Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Fruit of the Tree

OrangenBy Amelia Ricardo

Several years ago, I began researching my family history. I began the process for the same reason many of us do: Curiosity. I was curious about genealogy because I wanted to prepare a proper history to pass down to my own children. The more I began researching and the bigger my family tree grew, the more excited I became about what I was learning, and how proud I would be to one day pass down my findings to my children.

Except I’m not going to have any child to receive this information.

A few months ago my husband and I came to the realization that parenthood isn’t going to happen for us. Financial woes and health issues have choked out a chance to continue the family tree, to bear new fruit.

Over the years, as I did my genealogical research, I always tried to expand the tree’s limbs and branches as far back as possible. No matter how distant the relative, I always believed that every branch mattered, and therefore every fruit from them also mattered. How disappointed I was when no children were had by an ancestor, and that his or her branch did not continue.

I’m going to be one of those dead-end branches. In decades to come, will the branch of my husband and me be overlooked? Will we be non-important because we didn’t produce any fruit?

Yes, I grieve for not being able to buy baby clothes, for not being able to comfort a crying child, and the other gazillion reasons.  But what I seem to mourn the most is not being able to be a growing part of my family tree. I grieve for being a branch that doesn’t extend. I grieve that the stories I’ve collected and the heritage of which I’m fiercely proud will not be shared with my own children. I’m still struggling with this realization.

A few weeks ago as I pondered this realization, I thought of my great-aunt Annie who died single and childless. Almost 50 years after her death, she’s still remembered fondly by all in my family, remembered for her courage, altruism, and strength. And among all of her 13 siblings, she is probably the most memorable. Was it being single and childless that helped mold her into this individual and leave such an indelible legacy on our family?  I don’t know.

Some of history’s most influential women never had children. Florence Nightingale, Susan B. Anthony, Emily Dickinson, Jane Austen, and Julia Child are just a few. Their branches of the family tree did not bear fruit. Yet they still managed to influence countless others—including those who are of no relation. They are important limbs in a larger tree, and their fruits are in forms other than offspring. Their fruits are their writings, their culinary artistry, their caring for the sick, and their advocacy of women’s rights.

Does this realization erase all the sadness I have? No. But perhaps it’s worth reminding myself that not all-important branches must bear fruit.

Amelia Ricardo lives with her husband in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. As she tries to accept a life without baby, she keeps herself busy with freelance writing, blogging, and many other projects. She blogs about her unabashed Olympic obsession at OlympicFanatic.com.  

Life Without Baby welcomes guest bloggers. To find out more, please see the Writers’ Guidelines.

 

Because I Don’t Have Kids

face and hands of beautiful womanStocking up on some Christmas cheer last week, I was asked to show I.D. for my purchases. Never one to begrudge being carded, I pulled out my driver’s license and showed it to the young assistant.

She gave it a quick look, did some math, and said, “Wow, you look good for 42.”

Even as my ego puffed up faster than an inflatable Santa lawn ornament, a quip sprung to my lips.

“That’s because I don’t have kids,” I almost said.

It’s true I only have a few errant gray hairs and my worry lines are small and faint, and it’s also true that friends my age who do have kids generally have a lot more gray than me under their highlights.

So, I wonder, is it genes that have kept the gray away, or was the young woman just a bad judge of age, or could looking younger be a perk of not having kids? What do you think?

POF Support Group/The Fertility Planit Show

newspapers showing extra extra messageIf you’re dealing with Premature Ovarian Failure/Primary Ovarian Insufficiency and you’re in Southern California, a local IPOFA support group invites you to join them.

“We talk about HRT and medical issues related to POF, but we also talk about the infertility side as well,” says the group’s organizer. “Even if you don’t have POF, you are welcome to join us as long as you don’t mind a little HRT chatter from time to time. A lot of us are childfree by circumstance. And it’s very casual – just chatting over coffee.”

The peer-organized group meets monthly, alternating between Los Angeles and San Diego. The group’s next two meetings are:

Saturday, January 12, Noon-2:00pm

Bread & Porridge

2315 Wilshire Blvd, Santa Monica

www.breadandporridge.com

 

Monday, February 11,  7-9pm

Peet’s Coffee & Tea, Point Loma

955 Catalina Blvd, Suite 103, San Diego

www.peets.com

You can find more information about the group at their website: http://poisurvivorsgroup.blogspot.com/

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In other news, I will be speaking on the topic of “letting go” at The Fertility Planit Show this weekend. You can read more about what I’m doing there in this post.

I’m very aware of the awkwardness and delicacy of discussing a fertility education event on this site, so if you’re in the thick of coming-to-terms and trying to move forward, please stop reading now.

If however, you’ve arrived here by accident, you know someone who is trying to conceive and would appreciate this event, or you’re just curious, I do have a few guest passes for the show. If you’d like to attend as my guest, please register here. My panel is on Sunday from 3-4pm, so please be sure to drop by and say hello.

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If you have news of support or information meetings, or other events that might be of interest to our group (please keep them relevant to the childless/childfree topic) please send me the information and I’ll be happy to post it.

You’re Not Alone: Communication

By Robin

Communication.

It’s an enormous word, or at least its impact is. What a difference communicating makes. It opens up an entire world of reality. It lets people in. This is one of the reasons some people choose not to communicate. Sometimes it’s so much easier to assume than actually go through the process of finding something out. This is something I am guilty of.

After my most recent miscarriage, I pushed my husband away.  I was in so much pain and didn’t know what to do. I had lost hope and wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back. At one point my husband and I sat down and told each other that, with my outlook (all hope is lost) and his outlook (we can try again when we’re ready), we were wearing on one another. Neither of us could take much more of the opposite. With this said between us I stopped communicating with him. I didn’t want to cause him pain because I was in enough of it for both of us. I was also in fear that he would leave (even though he NEVER gave me a reason to think that.) It wasn’t until I realized by NOT communicating I was making things worse that I decided to try communicating how I felt and tell my husband what he could do for me while I was hurting. First I had to figure out how I felt and what I needed, but then I had to communicate it to the person I wanted and needed.

When I chose to communicate, a world of happiness followed. I realized I had assumed most things wrong. Even the few things I may have assumed correctly weren’t nearly as awful as I’d thought, and most made more sense with a little explanation. My husband told me the reasons behind why he had the outlook he had (way more positive and filled with hope than I could ever muster right after losing my baby) and that he wanted to take away my pain, “fix it”, because he loved me. He reminded me that we don’t get this time back and he wants to enjoy every moment of our life together with or without a baby in it. I realized he can see his future with or without a baby and, even though he’ll be happier with one, he’ll be ok either way. I, on the other hand, still can’t bring myself to seeing a future without one. (Note to self: I need to work on this, just in case.) I needed my husband to remind me we’re in this together, whatever “this” ends up being.

Communication has brought my husband and me closer. It brings us all closer to those we communicate with. It brought back happiness in my life and relationships. Things that used to bother me aren’t as important anymore. They aren’t worth being bothered over. I’ve never been happier I communicated my feelings and what I needed. First I had to figure those two things out which is a struggle of it’s own. BUT when you figure out what you need and how you feel, I highly recommend communicating and sharing those things with the people around you. The people you feel the safest with and know and love you. Also share with them how you need them to respond or not respond to the way you feel. Sometimes all you need is a listening ear and not a solution. Many times the people who care about you want to help you any way they can. I needed to tell my husband there wasn’t a solution to keep me from grieving. I just needed to stop running and feel these emotions right now in order to get through them. I had to let him know all I needed from him was a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. Communication is a wonderful thing and I hope you, too, find happiness or peace through it.

I wish I had realized the importance of communication sooner because since I communicated with my husband, and he with me, we have felt as close to each other as we did when we were newlyweds. We haven’t felt this way for years. I know my grieving isn’t over and who knows what feelings will come when/if we try again or decide we’re through and begin our own life without baby adventure. What I do know is that if we continue to communicate openly and honestly we will be much happier and most likely see the next 10+ years together.

 

About Robin: I live in New Hampshire with my husband of 10 years and our 4 year old dog, Samuel Adams, aka Sam. We have been trying to conceive through IVF for a little over 2 years. We’ve been through 6 cycles resulting in 3 failed attempts along with 1 ectopic pregnancy and 2 miscarriages. We are currently taking a break after our last miscarriage in August 2012. We are taking things a day at a time and trying to reconnect before making a decision whether or not to try again in the New Year. If you’d like to follow my blog as I write about our journey, come check it out at www.miraclesinwaiting.com.

 

Editor’s Note: If you’d like to see your story in “You’re Not Alone,” check out our Guidelines for how to submit.

Whiny Wednesday: Rule Breakers

Whiny_WednesdayMr. Fab and I had a truly fabulous Christmas. For the first time ever, we went away, just the two of us. It was bliss, absolute bliss, and I think it’s going to become our new tradition.

On Christmas Day, we went to the zoo and treated ourselves to a behind-the-scenes tour. It really was a treat, as we got to get up close and personal with some fascinating creatures.

We almost abandoned ship, though.

When we arrived, we were mortified to find that our tour included a HUGE family of 13, including at least 8 or 9 of the most unruly, out of control kids, accompanied by a set of adults that seemed to have forgotten they had kids at all. The kids were fighting, breaking things, and completely ignoring the pretty important safety rules (such as don’t move fast in front of a cheetah as it will think you’re a juicy bit of prey and hunt you down at 70 miles per hour.)

To our dismay, when the guides split the tour group into two, our lanyards matched that of the family’s. So, we did a bit of rule breaking of our own and slipped in behind the other group. There, we followed behind a delightful family, with three lovely, well-behaved children, where we got to enjoy watching their excitement at feeding a rhino and petting a kangaroo almost as much as our own.

Pity the poor folks in the other group, though.

It’s the first Whiny Wednesday of the New Year, and I know you’ve got some leftover holiday whines. Now’s your chance to let them all out.

It Got Me Thinking….About A New Year’s Chero

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A toast to wonderful new beginnings and a world of possibilities!

As a kid growing up in Southern California, I was obsessed with the Tournament of Roses Parade that took place every New Year’s Day. My family secured seats in the bleachers one year, and my college roommates and I sat in the front row when our UCLA Bruins played in (and won) the Rose Bowl, but most years the tradition was to stay in pajamas, cuddle up in blankets, and eat breakfast in front of the TV. I loved the princesses (I’m practicing the wave right now), the horses that marched and pranced, the beautiful, flower-covered floats.

That’s why I couldn’t wait to see what the float designers would do with this year’s theme: “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” It was inspired by Dr. Seuss’ book of the same name. Dr. Seuss, the clever, imaginative, silly, and prolific creator of classics such as The Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham. Did you know he and his wife were childfree? That’s right. One of the most beloved storytellers of all time has entertained millions of children, but never had one of his own. We celebrated what would have been his 108th birthday last March with one of our chero (heroes who are childfree) profiles. Read it here.

I don’t know where this year will take me. I hope there will be more ups than downs. I hope to create more joy in my life. I hope that I will become more at peace with my childfree status. I know, wherever my path leads, that it will be a grand adventure.

I hope the same for you. And as we begin this new beginning, I offer to you the opening words from Dr. Seuss’ book:

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

I wish you traveling mercies, my sisters.

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

 

Out With the Old

New year 2013 is comingThis will be the very last post of 2012. But don’t worry; come the New Year, we’ll be back with a brand new site.

Yes, the Great Life Without Baby Makeover is almost complete. For the past couple of months, some talented ladies (I’ll introduce them later) have been working their magic behind the scenes to get the new site ready. I’m beyond excited about the big reveal.

So, what does this mean to you?

1 – All will be quiet here on the blog next week. You’ll still be able to access all the posts, although you may not be able to add comments.

2 – On January 7th, look out for the first post of the New Year.

3 – We’ll be at a new address: LifeWithoutBaby.com, (although you’ll be redirected there if you use the old lifewithoutbaby.wordpress.com URL.) You’ll still find all the prior posts (almost three-years worth!) plus lots of new goodies. I’ll be offering a grand tour on opening day.

So, for now, I wish you a Happy New Year, and I’ll see you at LifeWithoutBaby.com next year!

In Consideration of Him

grief togetherGuest post by: Quasi-Momma

I once was blind, but now I see, to paraphrase an old hymn.   That pretty much sums up my perception of Hubs feelings about our inability to have a child of our own together.

I’m probably not the first woman to make the mistake of thinking her husband’s lack of visible and expressed emotion meant they were “doing just fine.”  Nor will I be the last.

Men react to loss differently than women. Men have the need to be strong. They don’t like to reflect.  Instead, they act.  I remember after our second pregnancy loss, my parents flew into town to help us through it. During the first few days, Hubs and Pop were just a whirlwind of household projects. It grated on my nerves.  We were supposed to be grieving, and yet there they were painting and replacing fixtures.  By day three I lost it on Hubs.  How dare he take our time of grief and use it as an excuse to take time off to do chores around the house?  What kind of unfeeling jerk was he?  Why wasn’t he as distraught and depressed as I was?

Earlier this year as I started on the path to accepting that “mommyhood” was not in the cards for me we fought again over my need to put some space between me and a pregnant relative.  I begged to be excused from family events.  In the face of his insistence, I lashed out at him in pain and anger.  “You don’t understand,” I hissed. “You’ve got children of your own.  You’ll never know what this feels like.”

I continued to see that way for some time.   But the fact is that he was and is hurting too.  We just hurt in different ways.  It hurts him to see me grieving the loss of a dream.  It hurts him that he can’t do anything to change our circumstance or make our pain go away.  I know he’d do anything to change things if he could. He even tried by helping me look into the only thing that our resources could afford – foster care – and we were both pained to discover that it was not the right option of us either.

I’m now starting to see how badly he wanted us to have children together.  Over time, chinks in his armor are beginning to show.  Sitting in church when the pastor makes reference to his soon to be born daughter, I can both hear and feel him groan inwardly.  At the mall while viewing Christmas trees decorated with pictures and wishes of foster children, I see him choke up just slightly.   When tiny footsteps announce that the children have returned from children’s worship, we exchange sad smiles with each other. And when the inevitable cute baby or “we’re pregnant” commercial graces our television set, I see out of the corner of my eye him slowly extend a middle finger towards the screen if only to make me laugh.

Now that I’ve opened my eyes to these small and different expressions of his sadness and grief, I feel less alone in this journey.  I also feel terrible that I had not seen this in him earlier.  Being at odds with your spouse during this struggle makes the pain deeper for both of you.  I share this in hopes that someone who has experienced the pain of this perceived gap might also see the ways in which their partner also hurts.  After all, you are in this together.

Quasi-Momma (aka: Susan) is living a childless, but not childfree, life as a stepmom.  Her blog, Quasi-Momma, is a collection of her reflections on pregnancy loss, childlessness not by choice, and not-so-blended family life, sprinkled with a little gratitude and lot of heart.  

It Got Me Thinking…About The Meaning of Christmas

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

For unto us a Child is born. (Isaiah 9:6)

As I heard these words in my umpteenth pre-Christmas service, my first thought was Pfft! Right. I mean, isn’t it bad enough that I have had to endure yet another holiday season being painfully aware of the lack of children in my life? And then at every turn I am reminded that we mark this holiday in celebration of a miraculous birth. Come on! This almost trumps Mother’s Day as the worst day of the year for those of us who are childfree-not-by-choice.

For reasons I still can’t completely articulate, this has been the hardest holiday season for me yet. After a boisterous Thanksgiving with a houseful of young nieces and nephews, I slipped into a depressed funk as I anticipated a painfully quiet December. I forced myself to listen to Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters (so cheery, I wanted to smack someone), I baked cookies and gave them away, I chose to hang lights and make the house festive for me, even though it seemed pointless and pathetic. Several times I considered giving in to the darkness, donating all my keepsake ornaments to Goodwill, and spending today in bed with a jug of mulled spiced wine.

Instead, in a moment of pure inspiration, I chose to get quiet and listen. I lit a candle and prayed for light. I cried out my hurts and losses to a god who has heard it all many times before and still comforts without judgment. Having released some of my grief, I took a deep breath and invited Cynical Me to take a well-earned holiday. Then I invited Holy Me to give me a new perspective. And here’s what she said:

It’s not about a miracle baby, Love. That’s just the symbol. It’s really about the miracle rebirth of hope and faith. 

Oh, my. That’s exactly the gift I needed this Christmas, I just didn’t know how to ask for it. With tears streaming down my face, I asked for forgiveness for my lack of trust. I felt humbled by the abundance of good gifts I do have in my life, and I expressed my gratitude to God who has great things planned for me and delivers in ways I could never have imagined.

If I could give you one gift this holiday season—whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Al-Hirjra, or a tradition of your own making—it would be what I have received myself: a renewed sense of hope, a heart full of love, and peace within.

May you experience unexpected blessings today, dear sisters.

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

To New Beginnings

Red reset buttonIf you’re reading this post, it means the world didn’t end on Friday. I’m glad; I have a lot of things I still want to do, and there are presents underneath my Christmas tree that I’m looking forward to opening.

While many folks predicted December 21st to be the cataclysmic end of life as we know it, in reality the end of the Mayan Long Calendar was simply the end of a cycle and the beginning of a new cycle, kind of like the odometer in your car going back to 000000. Instead of the end of time, this new cycle is more of a reset button.

I love the idea of a reset button. In fact, I wish the Mayan Long Calendar was considerably shorter so we could get to reset more frequently. Often, as we rumble along, life sticks to us.  But it doesn’t slow us down. Rather, life’s experiences, and especially the stresses and hurts, add to our mass and increase our momentum, until sometimes we find ourselves barreling along, feeling out of control of our emotions, our stress, and even our lives in general.

And then come the holidays. Holiday stress can certainly add to that momentum, even more so when your emotions are already running high and your holidays aren’t shaping up to the way you’d envisioned them.

So, this year I’m pressing my own reset button. I’m slowly letting go of the image of my ideal Christmas and I’ve begun experimenting with creating a new Christmas celebration that better suits my unconventional family. Instead of trying to adapt my old traditions, then feeling disappointed when they don’t live up to my expectations, I’m shaking up the way I celebrate the holidays.

This year Mr. Fab and I are going out of town for Christmas; we’ll be celebrating on Christmas Eve, instead of our old traditional Christmas Day; and we’re going out for dinner instead of cooking a big traditional meal. We’re hitting the reset button on the holidays and taking back Christmas in our own way.

At its very core, Christmas is a celebration of new beginnings, and I hope you’re pressing your own reset button and creating your own way to celebrate the holidays. No matter how you choose to celebrate, I wish you peace, happiness, and new beginnings. And to those of you who celebrate, I wish you a Merry Christmas.