Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Confessions of A Childless Daughter

I have a confession to make.

My mother doesn’t know about this site.

She’s just now finding her way around the Internet, so it’s probably only a matter of time before she finds me. I’ve even sent her and e-mail with the link in my signature, but either she hasn’t twigged on, or she’s too polite to mention it.

When I was back home in England this past May, I promised my friend that I would tell my mum about my blog, but even when she asked what I was working on, I chickened out. It’s like being 14 again and trying to pluck up the guts to tell her I’ve been invited to a party with a boy.

But I’m not 14; I’m 40, so why can’t I tell my own mother about something I’m really proud of—this website?

Do any of you suffer from being unable to talk about yourself, your work, or your childlessness, even to people you trust?

The Shame of Childlessness

Recently, a friend confided that shame plays a big part in her life because of her childlessness. She told me:

“I think my Mom is embarrassed that I never had children, especially since there is “no good reason” why I didn’t.   It somehow reflects on her–her nurturing, her mothering skills, etc.  Instead of seeing it purely as my choice, there is a negative connotation for choosing not to have kids.  I think it is the same negative aspersion put on women who never marry. What is wrong with her?”

If you’re childless-by-choice, have you experienced this kind of shame? Are your family and friends supportive of your decision?   What about if you’re childless-not-by choice? Does shame play a role in your life too?

Your Amazing Childfree Life

Recently, I had a revelation. I’m not going to have children. Big news, I know, but the real revelation came in the idea that, if I wasn’t going to be a mother, I must be destined for something even greater.

I have several friends who have big dreams. One has a natural ability for spotting new musical talent, another would love to quit her accounting job and become a landscape architect, and at least two others would love to go back to school and earn their degrees. But they all have children and their obligations prevent them from following their hearts. For some, their dreams are on hold for now, but for some, they’re on hold forever.

We don’t have those obligations. Yes, we have bills, partners, jobs, and assorted other things we have to do, but we don’t have other human beings relying on us for food and shelter. In a lot of ways, it’s very freeing.

Several of you have already made a leap in your life and gone back to school or changed careers, but let me ask you: If you could be or do anything you wanted, what would you do? And if you’re not going to have children, are those things now a real possibility?

Dealing With a Pregnancy Announcement

Here’s an article I wish I’d found a long time ago. It’s about how to deal with a friend (or relative) announcing a pregnancy. If you’re childless-not-by-choice, this kind of news can trigger some of the worst human emotions—jealousy, rage, feelings of injustice, and worse. I know I’ve thought, (or maybe even said) “It’s not fair. Why her? Why not me?” It’s a terrible thing to think about someone you like or care about.

I like this article because the author turns it around and makes the news not about “me and her” but about the friendship and what the news will mean to both of you. She says:

A friend’s pregnancy may arrive like a bolt from the blue, but once you’ve caught your breath you can use this new event as an opportunity to think more purposefully about what you need and can offer in a friendship. Remember to keep the emphasis on mutuality, on open communication and also on expanding your friendship network in new ways.

Yesterday I got the news through the grapevine that a friend I’ve known for more than 30 years is pregnant. She struggled with infertility, gave up, lost a relationship, and finally settled into a new life with a new partner, who is already a father of two, and accepted that she would never have children of her own. Surprise! Suddenly she’s pregnant.

At one time, this news would have set me off on a personal rampage against the Universe, but when my husband tentatively asked me how I felt, I replied with all honesty that I was happy for her because I know she wanted this, that I was worried about her because of the potential health problems she might have, and that I was concerned about her mental state having finally come to terms with her infertility and started building a life without children. What I want to do now is contact her, congratulate her, and offer whatever support I can from across the other side of the world. I want my friend to be okay. That’s a far cry from the teeth-gnashing banshee I might have turned into a few years ago. I’m calling this progress.

A Magazine for Non-Moms?

I recently received my monthly copy of Runner’s World, to which I’ve subscribed for years. This month they had an article about training for a half marathon that featured five real-life runners. For each runner, the article listed their name, age, occupation, running goal, and…the number of children they each had.

What? What does the number of children have to do with how fast they run? I scanned the article again looking for my answer, and found it: Nothing! It was completely irrelevant. What’s more, when I looked at each runner, trying to find the one who was most like me, I saw that they ALL had children?

I tried to figure out what message the author was sending, intentionally or otherwise. That childless people have nothing but free time to train? That childless people don’t run? That only people with children read the magazine? It made no sense.

Then my friend mentioned that she has recently cancelled her longtime subscription to a popular women’s magazine because the articles were all mommy-focused, even though the magazine touts itself as “the total-life guide for every woman.” What a shame that’s every woman but the childless.

Is there anywhere for us to turn? Do you have a favorite magazine that’s geared to women and not just women with children? Let us know.

And attention magazine editors! There is a big audience out here looking for a voice. I’m just saying…

“Getting Over” Infertility

We’ve talked a lot about how to get over being unable to have children and for those of us who are childless-not-by-choice it’s an ongoing effort.

I came across this article today about Infertility’s Double Whammy, when friends begin having grandchildren. The article gave me little encouragement, but it does fall into the category of forewarned is forearmed. The author warns:

The continuity of fertility can leave you feeling totally excluded from the great human cycle, for ever outside the loop of life. And what makes it especially hurtful is that people blithely assume that you have ‘got over’ your disappointment by the time you have reached the age when your contemporaries are becoming grannies. As a result, those same people can be a lot less sensitive about the fact that infertility is not just an issue in your 30s and 40s, but can also come back to haunt you in your 50s and 60s.

This is something that wasn’t even on my radar. My plan for this is to make sure I’m on a tall ship in the middle of the Indian Ocean or searching for lesser spotted dodos in the Amazon when my friends’ babies start having babies.

Has anyone had this experience of grandbaby envy yet?

Hello, My Name is….

I always try to make the posts on this blog relevant to the main topic of life without baby, but some days I’m just blank. Wednesday was one of those blank days, so I wrote about natural treatments for insect bites instead. I thought twice about even posting such a random thing, but guess what? It was the most popular post of the week!! At first I was dismayed, but after some thought I realized something important: we don’t always want to talk about not having children.

For those of us who are childless-not-by-choice, the constant conversation can wear on us, but for all of us, being childless is not what defines us. Imagine walking into a party, striding up to a stranger and saying. “Hi, my name is [your name] and I don’t have children.” Although some might see it as a great pick-up line, most people would say something like, “oh, that’s nice,” and excuse themselves as quickly as possible, because if that’s all someone has to say about themselves, odds are they’re not going to very interesting.

Not having children is not all we are, so I thought it might be fun to introduce ourselves, with some interesting tidbits–break the ice, so to speak. I’ll start and you can jump in with your own personal trivia. I’ll also open up a Discussion thread on the forums in case you don’t feel like introducing yourself out in public. So here goes:

Hi, my name is Lisa and I’m a writer, runner, and gardener. I can recite the alphabet backwards and was once my county orienteering champion, which means I’m a handy with a map and compass. I love to experiment with cooking, especially spicy ethnic food, such as Indian, Middle Eastern, and Southeast Asian. I love to travel, and my favorite U.S. cities are New York, New Orleans, and Seattle. The most amazing things I’ve ever seen are Machu Picchu at sunrise, the Trevi Fountain in Rome, and a herd of elephants walking 20 feet from my car in South Africa. I love to dance, but am not good at it, and I’m learning to play the bagpipes–and I’m really not good at that. I love my cat, I couldn’t have mail ordered a better mother than the one I have, and my husband can make me laugh until I snort. If I could have any food from anywhere in the world right now, I’d have a freshly baked New York bagel—everything with cream cheese and lox. If I could be anywhere in the world right now, I’d be hiking down from a mountain in the English Lake District, just about to take off my hiking boots and dip my feet in a cool stream. I don’t own a TV, a microwave, or a dishwasher. And yes, I have no children either.

Number of women without children soars, study finds

Number of women without children soars, study finds.

I found this article very interesting, especially as a great discussion on this exact topic ensued here a couple of days ago.

While I’m not exactly happy to hear that our numbers are swelling (because I’m concerned that at least some of this is due to rising infertility rates) I’m always glad to see the discussion being had “out there” in the public eye. The more we talk about this, the sooner being a woman (or a man) without children will become less of a taboo subject.

Childless or Childfree?

This is a debate that rages in my head often and I know it’s going on out there in the world, too. Are you childless or childfree?

I used to refer to myself as childfree as my way of stating that I made a conscious decision about my life. The problem is that “childfree” always had the suggestion of a narrow escape, or that I’d been cleansed of something unpleasant, like being germ-free, or living rent-free. Occasionally I come across parents or children that make me feel like I had a lucky escape by not having kids, but usually that’s not how I feel. So, recently I’ve switched to using “childless” instead, but that has the opposite connotation, that I am missing something that makes me less than whole. Again, aside from those odd times when the hormones fare up or one of my triggers is flipped, I consider myself to be a whole and fulfilled woman.

So what do I call myself? I’m looking for a term that suggests no affiliation to any faction, including parenthood.  Something that suggests my independence and my wholeness. Any suggestions? How do you refer to yourself?

Menopause and Childlessness

If you haven’t visited the Forum lately (or ever) you’ve missed some great discussions amongst members. I’m learning so much from other people’s experiences and I’m also really touched to see strangers rally behind one another and be so supportive.

Sometimes topics of conversation come up and I have absolutely nothing to contribute. For example, Carollynn posted this comment on the “How have you come to terms with being childless” discussion:

Replying to another entry, I wrote something about my response revealing my age, which made me reflect on the fact that I’m in menopause… Yet eager to tune in to a web site about choosing to be childless. Does it seem to anyone else that there’s a disconnect here? That maybe I’m not so okay about it if a year after “the change” I’m still looking at this? Has anyone else reached this milestone who’s writing? Maybe in fact it is the transition that has me thinking about it and being involved.

This is a fascinating line of thinking and I’d be very interested to hear from anyone who’s in or has been in that position, to know if this transition into menopause changed the way you felt about being childless.