filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
This post was originally published in April 2013 and it still makes me sad. You can see the original post and comments here.
Overheard outside my local café last week:
“I have three kids and I hate all of them.”
Can someone please explain to me why this jack@$$ gets to have the privilege of being a parent when so many lovely people I know (including myself) don’t?
It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s got you spitting nails this week?
This post is an oldie, originally posted on April 26, 2012, but I think it’s worth a rerun. You can see what others had to say here.
There are two questions I get asked frequently: How did you come to terms with not having children, and how long did it take?
The answer is something akin to “how long is a piece of string and how many knots can you tie in it?”
Believe me when I tell you that if I could write down ten easy steps to making peace with being childfree-not-by-choice, I’d do it, but the answer isn’t that simple. Yes, there were many things that happened along the way that helped me make some peace, but it took closer to 10,000 steps than ten.
Writing down my story was hugely cathartic, venting about the injustices on this blog helped, too. Realizing I wasn’t alone in this and that people like you were out there wanting to talk through the minefield has helped immeasurably. Drawing a line in the sand and saying, “This is where that chapter of my life ends and this is where I start healing” also helped. And frankly, telling myself a big fat lie that I was better off not being a mother actually helped me to realize that in many ways I was. Setting new goals, appreciating the benefits of not having kids, and allowing myself to feel bitter and badly treated when I needed to. All these things helped.
I don’t think there’s a formula for working your way through this, and it’s definitely a journey of making forward process and dealing with inevitable setbacks.
As for how long the process takes? How long is that piece of string? It’s been three years for me and I consider myself largely at peace with my situation. I have closed the door on the idea that I will have children someday and most days I’m good with it. Everyday it gets a little better and a little easier. Some days there will be reminders of what I’ve lost and sometimes a flicker of a thought of “what if…”
The truth is, in many ways, I expect this piece of string to go on forever. The experience of infertility has changed me. It is one of the most significant and life-changing events of my life, and I don’t think the repercussions of that will ever stop reverberating. It doesn’t mean I won’t find harmony and even happiness in this new life – I already have – but I don’t expect this journey of coming-to-terms to ever fully end.
Here’s a Whiny Wednesday from October 2013. You can see the original post here.
A college friend just posted a photo of her son and his date all dressed up for the homecoming dance.
It got my attention because the “kids” weren’t much younger than my friend and her now-husband when I first met them, and, as the boy looks like his father, the photo reminded me of them and how flipping long it’s been since I was in school.
It also caused a pang of sadness for another experience I won’t get to have. I won’t get to send my teen off on his first date or take a photo of him and realize he’s a carbon copy of his dad.
It’s Whiny Wednesday, and today I’m feeling whiny about how unfair life can be.
I’m immensely grateful to our guest bloggers who take the time to share their stories and point-of-view. This guest post from Solo Girl touched a hot button topic. You can read the original post here.
By Solo Girl
I have a large extended family; we have to rent a hall on Boxing Day so we can all get together. And now all those sisters and female cousins are newly married and reproducing. Every time a baby shower comes up I’m invited, and I wrestle with myself over whether or not I should be able to go yet.
I’ve always been supportive and encouraging with my family, happy to celebrate in another’s happiness. It’s been four many years since my dream died, and I get the sense that I’m expected to be “over it” by now.
Unsure and not wanting family to think I’m selfish or emotionally immature, I went to a cousin’s baby shower about a year ago. I mentally prepared myself ahead of time. For example, I’m terrified of flying, but I know that there is lift-off, food, a movie and a landing, and then it’s done. I thought about how there would be food, presents and games at this shower, and then it would be done. I thought to myself “I should be able do this, even my own Mom is expecting me to go.”
I thought the worst part would be the games, but I was wrong. It was the chitchat. I actually got stuck between my mother and a cousin having a conversation on the couch about how all the women in our family have long labors. Seriously. When I got home I wrote myself a note in black marker and stuck it on my kitchen pin board where it still remains today: “You never have to go to another baby shower ever again. No one will notice; no one will care. It’s torturous. Don’t Go. Don’t feel guilty”.
But a year later I still get shower invites and I continue to question whether I am – or should be – ready to attend now. And I want to know, is it ever going to be something I can attend? And what can I tell my family that will help them understand how painful it is to attend without sounding like I’m feeling sorry for myself after all this time? They have high expectations of me, and I really do think they mean well. I was in a deep depression four years ago, and I think they are trying to make me normal again. I think.
I’m glad Irina Vodar is producing a documentary on the subject of infertility that some helpful social norms will come of it.
How do you handle these situations?
Solo Girl lives on her own with her 2+ dogs in Ontario, Canada. She focuses her time on volunteer work and fostering rescue dogs.
The post originally went out on May 22, 2013 and generated some unexpected whines. You can see them all here.
Last week I hopped on Netflix after something a hiatus. I was in the mood for a movie, but had nothing in mind, so I was delighted to see that Netflix had come up with a Top Ten Suggestions for me. This is what they thought I would like to watch:
Friends with Kids
(Synopses courtesy of IMDb): “Two best friends decide to have a child together while keeping their relationship platonic, so they can avoid the toll kids can take on romantic relationships.”
The Pill
“Worried that he has gotten the free-spirited Mindy pregnant after an unprotected one-night stand, Fred feigns romantic interest and sticks by her side for twelve hours to make sure she takes both doses of the morning-after pill.”
The Switch
“Seven years after the fact, a man comes to the realization that he was the sperm donor for his best friend’s boy.”
Apparently Netfilx is keeping a close eye on my online activity, but like the old Google ads for baby products that used to pop up on this site (before I cut them off!), I don’t think understand me at all.
It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s causing you to shake your head in dismay today?
Earlier this week I was invited to join a conversation about “No-Mos: Women who aren’t having children” for CBC’s Day 6 radio show. I was joined by Melanie Notkin, author of Otherhood, and Laura Scott, who heads the Childless-by-Choice Project.
I am enormously grateful to the show’s host for providing this space for an intelligent conversation about the realities of being a childless woman in our society, and to my co-interviewees for speaking out so articulately on this topic.
You can catch the show today on CBC 1 at 10 am (10:30 am NT) or Sunday at 1 am. It’s also on Sirius XM today at 10 am ET and 7 pm ET, and Sunday at 6 am ET. You can also listen the segment podcast here.
This post was originally published on April 4, 2012 and generated the most comments of any post! Read what everyone had to say here.
Kathleen’s post about mistakes and well-intentioned people got me thinking about people who really ought to just mind their own business.
A few years ago, when I my glorious plans for motherhood were just beginning to come crashing down around my ears, Mr. Fab and I went wine tasting. As a rich, fruity cabernet was hitting my bloodstream and making my crappy world feel better, a woman (whose world was feeling a little too good) leaned over and said, “Should you be drinking?”
I was confused for a moment, until I realized she was peering at my belly. Admittedly, I’d put on a few stress pounds over the previous year, but I was beyond mortified that she’d mistaken my bloat for a pregnancy, especially considering that was the one thing I was truly aiming for.
I’d like to tell you that she realized her mistake immediately, but alas, she had to ask me twice – the second time for everyone around us to hear.
So, while I agree that most people are well-intentioned when they make a faux pas, in some cases, people just ought to keep their traps shut and mind their own damn business.
It’s Whiny Wednesday, ladies. Let ‘em fly.
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“When I was a little girl,” Heather says, “I always wanted to have a baby, just one.” But she was not able to be a mother, first by chance and later through choice when she chose to stop pursuing infertility treatments. Now 39, Heather and her husband are embracing their own Plan B, a childfree plan. Here’s her story.
LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood.
Heather: I had dreams of loving, caring, and teaching my child all about life. I wanted to be a mother who gave my child humor and memories, a mother who would support and enjoy my child’s journey in life.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Heather: After the last IVF, they called to tell me that my levels had turned low—meaning a miscarriage. I went upstairs into my bathroom, took everything from the IVF and bagged it up, took it to the trash, and told myself that enough was enough. I needed to get myself back.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Heather: Being excluded from my friend’s lives when they talk about their kids. Or being left out of the birthday parties because I don’t have kids, so they think that I won’t want to attend. (I buy the best gifts!)
LWB: What have you learned about yourself?
Heather: That I love my quiet time. That I don’t have the patience for kids around me all the time. I believe that there are places kids should not be—salons, swanky restaurants and bars, concerts—and I enjoy going there.
LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?
Heather: Just because I don’t have children of my own, doesn’t mean that I don’t “like” them. I am a great aunt, a great friend to young teens that my friends and family have. I want people to know that I wanted kids, it just was something that was not meant for me to do.
LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”
Heather: This question still bothers me. I usually just say “No, I don’t have kids.” If people would leave it at that…but most of the time they follow that with “Are you going to?” It depends on who asks and the situation itself, but my favorite answer is “No. Do you?” It usually takes them aback, and I smile deep down.
LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)? What about her inspires you?
Heather: I read an article a couple months ago about stars who don’t have children. Cameron Diaz stated that she doesn’t have kids, and she has a great life because of that. It makes me happy, because my husband and I have a great life, we are free to do what we want, when we want. I lean on that when I feel bad for myself.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
“Our Stories” is taking a short hiatus until September. If you’ve enjoyed reading the column and would like to add your voice to the conversation, we’d love to hear from you. Sharing your experience with others makes you realize you’re not alone, and your story could help someone who is struggling to feel heard.
Please visit the “Our Stories” page to find more about the column and get information about how to share your story. ♥
It’s Whiny Wednesday and this week we have another hot button topic suggested by a reader:
The men who wasted our fertile years
Whether it’s the relationship you fought hard to make work, the “perfect” man who never quite grew up, or the spouse who suddenly decided fatherhood wasn’t for him.
If you have one, you can whine about it here. If not, the floor is open, as always, to all topics in whinification.
Thanks to everyone who has contacted me with Whiny Wednesday post ideas. I have a good list now, but keep them coming. You can send topic ideas through the Contact page.
This week’s topic is another tender subject:
The constant struggle of feeling my life is imperfect because of not having children.
How do you feel about this? Has that feeling changed with the passing of time?
As always, the floor is open for any other whines and rants you need to get off your chest.
~ "a raw, transparent account of the gut-wrenching journey of infertility."
~ "a welcome sanity check for women left to wonder how society became so fixated on motherhood."
