Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayI’m currently enjoying a journey into menopause. Yeah, it’s a hoot. All the symptoms of PMS, plus fuzzy head, weight gain, night sweats, the works.

I’ve been reaching out to older friends for advice because there’s a lot about this I don’t know. Most of my friends have gladly offered support, however one woman (a friend of a friend) looked at me and said, “Menopause? You’re too young for that.”

I assured her I was not, and left the conversation, but really, is that a helpful thing to say? Yes, I know I’m too young for menopause. Add it to the list of things my body’s given up before its time. And then ask me how I feel about the possibility the rest of me might be aging faster than it should too. Does this ever end?

As you may have guessed, it’s Whiny Wednesday. I feel better for my venting. Hope you feel better for yours.

Asparagus, hope, and living childfree with no regrets

IMG_1666About this time last year I wrote a post about planting an asparagus bed. For me, this commitment to a long-term project signified a change in my outlook, and a sense that I had finally moved through a long period of uncertainty and could really think about my future.

I now have to confess that the asparagus suffered some neglect under my care. It grew and flowered, but then I ended up traveling a lot and by the end of the summer my poor bed was largely weeds, with a few brown plants.

I felt disappointed in myself for letting it go and I even questioned whether perhaps it was better that I didn’t become a mother, because how could I care for children if I couldn’t keep a few plants alive? Stop me if you’ve had this talk with yourself.

Then, over the winter, we had rain (not much, but some) and last month I spotted something green and delicious-looking among the weeds. Sure enough, I found six tender young asparagus shoots. I snipped them off, steamed them up, and ate them plain. It was by far the best asparagus I’ve ever tasted.

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Given that my asparagus bed has become a metaphor for my journey through non-momhood, I’m looking for a message, and here’s what I see:

I see that even when the surface looks like a big, weedy, hopeless mess, something wonderful and hopeful might be going on underneath. I see that even the minimal amount of care can be enough to nurture something good. And I see that making a commitment to a future you want will result in something positive, even if the journey doesn’t go according to your plan.

And now I’m looking forward to next year, because those six spears have shown me possibility, and next year I know I’m going to have a bumper crop.

 

This Friday, April 4th, I’ll be speaking on a panel at the Fertility Planit show here in Los Angeles. The topic of the panel this year is Living Child-Free with No Regrets, and I’m honored to share the stage with Tracey Cleantis of La Belette Rouge and psychologist, Lynn Newman Zavaro.

I have some guest passes for the show that I’d like to offer up to you. I do want to note that the show is aimed at those still trying to conceive and it’s a wonderful resource for that. However, if you’re in the “trying to come to terms” stage, you may find it difficult to be in what could be a very triggering environment.

If you think you’d like to attend (and say hello) please send me an email through the contact page, and I’ll hook you up with tickets.

Our Stories: Karen

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesLike many of us, Karen* held out for Mr. Right. By the time she found him and married him, it was too late for her to realize her dream of being a mother. However…he came with two teenagers, and Karen found herself in the unusual position of being a (step)mom, but not a mom. She once shared with me that at times it seems easier to let other people assume she’s their mom, but it leaves her secretly feeling a little bit like a fraud whenever she is invited to activities such as Moms Night Out.

Now “47 and holding (lol),” Karen has a different perspective on the childfree life she leads.

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

Karen: Two kids—one boy, one girl—and a white picket fence.

 

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Karen: I’m childfree by chance because I didn’t meet the right person soon enough. But I do have stepkids, which requires a lot of work (their mom is not there to help much).

 

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Karen: My stepkids are almost raised. Now I’m looking forward to travel with my hubby. And I’m looking ahead to grandkids one day.

 

LWB: What was the turning point for you? (Either when you gave up on the dream of having children or when you felt you were able to move forward with a Plan B.)

Karen: Raising stepkids. I treat them as my own. Also, I was at a group event, and I was trying to somehow fit in with the wives of my husband’s friends. All they talked about were their kids and the teachers and other kids I didn’t know. I was soooo bored and wanted to escape, or at least have a conversation about some current event or travel or anything except their boring lives! I know I probably sound like a hater, but it’s how I felt—lol! A single dad finally came over and said, “God this is boring. Where are the cocktails?” I loved him for saying that.

 

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children of your own?

Karen: I feel like I missed out on one of life’s big moments.

 

LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?

Karen: “Look at the advantages.” For example, I didn’t have to go through pregnancies and births. I have more freedom to work, to be with my hubby, and to travel.

 

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Karen: “I have stepkids, which is enough for me.”

 

LWB: What is the best advice you wish you could have given your younger self?

Karen: “Trust that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.”

*Not her real name. We allow each respondent to use a fictitious name for her profile, if she chooses.

 

Won’t you share your story with us? Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

Finally Being Heard

220px-JenniferAnistonFeb09I was so pleased to read this article by Anne Kingston in Maclean’s.

Anne contacted me last week to say she was writing an article about stereotypes surrounding single women without children, but after interviewing some of the women featured in her article, she decided to reframe the piece. What resulted is a powerful conversation about how women without children are no longer accepting being a silent minority.

Some of my favorite women are featured in this piece and what struck me most is the calmness and intelligence with which they speak. These are certainly not women being brushed into a corner and pitied.

I know that all have us have felt silenced and dismissed at some point because we don’t have children, but I really do believe this is beginning to shift, and with more conversation will come more understanding. We just have to keep insisting on being heard.

You can read the full article here.

Our Stories: Tanja

 As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesTanja and her husband worked hard to be financially stable and to create an environment that would support children. She always wanted a family and dreamed of the daughter she would have, the little girl she could dress in cute outfits and play Barbie with; she and her husband had picked out names. But infertility has taken a toll on her dreams, and now 34, she describes the current stage of her journey as “angry, frustrated, out of plans, and crawling toward acceptance.” Here’s more of her story. 

 

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Tanja: After four failed IVF attempts, I have to acknowledge that these procedures are not working for us. We cannot continue living our lives in limbo, living from one IVF cycle to the next and thereby putting our lives on hold. The fact that we have pursued every medical avenue that was available to us—multiple times—and they have not worked gives me some comfort. We tried our best, and now we need to find a way to move past this nightmare.

 

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Tanja: There are many hardest parts for me. Here are a few: (1) I feel like an outsider, no longer a part of normal society. My friends and family who chose children all have them, whereas I do not. (2) I cannot contribute to conversations that my friends have, as all they seem to talk about is their offspring. I fully understand that children are a major part of their lives. I do, however, try to swing the conversation in another direction in order to chat about something that we can all contribute to, but it always goes back to the kids. We do not have this aspect of our lives in common, and I often feel like the odd one out when we get together. (3) When my friends eventually tell me that they are pregnant again, they tell me and then add that they feel so sorry for me. I really find it difficult to listen to them talk about their pregnancy fears. (4) I remember generally having a wonderful childhood with my family and was so looking forward to encountering similar experiences with a child of my own. (5) I feel like I have let my husband and our parents down. (6) I am an only child and, as such, my parents will never be grandparents. I see how my mother looks at other people’s babies, and this makes it even harder for me.

 

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Tanja: Generally, I just answer “No.” If people continue questioning, I sometimes add that it’s not by choice. This normally stops the conversation.

 

LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?

Tanja: “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.” It may not be how you always envisaged your future, but it will be alright.

Won’t you share your story with us? Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy 4th Anniversary to Us!

This week marks the 4th anniversary of Life Without Baby. Happy birthday to us!

Sometimes I can’t believe I’ve been tapping away for four years. Time really does fly. And as this birthday ticks around, it’s good to stop and take a moment to look around at where I am now and how far I’ve come.

Those of you who’ve been reading for some time will undoubtedly have noticed the change in the tone of my posts over the years. I’m not so angry any more, I’m bemoaning less the injustices, and I’m finding far more to cherish and enjoy in a life without children. Yes, it’s taken four years (plus some time before I started blogging) but my “life without baby” is all right.

Over the years (and I think especially over the past year) I’ve also noticed a change in how vocal we childless/childfree/sans kid women and men are becoming. When I first started blogging, I found Pamela at Silent Sorority and Tracey at La Belette Rouge. Like me, they were telling their personal stories of coming-to-terms and recovery, quietly and for a small audience of readers who wanted to hear it. We were cautiously stepping into the public eye and speaking about our stories, but (for me, at least) on the personal front, I still carried a lot of shame surrounding my infertility. I hedged when people asked me if I had children, and when I talked about my work, I rarely mentioned this community or my book. I didn’t want the people I met to know about that very personal side of me.

That’s changed for me over the past four years as those feelings of insecurity have fallen away. It’s not been an easy journey, but I’m no longer ashamed that I cannot and did not have children. It’s just another facet of the whole human being I’ve become.

I’m seeing a change in the infertility world too. Where once the option of childfree living was taboo, I see more and more people considering it along with their other family-building options, and finding resources and community to help them.

Last year I spoke on a panel at the Fertility Planit show here in Los Angeles. The panel on “letting go of having genetic offspring” including the childfree option alongside donor eggs and adoption. I’m speaking at the show again next month, but this time the panel title gets right to the point: “Living Childfree with No Regrets.” I’m truly encouraged that this option is now being given serious consideration and that others coming to the end of their fertility journeys won’t be shunted out into the cold to figure out alone how to come to terms with their unexpected lives.

Hearing other people’s stories and discovering I’m not alone has been one of the most important steps in my healing process.  Talking to other women who “get me” has been an enormous source of comfort, and I hope it has been for you, too.

As the site goes into its 5th year, you’ll see a new regular feature, the “Our Stories” series. I hope this series will give those of you who want to be heard the opportunity to speak out in a safe place and share your stories with others. It’s incredible how having a voice can help your own healing and encourage others.

On this birthday, I want to send a huge shout-out and thank you to Kathleen for her incredible support. You’ll have seen her column “It Got Me Thinking…” every Friday, but behind the scenes, she’s been a constant source of ideas and encouragement as I figure out what’s next for this site. She’s also the brains and the editor behind “Our Stories.” Without her help, I’m not sure I’d have maintained the stamina to keep writing for four years!

I also want to thank you. I don’t often chime in on the comments these days, but I always read them, and I’m continually inspired and touched to see your willingness to support one another on your journeys. Thank you for your support of this site.

And so, who knows what the coming year will hold? I hope you’ll stick around to find out.

~Lisa xx

Our Stories: Lisa

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesOne of the most touching aspects of our Life Without Baby community is our willingness to openly, candidly share our stories. Together we’ve learned, grown, sympathized, encouraged, accepted, and celebrated. What a gift!

We want to encourage more story sharing, so we are launching this new column space, and our brave and beautiful leader, Lisa Manterfield, has agreed to be our first interviewee. We’ve learned a lot about and from her as she’s shared the stages of her journey here on Life Without Baby. Read on for a few of her insights, then consider sharing your story through the link on our Our Stories page.

Lisa always wanted and expected to have children, but knew it had to be with the right person. She was 34 when she married “Mr. Fab” and believed she still had plenty of time. Initially she thought his vasectomy reversal might put a wrinkle in her plans, but it turned out her own infertility was the real issue. Now 43 ¾ years old, she has fully accepted that she won’t have children, and she can see the opportunities she has had because of it. Lisa has chosen to answer the following questions.

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Lisa: If you’d asked me this three or four years ago, I might have answered feeling like a social outcast, not relating to friends, not leaving a legacy or having someone to leave my stuff to, not experiencing the joys of shaping a little human, never experiencing pregnancy…the list goes on. But I think if I went back to that list every six months or so, I’d find myself crossing things off. Most of the things that used to be so hard don’t seem so important anymore, and I’m really enjoying the advantages of not having children.

 

LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?

Lisa: It wasn’t so much advice as a passing comment that stuck. A friend hinted that she and her husband had had fertility issues, didn’t have children, and now she realized they were okay as a family of two. Her comment struck me on two levels. Firstly, it caused me to rethink my definition of family and I realized that, yes, I too already had a real family, just a small one. I’d always thought of us as a couple who wouldn’t be a real family until we had children, but that wasn’t true. I also saw in her my first infertility survivor, and I knew that if she could say she was okay, I would too. It was a big shift for me.

 

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Lisa: I’ve learned that I’m incredibly resilient. I now know from experience that I can go through whatever life might throw at me and come out the other side in one piece, and perhaps even stronger than I was before. I’ve learned to be less judgmental of others, because you never know what personal hell someone is going through at any time. My experience has made me more compassionate towards others who are hurting too. I’m much more likely to stop and take the time to reach out to a friend in need.

 

LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?

Lisa: Everyone’s journey is so different that it’s almost impossible to give advice. How do you tell someone it’s time to give up on a dream? That stopping point is different for everyone. I might advise someone like me to decide ahead of time which options she’s prepared to try and how far she’s willing to go and for how long, but in reality, you do what you do, you get caught up in hope and a growing desire for success, and the last thing you’d want to hear is someone telling you to stop and accept that it’s not working. So, I’d just offer support instead. It’s much more valuable than advice.

 

LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?

Lisa: I’ve been working hard for a long time now on another big dream—to be a fiction author—and this year, I feel as if something good is going to happen to me. That resilience I talked about earlier has come in very handy, as I seem to have a habit of picking dreams that I can’t fully control. It’s been interesting to see how much of my experience of dealing with loss has come through in my latest novel, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with infertility. So maybe this will prove to be the silver lining of my experience. I hope so.

You can read more of Lisa’s story in her award-winning memoir, I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home, and find out what she’s currently working on at LisaManterfield.com.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

My Perfect Imperfect Life

Courtesy Hasbro Games

Courtesy Hasbro Games

I’ve been taking a fantastic creative writing class at UCLA Extension. Each week, we start off with a writing exercise from a choice of prompts, and last week, one of the prompts was, “I’m tired of pretending my life isn’t perfect.” I almost took the prompt.

It’s not hard to write about the part of my life that is so obviously imperfect: the fact that I wasn’t able to have children. I could (and do) write about that broken bit. But if I took my life apart, I’d find lots of areas that aren’t perfect. Isn’t every life like that? Everyone has challenges, and life would probably be dull without them. But part of the thrill of living is overcoming life’s challenges. Without the obstacles there’s no glory of victory.

My life is flawed in many ways, as all lives are, but it’s also a good and happy life, and on the whole it’s pretty close to perfect. And it’s hard work to keep clinging to the idea that it isn’t. It’s tiring to keep feeling bad about the parts of my life that didn’t work out as planned.

I didn’t get to have children, and it’s true that, for a long period of time, it made my life feel empty and deeply flawed. But that changed over time. I worked to overcome that flaw, to seek and take advantage of the silver linings, to work through my sadness—by writing, in my case—by gathering this community and sharing our stories. My marriage made it through infertility. That’s a victory in itself. And while there are still many challenges in my life, few of them are related to my childlessness anymore.

So, yes, I am a flawed human, with challenges to face, but I no longer wish to pretend my life isn’t perfect, just as it is, warts and all.

(And by the way, I didn’t take the prompt because there was another that sparked an idea. I’m glad I took that one instead, because that exercise turned into short story instead.)