other group, though.
It’s the first Whiny Wednesday of the New Year, and I know you’ve got some leftover holiday whines. Now’s your chance to let them all out.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
A toast to wonderful new beginnings and a world of possibilities!
As a kid growing up in Southern California, I was obsessed with the Tournament of Roses Parade that took place every New Year’s Day. My family secured seats in the bleachers one year, and my college roommates and I sat in the front row when our UCLA Bruins played in (and won) the Rose Bowl, but most years the tradition was to stay in pajamas, cuddle up in blankets, and eat breakfast in front of the TV. I loved the princesses (I’m practicing the wave right now), the horses that marched and pranced, the beautiful, flower-covered floats.
That’s why I couldn’t wait to see what the float designers would do with this year’s theme: “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” It was inspired by Dr. Seuss’ book of the same name. Dr. Seuss, the clever, imaginative, silly, and prolific creator of classics such as The Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham. Did you know he and his wife were childfree? That’s right. One of the most beloved storytellers of all time has entertained millions of children, but never had one of his own. We celebrated what would have been his 108th birthday last March with one of our chero (heroes who are childfree) profiles. Read it here.
I don’t know where this year will take me. I hope there will be more ups than downs. I hope to create more joy in my life. I hope that I will become more at peace with my childfree status. I know, wherever my path leads, that it will be a grand adventure.
I hope the same for you. And as we begin this new beginning, I offer to you the opening words from Dr. Seuss’ book:
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
I wish you traveling mercies, my sisters.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Happy New Year!
Welcome back. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season.
As you can see, a few things have changed around here over the past couple of weeks, and today I am very pleased and proud to unveil the brand new site, or Life Without Baby 2.0, as I’ve been calling it.
If you’ve been hanging with me on the old blog for a while, don’t worry, you’ll find all the old posts and all your old friends still here. If you’re used to finding yourself over on the community site, that’s here too, with everything as it was.
You’ll also find some new features, such as a resource library of useful information (Learn) and some new programs that will be coming up this year (Get Help).
Some things are still works-in-progress and I’ll be gathering new information and adding it as I go. For example, I want to include a more comprehensive list of helpful books that deal with the topic of life after infertility and living childfree. If you’ve read a book that’s been helpful or inspiring, please tell me about it so I can add it to the list.
Before I send you off to snoop around the site and get acquainted, I want to introduce to three fabulous women who made all this happen.
Julia Clarke at ScarletHare designed the logo and colors for the new look.
Lee Miller of Pink Bubble Gum Websites not only went above and beyond the call of duty to put the whole site together and make it look beautiful, she also shared her web and life wisdom, made me laugh, and reminded me to take one imperfect step at a time.
When Lee and I had finished making things pretty, the unflappable Wendy Cholbi glided in and made it all work. She seamlessly moved three years of work from the two former sites and made them all come together here.
I would like to extend a huge thank you to these talented professionals for helping me do what I could never have done alone. Thanks, ladies.
And now I invite you to come inside, take a look around, and make yourselves at home.
Welcome to Life Without Baby 2.0.
This will be the very last post of 2012. But don’t worry; come the New Year, we’ll be back with a brand new site.
Yes, the Great Life Without Baby Makeover is almost complete. For the past couple of months, some talented ladies (I’ll introduce them later) have been working their magic behind the scenes to get the new site ready. I’m beyond excited about the big reveal.
So, what does this mean to you?
1 – All will be quiet here on the blog next week. You’ll still be able to access all the posts, although you may not be able to add comments.
2 – On January 7th, look out for the first post of the New Year.
3 – We’ll be at a new address: LifeWithoutBaby.com, (although you’ll be redirected there if you use the old lifewithoutbaby.wordpress.com URL.) You’ll still find all the prior posts (almost three-years worth!) plus lots of new goodies. I’ll be offering a grand tour on opening day.
So, for now, I wish you a Happy New Year, and I’ll see you at LifeWithoutBaby.com next year!
Guest post by: Quasi-Momma
I once was blind, but now I see, to paraphrase an old hymn. That pretty much sums up my perception of Hubs feelings about our inability to have a child of our own together.
I’m probably not the first woman to make the mistake of thinking her husband’s lack of visible and expressed emotion meant they were “doing just fine.” Nor will I be the last.
Men react to loss differently than women. Men have the need to be strong. They don’t like to reflect. Instead, they act. I remember after our second pregnancy loss, my parents flew into town to help us through it. During the first few days, Hubs and Pop were just a whirlwind of household projects. It grated on my nerves. We were supposed to be grieving, and yet there they were painting and replacing fixtures. By day three I lost it on Hubs. How dare he take our time of grief and use it as an excuse to take time off to do chores around the house? What kind of unfeeling jerk was he? Why wasn’t he as distraught and depressed as I was?
Earlier this year as I started on the path to accepting that “mommyhood” was not in the cards for me we fought again over my need to put some space between me and a pregnant relative. I begged to be excused from family events. In the face of his insistence, I lashed out at him in pain and anger. “You don’t understand,” I hissed. “You’ve got children of your own. You’ll never know what this feels like.”
I continued to see that way for some time. But the fact is that he was and is hurting too. We just hurt in different ways. It hurts him to see me grieving the loss of a dream. It hurts him that he can’t do anything to change our circumstance or make our pain go away. I know he’d do anything to change things if he could. He even tried by helping me look into the only thing that our resources could afford – foster care – and we were both pained to discover that it was not the right option of us either.
I’m now starting to see how badly he wanted us to have children together. Over time, chinks in his armor are beginning to show. Sitting in church when the pastor makes reference to his soon to be born daughter, I can both hear and feel him groan inwardly. At the mall while viewing Christmas trees decorated with pictures and wishes of foster children, I see him choke up just slightly. When tiny footsteps announce that the children have returned from children’s worship, we exchange sad smiles with each other. And when the inevitable cute baby or “we’re pregnant” commercial graces our television set, I see out of the corner of my eye him slowly extend a middle finger towards the screen if only to make me laugh.
Now that I’ve opened my eyes to these small and different expressions of his sadness and grief, I feel less alone in this journey. I also feel terrible that I had not seen this in him earlier. Being at odds with your spouse during this struggle makes the pain deeper for both of you. I share this in hopes that someone who has experienced the pain of this perceived gap might also see the ways in which their partner also hurts. After all, you are in this together.
I was thinking that maybe we wouldn’t need Whiny Wednesday, what with it being the happy holiday season and all that. But I’m a realist at heart, so here it is.
Happy Whiny Wednesday to you!
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