Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

The Night Watcher

This weekend I went to see Charlayne Woodard in her one-woman show The Night Watcher. The play is a made up of a series of short stories about the relationships she shares with the many children in her life, and it was fascinating.

Charlayne “missed the small window of opportunity” she had to have children of her own and chose not to adopt. She makes no bones about the fact that she and her husband (and dog) can spend Sunday mornings in bed reading the newspaper and drinking Bloody Mary’s because they don’t have children, but also that she is able to play an important role as auntie and godmother to a lot of other people’s children.

It was  so refreshing to see this point of view in a public forum and I laughed out loud at some of her scathing observations, and blinked back tears at others. Charlayne touched on many of the subjects we’ve brought up on Whiny Wednesdays – how when you don’t have children, someone is always trying to “fix” that; how she’s judged as being something less than a woman; and how her opinion is so quickly dismissed, even by a mother who is all but absent from her own daughter’s life. I related to her experiences and appreciated her frankness.

I’ll admit, though, that the show was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster to watch. I found myself flip-flopping along with Charlayne between lamenting the joys I was missing by not having children, and appreciating the life I have. And of course, it brought the subject of our own journey back up to the surface again, and got me and Mr. Fab talking about it, which isn’t always pleasant, but is nonetheless beneficial.

The Night Watcher closes here in L.A. this coming weekend, but if you get a chance, get out to see it. Don’t forget your chuckle muscles and your Kleenex, though.

Chero: Annie Edson Taylor

I was skimming through a children’s book called Women Daredevils, and I came across some fascinating cheroes. One of my favorites was this woman, Annie Edson Taylor.

As a 63-year-old widowed schoolteacher, whose only child had died in infancy, Annie was facing a future of poverty. She needed to do something drastic in order to survive, so in October 1901, she decided to supplement her income by becoming the first person ever to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel.

Luckily, she survived to tell the story, but while her get-rich-quick scheme brought her fame, the money didn’t follow. She died in poverty at the age of 83.

Perhaps Annie isn’t exactly the kind of chero we want to turn to for inspiration, but for sheer guts and foolishness alone, I say, “Hurray” for the Queen of the Mist.

Getting Through the Holidays

I spotted this article in a couple of places this week, but here’s the Huffington Post’s version. It’s about coping with the holidays when you’re going through infertility, but I think that many of the points apply to any of us who are facing the holidays without children.

Here’s some of what the authors have to say:

  • Decide which events you’ll attend and know you don’t have to go to everything you’re invited to.
  • Think about how you’ll handle being around children, new babies, and pregnant relatives. Here’s a post about that.
  • Decide how you’ll handle the prying questions about why you don’t have kids yet. You know they’re going to come, so be prepared. Here are some ideas on that.
  • Start a new family tradition of your own (I highly recommend this one.) Here are some fun ideas on that front.

The point is, the holidays are supposed to be fun for everyone, including you! So don’t let some Grinch (even an unwitting Grinch) ruin it for you.

If you have other ideas for surviving the holidays, please post them here. We could all use a little help at this time of year.

Whiny Wednesday: Baby Ads

During my TTC years I bought a couple of magazine subscriptions, one for Conceive and the other (rather optimistically) for American Baby. I can’t prove this, but I’m pretty sure that one of them sold my name to a marketing company, because not long after that, I started getting baby related mailings. I received samples of formula and diapers, and ads for baby photographers and maternity wear. It was awful, but it didn’t stop there.

The marketing company seems to have got the impression that a baby arrived in our house at some point and so sent age-appropriate marketing as the years ticked on. It’s been five or six years now and the mailing have definitely slowed down. This year I only got a few catalogs for educational toys and mommy clothes, and brochures for a pre-school and a Disney cruise. But come the holidays, it all fires up again.

As if my mailbox isn’t already crammed with sufficient junk, I’m now getting fliers for family photos cards, and photographers who seem to think that the ideal gift is a portrait of my little brood. Little do they know that it consists of me, Mr. Fab, and a cat, and only two of the three would be willing to wear silly Santa hats.

It’s Whiny Wednesday, there are only 18 shopping days left ‘til Christmas, and I’ve already got my Bah Humbug on already.

It Got Me Thinking…About Holiday Slights

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

“Come One, Come All!” trumpets the headline.

I’m skimming the special calendar section of our local paper and find myself drawn into a description of a holiday spectacular and crafts fair, featuring actors as classic Dickens characters and carolers strolling in Victorian dress as they sing in the season. I am so there!

But then I read the small print: “Revelers (that’s me!), particularly families (uh, wait), are invited to enjoy the festivities.” It’s possible I’m being over-sensitive, but I am so sick and tired of slights like this, and it seems to strike an especially painful chord with me as we approach the holiday season. The “Family Sing-Along” at church. The “Family Pot-Luck” intended to bring coworkers closer together. The “Family Movie Night,” where multiple generations come together to enjoy a touching holiday-themed film. I love love love all of these fun activities, and will participate even though I’m not a 5-year-old, even though I am not part of a “family.” It’s sad to me, though, that my revelry is diminished by the sting of not feeling legitimately part of the event, all because of a marketing choice.

While I don’t want to get PC (politically correct) to the point of ridiculousness, I’d like to suggest to the world that there are other ways to welcome everyone without making single and/or childfree people feel…well…unwelcome. “Fun for all ages!” “Something for everyone!” The marketers for the fair had me at “Come One, Come All!” I wish they’d left it at that.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. “Mele Kalikimaka” might be her favorite Christmas carol.

Writing to Heal

“I write to make peace with the things I cannot control.  I write to create red in a world that often appears black and white.  I write to discover. I write to uncover.   I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams.  I write to remember.  I write to forget.  I write to quell the pain.  I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know.  I write as an act of faith.  I write to the music that opens my heart.”

~ Terry Tempest Williams

I love this quote. It sums up everything I feel about the art of writing. Whenever I have one of those days when I wonder why I ever decided to become a writer, or what the point is of my putting the thoughts that are in my head down on paper, I pull out this quote and remember.

When I first started this blog or when I first had the thought that maybe I should write a book, I hadn’t yet found this quote. I just felt an urge to write about what was going on with me. But it turns out that the process touched on every aspect of the quote.

Writing has helped me come to terms with being unable to have children, something that was completely out of my control.

I have definitely discovered and uncovered a lot about myself through writing, and I’ve certainly touched on the areas of being childfree that are far from black and white.

I’ve written myself out of my nightmares and found a way, not to forget, but to move past the nightmare of infertility by committing the stories to paper (or screen.) And I’ve most certainly confronted aspects of myself that I did not know.

If you’re still trying to work through your own thoughts and feelings about not having children, try writing. Even if you don’t want to air your dirty laundry in a blog, get yourself a journal, or ask for one as a gift, and just write. Don’t try to make it good writing, don’t even worry about doing it every day, or finishing a thought. Just write. It will help to clear your mind of all the clutter and sort through some of those feeling that don’t always make sense.

Whiny Wednesday: Doctor-Patient Confidentiality

I’ve had  a bad back for a couple of weeks now, so I went to a new doctor for the first time. Here’s the conversation we had (roughly) and keep in mind I went in for a bad back:

Dr: Do you have kids?

Me: No.

Dr: Are you married?

Me: (in my head) What the hell does this have to do with anything?)

Me: (out loud) Yes.

Dr: (moments later) Have you had kids?

Me: No.

Dr: Any pregnancies?

Me: No.

I considered explaining my situation, but the guy’s a chiropractor for God’s sake and he has my file right there, so I let it go. A few minutes later I’m standing with my pants around my ankles getting a back x-ray.

X-ray Tech: Are you pregnant?

Me: No.

X-ray Tech: Is there any chance you could be pregnant?

Me: No.

X-ray Tech: When was your last period?

Me: (gives her the date)

Short pause while she does the math.

X-ray Tech: Ok, I’m going to hang a plate in front of you to protect your ovaries.

Me: (in my mind) Don’t waste your time; they’re already fried.)

Me: (out loud) OK.

So, maybe I was a surly patient. I chalk it up to my bad back. But sometimes I don’t feel like explaining why I don’t have children, not even to my doctor.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. I’m cranky about doctors; what’s under your skin this week?

It Got Me Thinking…About Loser Parents

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

This week as I was leaving the parking lot of the grocery store, I watched as a toddler wandered one direction across a lane of traffic and his mother, pushing a stroller with a baby, walked in the other direction…into oncoming traffic…because she was texting.

By some miracle, no babies, mommies, or motorists got hurt. I, on the other hand, was boiling with indignation. Why why why do I have to pay for a license to work as a writer (on my oh-so-dangerous laptop), while this idiot is given the responsibility of two precious lives with no vetting whatsoever just because she can reproduce? Why does this LOSER get to be a mother, and I get jack?!? Life is so unfair!

I want to scream: Pay attention, you dumbass! Don’t you know how blessed you are?

 

I know if I had children, I wouldn’t be a perfect parent all the time. But I know I would be better.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Most of the time she’s at peace with her decision to be childfree.

The Art (and Benefits) of Lying

Dorothy sent me this article recently (thanks Dorothy) from a woman asking “Dear Coquette” for advice on what to say when people ask if she has children. Dear Coquette’s answer? Lie.

 

I had to laugh out loud when I read this, because it has never occurred to me before to lie about not having children. It’s brilliant!

 

Now, granted, if you’re talking to someone you’re likely to see again or who might otherwise find out the truth, then it gets tricky, but if you’re at a cocktail party or some social situation where you’re basically making small talk with strangers, then why not make something up? I mean really, you could actually have some fun with this,

 

I envision clipping photos of kids from magazines and putting them in one of those fold-out wallets, then when someone asks if I have kids, I’ll whip out the pictures and say, “Why, yes! I have five. This is Mai, Uri, Owen, Bea, Senise.” (Say it fast; extra points if you get it.) Then I can start in on what a horrible time I’m having because the baby has a very delicate digestive system. I really think this could work.

 

What do you think? Could you lie to a stranger? More to the point, would you?

 

Oh, and I must just say that while I think this suggestion is inspired, I happen not to agree with her suggestion that saying, “I can’t have children” will shut the person up. In my experience, it’s more likely to open a whole conversation about adoption. I think it’s much more fun just to lie.

Lucky Me

In her wonderful post last week, Dorothy talked about the idea of getting a double dose of something else good to make up for the child-shaped holes in our lives. I’ve been thinking a lot about that idea, especially as we tick towards Thanksgiving.

 

I don’t really consider myself unlucky. Sure my plans for having children didn’t work out, but I have so many other things going for me. And as a general rule, I feel that luck is usually on my side.

 

So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, here are the top 10 things I am thankful for today:

 

10. My health, which is having its off-days lately, but in the big scheme of things is good.

9. I need to lose a few a pounds instead of having to worry about where my next meal is coming from.

8. I get to work that I love (most days.)

7. Clean flannel sheets. They’re one of life’s greatest indulgences.

6. I live 3 minutes from the Pacific Ocean and on a good day I can almost smell Hawaii from my back yard.

5. My friends, near and far, who make me laugh, or think, or who just listen

4. My family. Mad as hatters, all of ’em, but they’re pretty special.

3. My cat, who was good enough to pick me for an owner, and who loves me in her own strange kitty way.

2. My mum, who is about as good as a mother any daughter could ask for and is coming to spend Christmas with us.

1. My husband, who isn’t perfect, but is pretty flipping marvelous despite his flaws.

 

Feel free to join in and add your own list.