You’re hosting a dinner for a group of friends at your home. Some of the guests are also childfree/childless, but some have little ones. How do you deal with the friends who have kids?
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Guest Blog: Advice
This morning, a close friend sent me Kyran Pittman’s blog posting “Advice for a Teenage Daughter I Will Never Have.” It got me thinking.
I used to fantasize about how I’d raise my children to be good humans. Along with my DNA, I’d share with them my passion for reading and love of team sports. I’d encourage them to invest a portion of each check from their summer life-guarding and part-time retail jobs, so that after college they’d already have a nest egg that would allow them to pursue careers in the arts, backpack through Asia, get into the housing market, or at least not starve while toiling away as a junior executive’s junior assistant.
I’m a font of wisdom earned from 44 years of life experience. Now, it seems, because I’m not a mother, no one is interested in hearing from me. Do you feel that way? If you had children, what advice would you give them? And since you don’t, what advice are you now taking to heart for yourself?
Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Her articles have appeared in AAA’s Westways, GRIT, Real Simple, and 805 Living magazines. Read “How to Be the World’s Best Aunt Ever” on eHow.com.
Silent Sorority: A (Barren) Woman Get Busy, Angry, Lost and Found
I just finished reading Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos’ book, Silent Sorority: A (Barren) Woman Get Busy, Angry, Lost and Found. I give it two very enthusiastic thumbs up! With class, dignity, and humor (oh, yes, and an appropriate amount of bile), Pamela not only tells her own story of infertility, but is able to step back and provide an intelligent social commentary on our mommy-centric culture and what it’s like to be childless-not-by-choice when everyone around you is baby-mad.
As I read her story, I found myself slapping my forehead, thinking, “I did that too,” and I realized what I wish I’d known long ago, that I was not alone on my own journey. As Pamela says, infertile women “were everywhere, but nowhere.”
What makes Pamela’s book stand out from other infertility stories I’ve read is that (aside from her not “giving up on treatments and suddenly having a miracle pregnancy”) she talks about the “what now?” how she gained acceptance and found a place for herself in the world.
This is one of those books that I wish I could give to people I know to read. It’s a book that says, “This is what I went through, this is why I was behaving that way back then, but you know what? I’m okay now.”
If you haven’t read this book, put it on your list. It’s an eye-opener. And while Pamela might not yet have all the answers to our questions, she’s starting the conversation about living childless/childfree, and giving us a voice.
You can find Silent Sorority in print at:
Or as an e-book from:
Borders (via Kobo)
Who’s going to take care of you when you’re old?
“Who’s going to take care of you when you’re old?”
This is one of those arguments that’s easy to shut down if anyone suggests it as a reason for having children. One peek in your local nursing home, or frankly, on the streets of any major city, will give you all the evidence you need that having children is no guarantee that you’ll be taken care of in your old age. But with all possibility removed, do you have plans for your later years?
I think about this from time-to-time, but I don’t yet have a good solution. My husband is 15 years my senior and so in theory I should outlive him. My family—brothers, nieces and nephews—is on another continent. I have good friends, including a circle of women who are also childless, and some of us have talked about taking care of one another as we age. But I wonder what will actually happen to me
A recent obituary stated that so-and-so (I can’t now remember who it was) had passed away at 93 years old, surrounded by close friends. My husband, being cynical, pointed out that she was wealthy and famous, and therefore drew plenty of close friends hoping for their share of her inheritance. Trying to out-cynic him, I pointed out that that’s usually what happens but with distant relatives coming out of the woodwork for their share of the financial pie. But the point is, that that is how I want to go, surrounded by people who choose to be with me.
So, plan A for my future is to be nice, take care of my friends, and hope that they will take care of me. Plan B is to become rich and famous and buy my friends. Either way, I hope to not grow old alone.
Have you given any thought to what will become of you in your old age? Or do you have a plan all laid out? I’d be interested to hear.
The Jealous Child: Me
The problem with emotions is that they never behave themselves. Just as you get one set all sorted out and under control, another set bubbles up and catches you off guard. And so it was this past weekend when that evil emotion jealousy crept up on me when I least expected it.
My hubby and I were at a local fair, and of course, had to find a present for our granddaughter (yes, although I don’t have children, I do have a granddaughter by marriage.) Let it be said that I love my granddaughter to bits, but being a childless grandmother is not without its challenges. I’ve got to the point where I can shop for baby clothes, baby furniture, diapers, and toys, and keep it all pretty much together, but this weekend I didn’t. While deciding on a dress for her, I snapped at my husband; I grumbled; I yelled, and basically pouted like a two-year-old. And then my husband called me on it.
“You’re not jealous of her are you?”
“Of course not!” I said, and then shuffled off to have a little talk with myself.
Oh, sisters, I must tell you that it’s pretty horrible having to admit to yourself that you’re jealous of an 18-month-old. My logical, adult mind is talking through it and saying all the right things, but some little voice deep inside me is throwing a tantrum. Maybe it’s because I’m the baby of my family (by 11 years) with two older brothers, and I’m used to being indulged, maybe even a little spoiled. That’s okay; I turned out all right in spite of it. Maybe I don’t like having to share my husband. Or maybe somewhere I’m still bitter that I don’t have a baby of my own and that it’s my child who should be the one being spoiled.
I’ve been mulling my reaction for a couple of days now and it finally dawned on me. There’s a natural progression in life: child becomes parent, becomes grandparent, and sometimes becomes child again. I’ve never made it out of Stage I. I’ve never experienced that moment of knowing that I am now wholly responsible for another human life. I am still, at some level, the child.
I love that I am still somewhat childlike, that I’m willing to take on an adventure, try something new, not worry too much what others think of me, but am I still childish? Well, that just won’t do; I’m a grandmother, for Pete’s sake!
I think this is going to require a little more soul-searching. Any thoughts?
“Dealing with Infertility” Free E-Class
Lily, over at The Infertile Mind, is really clued into the emotional aspects of being childless-not-by-choice. She hosts a free e-class about dealing with these emotions and recently invited me to drop in to see what she’s up to.
Even though the class is aimed at dealing with infertility, the exercises she teaches can be used by anyone who is childless-not-by-choice. We all go through many of the same emotions. Participants work through a series of exercises at their own pace, but within a small community of likeminded women. You can choose to participate in discussions or just quietly work through in your own time. The exercises are all based on Lily’s own experience of dealing with infertility and moving on with her life without children.
One of my favorite exercises was about dealing with jealousy (see tomorrow’s post for more on this particular topic!) by listing all the things you envy about a person, and then listing all the things you don’t envy about them. What an eye opener that was! And it made me laugh—at myself—which is always a good thing.
Lily will be hosting another free class running October 4th through November 1st.
You can sign up here: http://www.infertilityeclass.com/Register.html
or get more information here: http://www.infertilityeclass.com/FAQs.html.
The class is private and password-protected, so you can safely let it all hang out, so to speak.
Childless and Happy. Reason #17: Camp Cards
Since making my “decision” to remain childless, I’ve come across plenty of reasons to feel good about it. Here’s the latest good reason: Camp cards.
While out shopping for several belated birthday cards (you know who you are and I’m really sorry, but they’re now in the mail) I came across an entire section of the card shop devoted to camp cards. Curious, because I love a little campy humor in my greetings cards, I pressed in for a closer look, and recoiled in horror! Wrong kind of camp! What I faced was half a wall of sappy cards with things like, “Even though you’re away at camp, you’re never far from our hearts,” and “We miss you. Hurry home from camp.”
My first thought was, “You have got to be kidding me. Is there no event that the greetings card industry won’t take advantage off?”
I answered that by making a mental list of all the childless/childfree events and milestones that will NEVER see an appropriate greetings card. “Happy Non-Mom’s Day.” “Sorry to hear about your crappy ovaries.” “Congratulations on your decision to become a social pariah!” (It was a heavy PMS day and I was a little bit cranky, ok?”)
But my parting thought, as I scurried away from the offending section was, “How sad that these cards exist. What a shame that modern day parents need to assuage their guilt for packing their kids off to camp. Thank goodness I’ll never have to buy a card like that.”
It’s a small reason to be glad, but the harder I look, the more good reasons I find.
Good Morning, Australia!
Or should I say, “G’day!”
I’m very pleased to have been invited to write some guest blog posts for the fabulous childless.com. au. This is a really great Australian website that deals with all aspects of life from money to health to pets to my favorite subject: food. What you won’t find is advice on finding a pre-school, dealing with a finicky toddler, or the top ten gifts for your babysitter. Finally, a safe zone.
Along with all this fun stuff you’ll also find articles from other childless and childfree bloggers, including yours truly.
Here’s my first post for them: 10 Tips for Being Happy and Childless. Hope you enjoy it.
Creative Therapy
Today I finished making the final edits to the book I’ve been working on for the past six years. (Hard to believe it’s been that long!) When I started writing, my story was about all the ups and downs of trying to get pregnant, and although I say it myself, it was pretty funny. Of course, as my personal story kept growing, the book kept growing and growing, and getting less and less funny, until finally I couldn’t bear to write any more. I put the whole thing down for more than two years.
Eventually, I got to the place in my head where I was ready to tackle it again. I tossed out the entire original manuscript and started over from page one. Talk about a therapeutic cleansing. Now it’s done and I’m really pleased with the story I’ve been able to tell. But here’s something interesting: writing the story was a form of therapy for me. I relived every moment and sometimes it was painful. OK, a lot of times it was painful. But when I started editing, that changed. With every edit, I became less and less attached to the story. As I moved from the creative process of writing to the more analytical process of editing I gained distance from the story, until I was finally able to read the entire thing with almost no emotional connection.
I believe that writing the book has really helped accelerate my healing process. I can now look at my experience objectively and understand it, even see what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown from it. Suddenly that experience is not just something terrible that happened; it’s not something valuable. That’s something I never expected to happen.
Have you experienced the therapeutic benefits of writing or some other creative outlet? What worked for you and how has it helped? I’m a believer in creative therapy now. Are you?
Finding Childless Allies
On a recent trip home to England, I reconnected with an old school friend I haven’t seen in 25 years. It was so much fun to reminisce. I remembered her cat, Othello, long gone, and the trip we took on a canal barge; she remembered that I made her run with me on Sunday mornings and that my bedroom was always a mess. It was also fun to catch up on our lives since then and to see what’s changed and what we have in common. For instance: she’s been married to her high school sweetheart for 19 years, has worked in the same job for 21, and lives about four houses away from where she grew up. I’m on my second (and final) husband, have had more careers than hot suppers, and live 6,000 away from where I grew up. But we have lots of things in common, too: we both love to travel, we’re both close to our mothers, and neither of us has children.
The latter topic did not come up in conversation.
Our mothers know one another and so I’ve heard that, “she’s had some problems” and I’m sure she’s heard some variation of that about me. And yet, we didn’t talk about it. Here is a woman who actually gets what it’s like to not have children, a woman with whom I once shared all my secrets, and yet neither of us brought it up.
Maybe it was our heightened sensitivity to the subject that stopped us from asking personal questions, or maybe our newly rediscovered friendship was just not ready to risk stepping into potentially dangerous territory.
Have you had this experience of finding an ally and then being unable to talk about your shared issues?
