Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Making the “Choice” to Be Childless

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A while back, I received an e-mail from an LWBer I’ll call “Kim” who was struggling to find her place in our community. She hadn’t been through infertility, nor had she made a conscious choice to not be a parent. Instead, she’d held out for Mr. Right and married a man she loved—who didn’t want children. It wasn’t exactly my story, but I could relate to much of it. I shared my response with Lisa, and she asked me to consider sharing it with other LWB readers.

If you see yourself in here, I hope you’ll find some encouragement, some support. I hope you’ll feel—maybe for the first time—that you are not alone.

Dear Kim,

I am so sorry to hear of your losses and sorrows. I get it! Our paths are similar.

First, congratulations on your recent marriage! I, too, held out for love, which meant I got married in my 40s. My husband was worth the wait.

Second, a bit of my own story: I went through a long process (mid-30s to early 40s) of exploring whether or not I could/wanted to have a child on my own, and ultimately decided it wasn’t something I could do. It still irks me when people accuse me of making the “choice” to be childfree, when I feel in my heart that this destiny was forced on me in so many ways. Like you, I wanted to be a mom and I would have been a great mom. So not fair!

By the time I met my husband-to-be, I was starting to come to terms with the facts that my age and health were not in my favor for bearing and raising children. Sure, I could have tried every medical miracle, but with what results? I couldn’t do it. When I knew we were at a defining point in our relationship, I sat my then-boyfriend down, ready to set him free if he wanted children, because I knew I couldn’t offer him any guarantees. It came as somewhat of a relief, then, when he told me he never wanted kids.

However…that doesn’t mean we don’t have moments of “What if…?”

You asked how other women in your—in our—shoes are “living with it.” I’m sitting here at my desk trying to think of the best answers to give you, the real answers. It’s not easy, Kim. There are days when I love my life just as it is, when I celebrate that one of the reasons my husband and I have such an amazing relationship is because we are not having to divide our energies and attentions to take care of children. We spend our weekends together, even if it’s just running errands or watching Law and Order reruns on TV. We aren’t driving in different directions to attend soccer and Little League games. We are the last couple on the dance floor at wedding receptions because our friends who are parents have gone home to relieve babysitters or because they’re exhausted from all their obligations. These are blessed days indeed.

And then…and then…Halloween comes around and I want to stay in bed and cry about all the joyful events I’ve missed and will miss. I have to talk myself into decorating for the Christmas holidays because there are no little ones to revel in the magic, no one with whom I can share precious traditions. I lied to a friend a few weeks ago, a friend I love, because I couldn’t bear to go to her baby shower. I will love her child, we will be part of her child’s life, but I just couldn’t sit in a room full of women who got what I so desperately wanted.

In between, I lean heavily upon the wisdom and experience of our sisters on LWB. Sometimes I can offer the words of encouragement and support; other times it’s me who needs to be picked up off the floor. I encourage you to spend some time familiarizing yourself with the resources on the site. Yes, many of the women are here because of infertility, but we can still learn from each other how to move through this and forward into new life paths.

Melanie Notkin of Savvy Auntie has coined the phrase “circumstantially infertile.” I personally hate the term, but it makes sense to me. She is childfree for the same reasons we are (and I believe she’s still single) and has turned her experience into being an auntie advocate. I encourage you to check out her site. From my own experience, I will add that being “the fun aunt” has its advantages.

I also have learned a lot from Jody Day’s book, Living the Life Unexpected (also available on Amazon). She has a site called Gateway Women. I know Jody (also circumstantially infertile) has groups around the world, so you might check if there’s one near you. If not, maybe you’re the woman to start one? There are also several forums online on the LWB site. Find a topic that speaks to you and jump in.

Finally, I want to remind you that healing takes time. Please be gentle with yourself, Kim.

With my best wishes,

Kathleen

 

Kathleen would love to hear and possibly share your story. You can reach her at [email protected], or visit the Our Stories page to download the questionnaire for the Our Stories column.

 

When You No Longer Belong in a “Family Friendly” Place

By Lisa Manterfield

A couple of years ago, a favorite local restaurant closed its doors, not because business was bad, but because the owner decided to reimagine the concept to make it more family friendly. My sweet little French bistro is no more.

What make this change particularly painful (and ironic) is that this gem, with its Parisian-style sidewalk patio, is where I sat when I wrote the first post for Life Without Baby.

Image

One Friday afternoon, more than seven years ago now, I took my laptop, snagged a table in the sun, ordered myself a glass of bubbly and a half-dozen oysters and began documenting my life without the children I’d dreamed of. Since then, Kathleen and I have celebrated completing drafts of our books there (see photo) and, one evening, I met with one of my earliest readers of the blog to share a glass of wine and stories of our journeys. So, this place holds a special place in my heart.

Aside from the sentimental loss, the restaurant was also one of the few quiet adult places to eat in that area. Along with one or two other holdouts, it’s surrounded by family pizza joints and family burger bars. And now it’s going to be another family-focused restaurant—an “eatery” instead of a “bistro.”

The owner told the local paper that the new place “will cater to a larger segment of the population” and that he plans to “make it more of a place where everyone feels they belong.”

I found it ironic that this longtime patron, who once felt so at home there that she chose it as the place to write about not have children, would no longer feel she belonged. In a society where being childless often make us feel like outcasts, it hurt to be shut out of yet another place.

But perhaps it’s not time for us to despair yet. The follow-up to this story is that the family-friendly restaurant never did open its doors. The space sat empty for two or three years, so perhaps the owner’s assumptions about “everyone” was wrong after all. A new place is coming soon, a very family-unfriendly craft beer bar. I may have to mosey on over and enjoy a nice quiet brew. Perhaps I’ll take my laptop and write about it. Wouldn’t that be a nice full-circle ending?

Our Stories: Theresa

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

When I read through Theresa’s answers to the Our Stories questionnaire, I cried at my desk. This is what despair sounds like, I thought. And I totally get it, because I remember all too well what it feels like.

My first instinct was to tell her “You’re going to be okay!”, but there’s no guarantee, and that response is not fair to her. Theresa’s pain is raw and real, and this is where she is today.

At the same time, I believe she will get through it. She’s already demonstrating that she’s brave enough (although she may not yet realize how brave she is) to go to that deep, dark, ugly place of grieving, a stage that many of us know must be experienced before we can begin to move on. And I know from reading so many other stories from this wonderfully safe and supportive community that there is a next stage…and a next.

As you read this, if you see yourself in Theresa’s story, I want you to know, You are not alone. If you see a former self in her story, I hope you’ll reach out to Theresa in the Comments to tell her where you are today and offer some hope or encouragement, if you can, or sisterly understanding, if you can’t.

In any case, please be gentle with yourself today.

 

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

Theresa: Shattered.

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

Theresa: Not by choice. I waited, wanting everything to be right. Was told by a gynecologist that it’d be “difficult” for me to conceive naturally. At 39, and never having gotten pregnant naturally, I decided I needed to come to terms with it and thought I had. Nope. At 44, I found myself pregnant. A miracle!!! Doctors were shocked. I was speechless and over the moon. Testing and questionnaires done, on the prenatal vitamins…but at the ultrasound appointment two weeks later, they saw nothing. The doctors took blood and informed me I would miscarry and the baby was no longer viable.

I don’t understand! Then the doctor started probing into my medical history: Had I ever been pregnant or miscarried? NO. Had I ever received a transfusion? NO. Yet here I am with O- blood and anti-Jk(a) antibodies already somehow “sensitized”.

I couldn’t even miscarry properly; I was issued the morning after pill to “flush it out”. “It”?? You mean my dreams? Yes, those.

My ob-gyn says my partner is Rh+ and my already-sensitized blood turned on my dream and terminated the baby. The doctor says I should never even attempt to get pregnant anymore because the rate of miscarriage increases with each, and IF I was “somehow able to carry to term, the baby would either be born with blue baby syndrome, severe deficit, or stillborn.”

It has been two years of heavy medications for anxiety/depression and PTSD, and I’m no closer to coming to terms with this than day one.

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

Theresa: I quickly change the subject before the surface is scratched and I begin to tear up without control.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Theresa: Broken.

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

Theresa: Living.

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

Theresa: Somehow finding some acceptance.

 

Won’t you share your story with us? The act of answering the questions itself can be very healing, plus we’d like to support you by telling you “You are not alone.” Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with her childlessness.

Our Stories: Zoe

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Zoe’s turning point came during “an excessive attack of the googles,” when she came across a woman on a fertility board with the same stats. Upon closer inspection, Zoe realized the woman had posted seven years earlier, and had endured nine IVF failures since. “I did not want to be that woman,” she decided then and there.

But deciding to stop unsuccessful treatments and making peace with a life without babies are different things. Zoe quotes John Cleese: “I can take the despair. It’s the hope I can’t stand.” In her own words, Zoe says, “Clinging onto hope was not something I was prepared to do indefinitely. I wanted to walk away with my sanity intact.”

Here’s her story.

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

Zoe: I always said I’d have a toddler by the time I was 30. My dad used to joke that would mean I’d have to give birth at 28, so get pregnant at 27, be in a relationship by 26, and that I was saying this whilst aged 26, and it “obviously isn’t going to be that moron in the baseball cap you brought round last week, so you better start looking”.

I dreamt of filling a child’s life with music (both myself and my partner are musicians), books, wellies, dogs, silly humour, and doodles. I’d also always been positive about adopting. My parents fostered many kids before we came along, so that was part of my dream too.

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

Zoe: Circumstance. I always went out with guys who weren’t ready, and I respected them. I was in a long-term relationship from 26, stopped taking the pill at 30. He responded by forcing me to take the morning-after pill when he forgot to use a condom. That devastated me. Then two weeks shy of my 33rd birthday, he just left, saying he didn’t love me, wasn’t ready for kids and wanted to “free me up”. He is now a father of one with the girl he got with three weeks after leaving me.

I got with my future husband pretty quickly after that—we’d been friends for years. He’d had an undescended testicle till aged 12, and two years in, we confirmed he had very low sperm count and IVF ICSI was our only option. Six months later, when I was just 36, we found out I had Diminished Ovarian Reserve (the ovaries of a 45 year old) and wouldn’t respond to IVF. Double whammy. He can’t have kids without IVF, I can’t get pregnant with it. We did it anyway. It failed drastically.

We don’t want double donor. I have my own very clear feelings about that, and it feels good to actively make a decision together against it. I would adopt, but my partner won’t, and I have chosen a life with him.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now? (for example: still in denial, angry, hoping for a miracle, depressed, crawling toward acceptance, embracing Plan B)

Zoe: Never in denial, as I always thought we’d have a problem and have been pretty realistic the whole way through. I moved from anger (at my ex-partner, who I now realize took the only fertile years of my life) into depression. Currently trying to convince myself of Plan B. Every day I take a huge amount of physical and emotional effort, convincing myself that this is okay, I am okay, a life without children will be okay. Every morning all the hard work I did the day before, getting to a place of acceptance, has vanished, and I have to start convincing myself all over again.

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

Zoe: The constant exclusion from life’s milestones. I never wanted to live like a 20-something forever. I wanted a family life and all that entailed.

Also I’m particularly upset about the fact there will be no one there to bother about what I leave behind. My legacy, I suppose. I have hundreds of recordings of me singing and playing songs, scrapbooks of band tours I’ve been on, photos of achievements I’ve made, venues I’ve played, and no one to listen to them or read them or look at them when I’m gone. I was looking forward to the exciting “this is what mummy used to do before she had you” conversations.

LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?

Zoe: That it wasn’t planned. That it wasn’t my fault. That it’s not a normal thing to go through at 36, and that I am broken with grief and would be grateful for their understanding on that.

Rather than what I want other women to know though, I want to speak to men in their 30s. I want them to know that their decisions to love their girlfriends/wives, but yet dismiss their requests to start a family because they are not ready, until they are 40 in some cases, is not something women should have to bear. We are not being mental or unnecessarily naggy. We are legitimately worried that it will be too late. Men should bear some of this responsibility, they should meet us half way.

LWB: What’s your Plan B?

Zoe: Being an aunt to my one and only niece/nephew, who was conceived at the point I found out I couldn’t have children naturally and was born a few weeks after I found out I can never have children at all.

Getting married, with the knowledge I have already been through one of the hardest things you can go through with a partner, and starting off with the understanding that it will be a marriage without kids. But I am so glad I know this from the outset and am still choosing to do it. That feels empowering to me.

 

What is your Plan B? Or are your wounds so raw that you can’t even imagine a happy future? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.

Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.

Whiny Wednesday: Missing Out on Parenting Milestones

Graduation season is upon us and social media has been abuzz with snapshots of proud parents and their offspring. So it seems like a good time for this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic:

Feeling left out when friends and relatives celebrate the milestones of being parents and grandparents.


As always, your other whines are always welcome.

It Got Me Thinking…About What I Don’t Need Kids For

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A friend recently shared this with me on Facebook:

While I strongly disagree, I do feel compelled to share some of my thoughts on this.

  1. WTF?!
  2. You just sent this to someone you know is childless not by choice. Are you trying to make me feel less-than again?
  3. So, yeah, I don’t think it’s all about me. Ever. Never did.
  4. I didn’t need to bring a child into the world to get this. Does that make me a better or more evolved human?
  5. I’m going to go with “yes” to my last question.

Seriously, what would be an appropriate response to this? If you got it, would you simply un-friend the heartless dimwit? Let’s have some fun with this: Assuming you have no intention of sending a reply, but want to get it out of your system, what would you say? (By the way, I did not reply to her. I sat on this for a couple of months, steaming, until I figured out I could vent here.)

 

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

 

 

 

 

It Got Me Thinking…About Wishes for a Flea-Free Life

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

At a dinner not long ago, I shared some of the challenges we’ve faced with the raccoons that moved into our dining room wall. Yes, inside the wall. Damages to the vents, the doors, the walls. The fleas that have infested our laundry room and left me with itchy red bites all over my legs. Loud noises keeping us up all night. The costs of catching these critters and relocating them to wooded areas nearby. (We live in a big city, for Pete’s sake!)

I fielded questions about how they got in, how their nocturnal activities are making our dog go crazy, and what sounds they make (kind of a mewing by the babies, and a hissing-screech by the adults). But the question that stopped me in my tracks came from a nine-year-old:

“Wait…what’s a flea?”

He’d never seen one, never been bitten, never almost lost mind trying to end the onslaught by employing collars, sprays, high-pitched noise-emitting machines (those were the worst—and useless), dips, and bombs. And I hope he never does.

It’s unrealistic for me to expect that his life will be pain-free, but as I thought about how blissfully unaware of fleas he is right now, I allowed myself to think of other things I’d like my young friend to be free of:

Loneliness

Infertility

Ostracism

Bigotry

Bullying

Prejudice

Poverty – of pocket and spirit

We LWBers endure a lot of grief about being childless or childfree. Today, I wish you a different kind of –less and –free. I wish you a day of peace, of belonging, and of joy.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is telling the story about her journey in The Mother of All Dilemmas. As she shares her quest to become a single mother (and ultimately embraces a life without children), she explores why society still appears to base a woman’s worth on how many children she has. Watch for updates on the book’s release here at LifeWithoutBaby.com.

Our Stories: Lynn

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

“I am on the swim up, but I haven’t broken the surface yet,” Lynn* says, in answer to where she is on her journey. “At the same time, I feel scared to break free of it, to let it go. I feel stuck; I’m scared to turn the corner.”

Now 41, she’s been on the infertility/ran out of time rollercoaster for several years. Although she’s starting to make peace with her path, she continues to wrestle with the heartbreaking losses of the dream of holding her newborn and looking into familiar eyes in a new face, the memories that will never be made, and “all of the love that I have to give to that child that will never be given.”

Yet she continues to look for hope. “Some people come out the other end of this situation and say that they now know how strong they are, and that they can get through anything,” she says. “What I am learning is that I can survive, and that it’s okay to feel all of it. It’s even okay to be weak sometimes.”

 After reading her story, I hope you’ll reach out to her in the comments. Perhaps you can share with her your own answer to the last question.

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

Lynn: I can’t honestly say that I spent my younger years yearning to be a mom like so many women do. I did want children, but it always seemed like a goal for the next phase of my life: when I was a little older, when I had a better job, when I had a husband, etc. I had a long-term boyfriend in my early 20s, and I wanted to get married and start a family, but he was not interested. I did finally leave him and spent the next 10 years being very single. By the time I was in my mid-30s, I was overwhelmed by the desire to be a mom. I had spent so many years concentrating on my job and dating, but I felt no purpose in my life. Most of the men I dated were a mess, and I started to doubt that I would ever find something real. I met my husband when I was 38, and he was definitely worth the wait. We started trying to get pregnant even before we got married, then quickly learned it was not going to be an easy road for us. We did all of the drugs, intrauterine insemination (IUI), and then in vitro fertilization (IVF).

LWB: Where are you on your journey now? (for example: still in denial, angry, hoping for a miracle, depressed, crawling toward acceptance, embracing Plan B)

Lynn: Can I be all of these things at once? (LOL) I guess I am crawling toward acceptance, but still struggling with a little bit of depression. And I would be lying if I said that I didn’t harbor a secret hope for a miracle way down deep inside of me.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Lynn: Not sure I have totally hit that yet, but we did a round of IVF a little over a year ago. They were only able to harvest one egg, and although it looked good at first, it didn’t end up taking. We have thought about using an egg donor, but my husband is not willing to put us in $25,000 worth of debt to do it. At our age, we wouldn’t have that paid off until retirement (if we were lucky enough to pay it off at all).

I had an early miscarriage a few months ago. It was the first time in my entire life I had ever been pregnant. It came and went quickly, and it has been awful. I had just started down the road to acceptance, and then it happened. After fighting the anger, depression, and heartache of not being able to have a child, there is a part of me that wants to come up out of the depths of all of this and see what the next part of my life is going to look like.

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

Lynn: My husband and I are seeing a counselor, and she told me that I am grieving and that it’s so important to try to channel the emotions I have into something healthy and constructive. I have been journaling a lot, and it seems to be helping.

LWB: What advice would you like to give to your younger self?

Lynn: Be aware of your fertility and be proactive about it at an earlier age. Don’t just assume that you have forever to make it happen or that because celebrities have children in their 50s or your aunt’s cousin’s mother got pregnant when she was 47 that you can too. It’s harder than you think, and much harder than we are led to believe by our culture and media.

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Lynn: The honesty and empathy shown here is everything. When I read women’s stories and read your posts, I don’t feel alone. Thank you for that.

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

Lynn: That I could reach past the survival phase and reach a place where I can thrive. I want to find myself again. I feel like my personality, my “mojo,” has been lost through all of this. I hope my husband and I can start to embrace our lives and celebrate that we found each other. I want us to fully enjoy the rest of our lives together.

LWB: What’s your Plan B?

Lynn: I don’t have one. However, I am in the market for one if you know where I can find one. 🙂

 

*We allow each contributor to choose another name, if she wishes, to protect her privacy.

What is your Plan B? Or are your wounds so raw that you can’t even imagine a happy future? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.

Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.

 

 

It Got Me Thinking…About Our Cheroes

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A while back we did a series on women who inspire us, women who are our heroes, who happen to be childfree: cheroes.

Recently I came across this interview with Ina Garten, the wonderful “Barefoot Contessa,” in which she addresses why she and her husband, Jeffrey, never had children. “I really felt, I feel, that I would have never been able to have the life I’ve had,” she said. A life that has included an incredibly successful shop, a line of cookbooks, TV shows, and an international fan base. “So it’s a choice,” she said, “and that was the choice I made.”

She goes on to say that she never felt judged by other people for her choice, which I find amazing…and encouraging.

I wish I could be as content with my “choices” as she is. Maybe someday I will be. Meanwhile, what helps me is hearing that other people are being less judgmental of childfree women, cheroes such as Ina Garten are speaking up with positive messages, and women who happen to be childfree are continuing to rock our world.

Who are your cheroes? If you can’t think of one, check out the series we did on LWB and visit Jody Day’s fabulous Gallery of Women: Childless & Childfree Women Role Models on Pinterest.

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