Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: On Being [Childless]

I could whine about the hassle of moving, but that would be too easy. The memory of the blowout on Highway 5 is fading, the numerous cock-ups (such as packing my computer, but leaving the keyboard and mouse behind) are being resolved, and Felicity (my cat) survived the trauma and even came out from under the bedding today. But I do have something on my mind.

I’ve been thinking about being “bitter and childless.” It’s a horrible expression, but the two words so often get put together. I don’t think of myself as being bitter about my childlessness, but sometimes I hear a bitter edge in my posts here. Or more to the point, I can see how someone might interpret what I post as bitterness. That’s not what I’m about here.

By the same token, I don’t exactly celebrate my childlessness either. I’m not glad I don’t have kids; but I’m no longer sad either. Yes, sometimes when I see harassed mothers I think that I had a narrow escape, but I’m not really relieved by my escape. I’m not sad and not glad; I just am.

Maybe I should change today’s title from Whiny Wednesday to Waffle-y Wednesday, but there, that’s what’s on my mind today.

You?

Fathers Work Longer Hours Than Childless Men

According to this recent article from the Institute of Leadership and Management, fathers work longer hours than childless men. It states that:

One in three fathers work more than 48 hours a week compared to just 25% of men without children, according to a report by think-tank Demos.

The article doesn’t offer any explanation for this trend, so I’m tossing out a few theories of my own:

Maybe fathers, with numerous dependents, feel more pressure to do whatever it takes to stay employed. Maybe they have more distractions during the workday so need to work longer hours to get their jobs done. And there’s the other (perhaps cynical) theory that fathers spend more time at work so they have to spend less time at home being fathers.

I’d be very interested to hear your theories on this, too.

What I do find interesting is that I’d be willing to bet these statistics don’t apply to mothers, and that a similar study would show that it’s the childless women that put in the longer hours. If that’s the case, however, I suspect that says less about the parent/childless divide and more about the inequities of shared parenting.

What do you think?



Expressing Motherhood

Last week my friend Holly invited me to go and see her performance in a show in Hollywood. “I totally understand if you don’t want to come,” she said, “considering the topic.”

The show is called Expressing Motherhood and is advertised as “the national, sold out, on-going play, consisting of moms sharing stories about motherhood.”

She was right, considering the topic, I did not want to go. I could think of few worse ways to spend a perfectly good weekend night than listening to moms babbling on about how hard or how beautiful, or how life-changing, personality-altering, amazingly incredible being a mom is for them. I could picture myself sitting there yelling, “Cry me a river, ladies!” as some mom bemoaned her sleepless nights. Even worse was the fear of dredging up all those emotions I’ve worked so hard to get in line, and having to be carried in a flood of tears from the theatre.

Needless to say, I politely declined the invitation and Holly understood.

But earlier this week, I had a change of heart. As I’ve been telling friends about my book, I’ve realized just how many people who have been with me through the whole journey and have been so supportive and encouraging.

Holly is one of those people.

She listened to my woes when I was trying to get pregnant and she encouraged me when I decided to write the book. She even had the guts to come and tell me face-to-face, and with tact and consideration for my feelings, that she was pregnant when she knew I was not. If I was going to be standing on a stage talking about not being a mother, Holly would be sitting in the audience, whistling with her fingers stuck in her mouth.

So I sucked it up – woman’d up, if you like – and bought a ticket for Friday night’s show. I’m going on my own, so I won’t have anyone to embarrass if I do have to be carried out, and I’m going to support my friend.

I can’t say it’s not without some trepidation that I will make the drive up to Hollywood tomorrow, but if nothing else, it will be an interesting experiment, and you can be sure that I’ll report in!

Bye-Bye Baby Clutter

As part of my “New Year, New Me” campaign, I’ve been trying to unload some of the clutter in my life. Last week I went through the dozens of marketing emails I get every day and unsubscribed to the ones I no longer need.

I haven’t ordered from Victoria’s Secret in years, so I took myself of their list. I don’t ever remember ordering from a company called Shari’s Berries, so they’re gone too. And the company who sends me emails in Spanish (no idea what they sell) no longer has my permission to do so.

I’m also pleased to say that I’m parting with my residual baby clutter, too. When the regular newsletter from Adoptive Families came in, I scrolled right to the bottom and unsubscribed. Babies R Us got the boot long ago, as did the portrait photographer who got me on her list.

I also went through the Mystery Closet in my office. There I found a sample of diapers and some kind of baby journal. I didn’t even bother to look what it was. In the trash it went.

What I’m pleased to report is that I had no hesitation letting go of these things, and any sadness I felt about no longer needing them was, at most, fleeting.

It Got Me Thinking…About Speaking Up

By Kathleen Guthrie

I finished reading Lisa’s book, I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home, within 3 days of receiving it. It’s so good, I almost missed my train stop—twice. It’s so good, it made me laugh out loud and it made me choke up (also while still on the train). I could relate, it helped me heal, it inspired me to listen to my sister-friends and their stories with more compassion.

And it made me want to stand up and shout something like, “Hey, world! Infertility sucks, and we shouldn’t have to feel ashamed about it and keep quiet any longer!”

But here’s the thing: I was taught to be a good girl. A polite, respectful, look pretty and don’t-rock-the-boat kind of girl. Don’t talk back when someone suggests you must hate children because you don’t have any. Don’t be a smartass when someone asks why you’re waiting so long to make babies. Watch your tongue and don’t get lippy with me, missy!

Enough. I will no longer be shushed simply because I’m not a baby-maker. Lisa speaks for us through her raw, funny, emotional, controversial, honest, and page-turner of a story. Let’s follow her lead. Let’s hold our heads and the cover of this book up high to show family and friends—as well as marketers, advertisers, publishers, producers, and retailers—that we, the childfree women of the world, have voices, and we will be heard!

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Since she’s childfree, she can stay up till all hours of the night reading a great book.

Sonja Lewis Puts Childlessness into Perspective

Photo: ©iStockphoto.com/Bartosz Hadyniak

Sonja Lewis, who regular comments on this blog, has written a very insightful article about the stigma of childlessness and why it’s still such a taboo subject.

In the article she says:

“While today’s childless woman might not be singled out as readily as she would have been a generation ago, she’s still under pressure.”

Indeed she is! And Sonja goes on to cite five reasons she believes childlessness is still so misunderstood: it’s personal, unconventional, difficult, isolating, and anti-social.

Sonja has also used her research and her own personal experience to write an upcoming novel The Barrenness. It’s out this spring and I’ll be keeping an eye open for it.

If you’d like to read the full article, you can visit Sonja’s website or download it here.

You Waited Too Long: The Jennifer Aniston Syndrome

“You waited too long!”

Any of you heard that comment before? Well now it has a name: The Jennifer Aniston Syndrome.

According to this article on Babble, poor old Jennifer Aniston was just another of the “career-driven women [who] realize too late that it’s not always easy to get pregnant after 35.”

Hear that funny noise? That’s my blood boiling.

When I was 18 and head-over-heels in love for the first time, a teacher told my boyfriend and me that 18 was the height of a woman’s fertility and the perfect time to start a family. Yes, I am serious. This was during a conversation about our plans to go away to college.

Fortunately I didn’t listen to him, but maybe I should, because, by the time I was ready for a family, I was 34 and my eggs had other plans.

So what was I doing for all those years between 18 and 34? Striding my way to the top of the corporate ladder? Smashing glass ceilings? Taking the world by storm? No! I was looking for a man!

Because at 18 I could have married my college sweetheart and had his babies (I think.) He was a nice guy, but I know myself well enough to know that I would not have been happy in that life and would most likely have blown up somewhere in my mid-20’s and hurt all concerned. I know that because it’s exactly what happened with the next serious relationship (but without the babies, thankfully.) And the candidate after that didn’t want kids at all. I was 32 when I finally found Mr. Fabulous and 34 when we swung our family plans into action.

So did I wait too long to have kids? Yes!!! Of course I did! But not because I was trying to conquer the world. I waited too long because I know that motherhood is a serious and lifelong responsibility and I didn’t want to pump out babies with the first man that jiggled his pheromones in my direction.

Call me old-fashioned, or call me selfish, but don’t call me a career-driven woman who just waited too long.

Oprah’s Second Chance

Oprah Winfrey was one of the first guests on Piers Morgan’s new talk show this week, where she talked candidly about the loss of her baby when she was 14. Oprah has said in the past that she has no regrets about not having children, but this time she talked about how losing her baby was her second chance to turn her life around and make something of herself.

Love her or hate her, there’s no denying that Oprah has certainly made something of herself. She talked to Morgan about the chain of events – beginning with going back to school and becoming head of student council – that led to her becoming the person she is today. “None of those things would have happened and the whole trajectory of my life would have been different,” she said on the show.

Although I have no illusions of my own life paralleling Oprah’s, I have to say that it’s certainly taken some unexpected turns since that doctor told me I would never have biological children. I’ve started a blog, met women from all around the world, written a book, and been quoted in a magazine as an expert! Recently, another avenue has opened and I’ve been working with a therapist friend to develop a series of workshops to help women deal with the effects of infertility and childlessness (more to come on that soon!) None of these things were in my plans two years ago and certainly would never have happened if I’d merrily gone on to become a mother.

They say that for every door that closes, another opens, and I’m a believer. The motherhood door closed firmly for me, but once I picked up my chin and looked around, I discovered a whole host of opportunities waiting for me. While I don’t believe I was denied motherhood so that I could do these things instead, the converse is certainly true -none of these things would have happened if I’d had children.

Has your life changed for the better because you don’t have children? Have you had opportunities you wouldn’t have had if you’d been a mother?

A Barren Island in a Sea of Babies

When I look around my group of friends, I find that there’s about a 50-50 split between those who have children and those who don’t. I think I’m lucky in that respect. But when I look at my family, I see a very different picture.

I was really shocked to discover that among my relatives back in the UK, I am the ONLY one of my generation who does not have children and, as a family, we are a pretty fertile bunch. I have one uncle who never married or had children, but all my other aunts and uncles (nine couples), every single one of my 21 cousins (including my brothers), and many (at least seven) of my cousins’ children all have children. The only one who doesn’t is me.

As I live a long way from my family, I’m rarely in one of those big family get-togethers that highlights my childlessness, but even from this distance, I feel odd. I can’t help but wonder why I was singled out for infertility. Clearly, it doesn’t run in my family!

There are benefits to my status, though—I am more accessible to my nieces and nephews, and I also have the flexibility to spend long periods of time with my mother, especially as she gets older, but I still feel sometimes like the oddball in my family.

When you look around at your extended family, are you the only one who doesn’t have children? Or are you surprised to find you’re not alone?

Making Room For Other People’s Children

I recently read Ian McEwan’s book, Enduring Love. In the story, the main character and his long-time partner are childless-not-by-choice. It’s not particularly relevant to the story, other than it colors their characters and their interactions with other people and their children.

McEwan writes that the couple had made room for children in their lives. They were godparents and had many other young relatives and children of friends who were a part of their lives. They even kept a spare bedroom in their apartment, and encouraged regular visits from the various children.

I found this arrangement strange. Although I still love children and have several who are a part of my life, I can’t imagine having the kind of relationships with other people’s children that would warrant keeping a spare room and regularly inviting them to stay.

So I’m wondering, what kind of relationship do you have with other people’s children? Have you literally made room for children in your lives? Or do they just come along as accessories to your friends and relatives?