Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Meeting You

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Mark your calendars for Saturday, February 11, 2012—the first-ever LWB Meet-Up!

We’ve bandied this about for a while and now it’s going to happen! The San Francisco Group members (look under “Groups” on the Main page of the LifeWithoutBaby site) are going to meet in San Francisco for a casual lunch, a get-to-know-you gathering. If you live in Northern California, sign on with our group and come join us.

This isn’t just for gals in my neighborhood. If you haven’t already, join one of the other regional groups and suggest a meeting place. If your area isn’t represented, start a group (under the Groups column, there’s a place to “+ Add a Group”). If none of this is practical for you, then call or e-mail a childfree friend and ask her out for lunch. You don’t have to tell her what inspired the invitation; think of it as a worthy excuse to catch up with a good friend. (And if it’s just you, then take yourself out for a really nice lunch and we’ll be with you in spirit!)

In my mind, this isn’t a time to get together to bitch about being childless (feel free to do that on tomorrow’s Whiny Wednesday) or to pull out our hankies and share our sorrowful tales (feel free to do that any and every day on LWB, a safe place where you can pour your heart out to a compassionate and sympathetic community). Let’s focus on the positive, break bread together, and simply enjoy being in the company of other great women…who happen to be childfree…just like me.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She loves discussing books and movies, and gathering suggestions for “must-sees” for her upcoming trip to France.

Walk a Mile in my Shoes

I never thought I’d be sitting here defending the Duggars, but here I am.

I realize this is old news, but I keep thinking about the photo that circulated of their miscarried baby. When I first heard about it, I rolled my eyes. That’s my standard response to any news I hear about them. But then I though about it more, and you know what? I get it.

People who’ve never dealt with infertility, loss of a child, or even loss of a dream of motherhood, don’t understand that you never know how you’re going to react to a situation until you’re standing there.

You think you’d never use extreme fertility treatments…until someone tells you it’s the only option left to you. You think you’re a level headed person, who would never become obsessed with motherhood…until you’ve tried month after month after month and no one can tell you why you can’t get pregnant. And you think you’d never take a photo of a miscarried or stillborn baby…until it happens to your child.

There are people who think I’m crazy for the way I became obsessed about having a baby. There are people who say, “why don’t you just adopt?” to anyone who can’t have children of their own. And there are people who are appalled and condemn a woman who treats a miscarried child as if that child had lived.

To those people I say, “Walk a mile in those shoes.” Because you don’t know how you’ll react until it happens to you.

500 Posts…and Going Strong

Thanks to the new and improved WordPress software, I received a heads up at the beginning of this week that today would mark my 500th post on this blog.

500! That’s a lot of words.

So, I’d just like to take this opportunity to say thank you to all of you who keep showing up, reading my words, and contributing to this conversation. Thank you for keeping me going on my own journey and for helping one another of yours. Thank you for having the guts to share your most intimate feelings in the comments. Whether you realize it or not, you’re making a difference to other people who come here for solace and to know they’re not alone.

So, as a new year begins, I have exciting plans brewing for the blog. I intend to add some new voices to the conversation, include some practical guidance and some expert opinions on how to go about this whole coming-to-terms business, and I’m hoping to provide some more inspiration in the form of childfree women who left indelible legacies for the world.

I hope you’ll continue to come along  with me for the next 500 posts. And thank you for all your support. -x-

With Eyes of Faith…A Brand New Year

By Dorothy Williams

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD,

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.”

 

~ Jeremiah 29:11

I love that passage from the Bible, where God promises prosperity, hope and a future. Now that I understand the context, it’s one of my favorite verses to reflect on at this time of year, especially now that I have faced my own form of cultural exile as a childless woman.

The prophet Jeremiah spoke for God to people who loved the Lord, but nevertheless had been driven into exile from their homeland. At the same time he delivered a promise of welfare and not woe, Jeremiah also prophesied that the exile would last several more decades! Can you imagine a frail, little old lady, hearing this and shaking her veil?  She had, maybe, a few good years left on earth, so how could these promises be applied to her life? Since scholars say that the prophecy pointed to God’s plan for a messiah, perhaps she placed her hope on an eternal relationship with God, rather than a passing, earthly reality.

Like her, I also face an exile that I will not outlive.  After enduring pregnancy announcements from friends and family in my thirties, I now dread the upcoming “I’m going to be a grandma!” to a chorus of whoops and yells. As the mommy club keeps expanding (gosh, even women in convents use the title of Mother) so does my period of exile.

But unlike that frail lady in Babylon, I believe God’s plan for a messiah has been fulfilled. So when I reflect on the passage from Jeremiah, I think about the past year and see clearly how God provided welfare and not woe, in the here and now of my lifetime. I may not be delivered from exile but, like my brothers and sisters in Christ, I have a Messiah who walks with me through it, blessing me with a double portion of life’s goodness.

How do you approach this time of year?  What are your plans for the future?

Dorothy lives near Chicago.  She and her husband spend January weekends cross-country skiing the snowy, winding paths of forest preserves.

It Got Me Thinking…About Paying It Forward

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I think “FOR LEASE” are two of the saddest words of our time. When I saw the blinds drawn during business hours at our local butcher shop, my stomach flipped. When the sign appeared in the window a couple of weeks later, I fought tears as I stood outside on the sidewalk.

The owner is a young guy who grew up in this neighborhood. He set out to bring new life back to our community, to encourage new businesses to take a stake in the many vacant storefronts, to serve as a role model for independent, small businesses owners. He offered great products and personalized customer service with a dash of hope, and I loved supporting him.

I wish I could have done more. Now I wish I could bump into him because I have something to say, something I’ve been thinking about. My motivational speech would go something like this:

Joe, I know what it’s like to have a big dream, and I know how it feels to see that dream fail. You will figure it out. You will get through this. I have to believe that something better, something you haven’t even considered, is coming your way. I believe this experience will make you stronger, smarter, and more compassionate. I believe your life story will ultimately be one of success, a success of your own definition.

I haven’t run and lost a small business, but I did desperately want to be a mommy, and I lost my dream. With help from women like you who have shared your stories, your struggles, your inspirations, I am finding my way through the grief and into a new beginning. That’s experience I can pass on to Joe; this is one way I can pay it forward. Because the loss of a dream is a human experience, and whether we’re mommies or childfree women or downsized employees or neighborhood butchers, we can all relate to it and be supportive.

P.S. In grieving the loss of our wonderful butcher shop, I’ve thought more about how I can be a better neighbor, a better member of our community. I’ve decided that as one of my New Year’s resolutions, I will dedicate part of my groceries budget to support the local, independent shops. It will take more time and effort to run errands, but ultimately I think we all win. Consider how you might pay it forward in 2012 and share your ideas with us.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She takes issue with the idea that society still largely considers childfree women anomalies.

A Very Special Chero

I’d like to give credit to a very special Chero.

This woman works tirelessly behind the scenes, offering her support to her husband, his work, and his faithful employees. She lives in a harsh climate, cut off from the rest of civilization, but she doesn’t complain. She never seeks credit for her contributions and dedication, but instead allows her husband to bask in the spotlight.

This couple never had any children of their own, and yet, they’ve chosen to bring joy to millions of other people’s children throughout the world.

So today, I’d like to raise a glass of whiskey and a mince pie (or a glass of milk and a cookie, for my U.S. friends), to that wonderful Chero: Mrs. Claus.

It Got Me Thinking…About Thoughtful Holiday Greetings

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Last week, LWBer Dorothy Williams wrote about holiday cards in her guest spot, With Eyes of Faith…Birthday Jesus. She writes about why she chooses to send a card that celebrates the birth of Jesus versus “one of those cards” that trumpets family and children and seems to stab us right in the heart with our childfreeness.

It got me thinking about the worst holiday greeting I ever received. I was recently single again and in the throes of an if-I’m-going-to-be-a-mother-I-need-to-have-a-child-on-my-own-NOW panic attack. Friends’ cheery letters celebrated new homes, new babies, and full lives, and while I so wanted to be happy for them, each new photo was a painful reminder of all that I lacked and so desperately wanted.

In the pile of unopened mail one afternoon was a delivery from a long-time friend. In an effort to save time, she had mass produced address labels and affixed them to the envelopes. Smart. Mine was addressed to “The Guthrie Family,” although my friend had crossed out “The” and “Family” and written “Kathy” above. Not so smart. The insensitivity took my breath away.

I’ve talked to friends who have lost spouses to death or divorce, and they share a similar hurt when cards are inappropriately addressed. I want to shout “THINK, PEOPLE!” I know we’re all busy, I know this season is crazy, I know we are each shouldering our burdens, but please, take an extra minute, waste that extra stamp, and practice sending goodwill to all.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. When she can plan ahead, she prefers to send Thanksgiving cards.

Staying Strong

Recently, my resolve has been tested. A new baby in the family, the use of my baby’s name, and a firm reminder that my family is, and will remain, very different from the fantasy family I’d created in my head. But, here’s what I’ve learned about myself in the past couple of weeks:

I am one tough, resilient lady. Life can throw all kinds of crap at me and I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. Yes, the suit of armor that I’ve built for myself has its weak spots. Yes, there are holes in my life that I feel keenly from time to time, and my infertility is always going to be a tender scar. But, I am strong and I will survive. I may not have the life I’d planned, but my life is good and rich in ways I’d never imagined.

It’s these thoughts that I will stay focused on as we head into the holidays and onwards into a brand new year.

With Eyes of Faith…Birthday Jesus

By Dorothy Williams

You won’t be receiving one of those cute, holiday photo greeting cards from me this Christmas.  You know, the kind you get from relatives and friends, showing the perfect, smiling family with the caption, “Greetings from the Williams bunch!” 

 

There’s nothing wrong with those holiday photos, of course, and now that I am in the acceptance stage of my grieving process, I enjoy seeing nieces, nephews and children of friends grow into the healthy, beautiful adults that God designed.  But when you’re struggling with infertility, or finally coming to terms with the stark reality that God may have a different plan for your life, the influx of December mail can be awful.

 

I once dreaded opening my mailbox during the holidays as if tiny pipe bombs lay in there, waiting to explode with emotional shrapnel.  My hands shook as I opened each holiday photo card because I knew there would be another reminder that I was childless-not-by-choice, and it would take hours to process the raw feelings of rage and sorrow that welled up. I’m glad I didn’t say anything to my family during those years because it might have stopped the cards, preventing the joy I receive now. Instead, I shared my secret pain with a couple of trusted advisers, and of course, my best friend and Savior, Jesus. It was good to have a powerful friend who experienced deep suffering, too, and didn’t mind talking about it.    

 

So instead of sending one of those cards, I am sending a link to Birthday Jesus at the Skit Guys website as my holiday greeting.  Have you heard of the Skit Guys? They are the comedy duo of Tommy Woodard and Eddie James, best friends since high school, who now serve the Lord, making up wonderful stories about life in Christ.

 

I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas

   

Dorothy Williams lives near Chicago.  She sends out holiday greeting cards that celebrate the birth of Christ.

It Got Me Thinking…About Oprah

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Last night, I dreamt Lisa and I finally scored tickets to the Oprah show. I bought a new dress, flew to Chicago, and chatted excitedly with the women seated around me before the show began, trying to figure out why we were there. Was it the “Favorite Things”? Were we “Women Who Rock”? Several minutes into Oprah’s opening, it dawned on me that a hideous mistake had been made. From my seat in the second row, I looked over my shoulder and locked eyes with Lisa, who was a few rows back. We were there for the early taping of the “Mother’s Day” special.

The assistant producers apparently had googled “mother” to find guests, but did scant research to further qualify us. At least the two of us. I prayed there weren’t other women suffering through this like we were. The theme of the whole show was women getting up to congratulate each other for being wonderful mothers, to celebrate how special they were, to cry and laugh and share stories about their beautiful children. I was in hell. And I was stuck in the middle of the row. There was no graceful exit, so I choked back hot tears and stayed put.

I considered calling over a staffer to explain the mistake so that maybe I could make a statement, contribute something to the show, but I couldn’t imagine sharing my experience of being a childfree woman with a more unreceptive audience. Then, the assistants came out to hand every guest a Mother’s Day bouquet. I passed mine along. So did Lisa. If I’ve learned nothing else from years of watching Oprah’s show and reading her magazine, it was that I need to live my truth, and my truth was that I was not going to suck it up, accept the flowers, and pretend to be a mother just to fit in and make nice for everyone else.

I watched with my heart in my stomach as the staffers grouped together on the side, scanning the audience, trying to determine which two guests didn’t yet have their bouquets. I overheard one say that this would ruin the audience shot at the end, that every guest HAD to hold her bouquet. I tried to sit lower in my seat. I hoped my neighbor wouldn’t rat me out. The stress of it all finally woke me up.

As far as nightmares go, this isn’t the worst one I’ve have. But two hours later, as I sit writing at my desk, I’m still shaking. I am childfree by chance and circumstance, and I’ve been in situations where I’ve been stuck in a group of mothers and felt the need to play along. I’ve also been in situations where it’s been okay to speak my truth and have it heard. I don’t know why I had this particular dream scenario at this time, and I’m pondering its significance. I think, maybe, the message is that I need to better acknowledge and celebrate the beauty of my own life and the unique roles I play. I think, maybe, I need to go out and buy myself a beautiful bouquet.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She takes issue with the idea that society still largely considers childfree women anomalies.