Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

When Your Family Doesn’t Get It

ball-15532_640The holidays are probably the hardest time of year for those of us without children, second only to Mother’s Day. And this was brought home to me with great clarity when a friend called me last week, practically in tears.

She is one of four sisters, and in the past, her family’s tradition has been to gather on Christmas Eve so that the two sisters with children could spend Christmas Day at home with just their immediate families. This year, the third sister has a baby and it’s her turn to host. She’s decided that she’d like to change the tradition and gather on the 25th instead so that “all the kids can spend Christmas Day together.” All the sisters—and the parents—agreed this would be great fun. All except my friend. She didn’t agree because she didn’t know and, in fact, only found out because her niece mentioned it.

It wasn’t that she and her husband were deliberately excluded from the plans—they weren’t considered at all, weren’t even included in any of the discussions or planning—and my friend feels triply hurt by this. She feels that she’s not important in her family because she doesn’t have children {and her family has proven that to be true}, and she feels slighted because her sister (who was also childless for many years and ought to know better) has given no consideration to how all this makes my friend feel even more rejected.

The final dig is that my friend now can’t spend Christmas with her family at all, because she’s already made plans (per the tradition) to spend Christmas Day with her in-laws.  What makes this all even harder was that when my friend called me, she was on her way to watch her nephew’s basketball game. She’s the kind of auntie who goes out of her way to make sure she’s involved in the lives of her sisters’ kids, but it’s clear to her that her sisters don’t see her as part of the “real” family.

This year is the third holiday season for Life Without Baby and I know from your posts and comments over the years that this story isn’t rare at all. How about you? Do you feel your family treats you differently because you don’t have children?

The Holiday Companion is Here!

Cover Final HiIt’s here!

The Life Without Baby Holiday Companion is now available—just in time to get you through the not-always-jolly holidays!

We know from personal experiences—and from stories shared by the wonderful readers of this site—that the holiday season can be especially painful when you wanted children but didn’t get to have them.

So we put together a collection of humorous, healing, and thought-provoking posts and tips, including “All I Want for Christmas is Wa,” “Baby Chitchat,” “Holiday Survival 101,” and “Top 10 Benefits of Childfree Holidays.”

As a member of the Life Without Baby community, you get to preview Holiday Companion before the ebook is released to the world on Amazon next week. PLUS, when you order your copy here, you’ll receive both the full-color PDF and a black and white printable version.

Our hope is that this book will give you inspiration and encouragement as you make your way to a happier new year and a happier new you.

Cheers!

Lisa & Kathleen

Making Peace With Other People’s Children

peaceI love children again. I find myself cooing at babies, talking to little kids in restaurants, and enjoying interacting with other people’s children. Hurray! I’m back!

It wasn’t always this way. When it first became apparent that children weren’t going to be in my future, I went through a period of not liking other people’s children at all. I didn’t appreciate the joy of children—in fact the sound of children’s laughter didn’t make me smile; it about ripped my heart out. I didn’t want to interact with children and so I made a point of avoiding places where children congregate.

The trouble was, I didn’t like the me that didn’t like children. She wasn’t who I was. She was grouchy and bitter, the kind of woman who gives childless women a bad name! But I couldn’t help myself.

Now that I’m back, I realize my anti-kid-ness was a defense mechanism, my psyche’s way of protecting me while I got on with my healing process. Children reminded me of what I didn’t have, and it hurt to be around them. So I stayed away.

During this whole process of coming-to-terms with my infertility, I’ll admit to many unpleasant emotions and thoughts I wouldn’t want to share with anyone. But that doesn’t make me bitter, it doesn’t make me dark, and it doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. It’s just part of the process of protecting ourselves until the hurt starts to subside.

Have you noticed changes in yourself as time passes? If your old self was lost for a while, have you seen glimpses of her return?

The Life Without Baby Holiday Companion is out tomorrow. In case you can’t wait, you can pre-order yours here.

It Got Me Thinking…About “Just” Having One

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

I’m at my wedding reception, all aglow in my big gown, overwhelmed (in a good way) by all the attention and love in the room. One of our guests comes up to me and says, “I’ve been watching you with your little nieces and nephews, and you’re so good with kids. Why don’t you have just one?”

Just what? Are you kidding me?! Like it’s so easy. Just like that, I’ll get pregnant, stay pregnant, pop it out, and the next 18-plus years will be a breeze.

The craziest part is when I told the story to my brand-new husband the next morning, he said, “Well, maybe we should try for a year and see what happens.” So much for all of our discussions about why we couldn’t have children (did I mention I was a 45-year-old first-time bride?) and why we wanted a family of two.

By the next day we were back to our senses and back on track to the beautiful life we’d planned together. Later I got to thinking about all the annoying “Just…” statements that people make. Like:

“Just adopt…just relax…just quit smoking…just get a job…just cut out sugar/carbs/fat/meat/anything that tastes good.”

Maybe I’m just feeling feisty today, but I’m pretty sick and tired of people—especially people who don’t know me well—who offer unhelpful advice. You know what I’d really like to say to them? “Just shut the f— up!”

Just in time for the not always happy holidays, Lisa Manterfield and Kathleen Guthrie Woods are releasing Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of classic blog posts that offer inspiration and encouragement for getting through the season when you’re childfree. The book will be available here on this site next Tuesday! 

It Got Me Thinking…About the Little Prince

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

It’s official: I’m obsessed. I cannot get enough of the news and photos and stories and updates and video clips of England’s Prince George. He’s so cute! And he could have been mine…in my fantasy world.

Men have their fantasy football leagues, I have my fantasy royal life; and the little prince’s birth has pushed my imagination into overdrive. I daydream about life as a princess. I scroll through images of famous tiaras and pick the ones I think will be the most flattering on me. (I’m thinking the Girls of Gt. Britain and Ireland Tiara would be suitable for around the house.) I picture myself in fascinators and fabulous designer suits for events (wasn’t Duchess Kate’s cream dress for the christening gorgeous?) and skinny jeans–chunky sweater–riding boots combos for when the paparazzi catches me pushing my own cart at the market. I imagine how I would love my royal babies, how they would adore me, and how the BBC, TIME magazine, and the San Francisco Chronicle would capture personal and iconic moments in my family’s life for posterity.

My dreams of being a mother crumbled in real life, and I know my butt won’t fit into skinny jeans. That’s reality. But deep in a secluded corner of my heart, where my fairytale lives on in my dreams, I still think about what might have been, and I think it might have ended happily ever after.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree. 

Whiny Wednesday: Turning Around the Question

Whiny_WednesdayWhy is it that people have no problem asking, “So, why don’t you have kids,” or “How come you don’t like children?” or “Don’t you think not having kids is selfish?”

Could you imagine if mothers were asked the inverse? “So, why do you have kids?” “How come you like children?” or “Don’t you think having kids is selfish?” I wonder how many people would have an answer.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s your gripe this week?

Childless by Choice, Chance, or Circumstance

choiceWhen I first began this blog, my mission was to create a safe community for women who don’t have children, “whether by choice, chance, or circumstance.” My intention was to be inclusive, but in some ways, that definition only perpetuates the stereotypes that society puts on us: if you don’t have children you either couldn’t, made lifestyle choices and ran out of time, or chose not to bother.

In reality, it’s never so simple as that.

I am infertile. There is no question that my body wasn’t able to reproduce of its own accord and I am childless by circumstance, but that doesn’t mean that choice and chance didn’t have a hand in it too.

Having children was always my plan for as long as I can remember, but in my teens I chose not to have children by practicing the safe sex tactics that had been drilled into me by sex education programs, friends’ dire warnings, and startling stories in teen magazines—that and a healthy smattering of blind dumb chance.

In my early 20s I chose a career over motherhood; there was a great big world and a great big me to explore before I settled down into the role of mother.

In my early 30s I was ready, but chance worked against me by tempting me with a potential mate who turned out to not want kids. At the time, I didn’t have the means or the guts to do it alone.

Finally, in my mid-30s, I met Mr. Fab and set out to become a mother. But circumstance prevailed and I wasn’t meant to have a child easily or naturally. It wasn’t that I didn’t choose motherhood, more that motherhood didn’t choose me.

So, I had another choice to make. Given medical intervention, sufficient high-powered drugs, enough attempts, and sufficient money to do them all, motherhood might have been an option for me. Given enough time and emotional stamina, adoption might have worked out, too.

But I chose not to keep pursing fertility treatments; I chose not to hire someone to produce a baby for me; and most of all, I chose not to sacrifice my marriage for the sake of an endless quest for motherhood. I made a choice that was right for me, so does that mean I am childless-by-choice?

The problem with labels is that they’re one-size-fits-all. But when it comes to not having children, we really come in all shapes and sizes, don’t we?

What choices did you make on your journey? Do people make assumptions about why you don’t have children?

Halloween Without Children

jack o lanternThis week it’s Halloween and I know it can a tough time for many of you.

There’s the threat of a constant parade of cute munchkins at your door, the inundation of kid photos on Facebook, and, of course, it marks the start of the holiday season, which is never an easy time if you don’t have children.

So, how are you handling it?

Do you turn out the lights and pretend you’re not home? Do you make alternative plans to be out of the house? Or are you ready to embrace the festivities, just in your own way?

I’m going to be out of town this year, so plan to go out to dinner with Mr. Fab and take Halloween as it comes, if it comes to me at all. If I were home, I’d possibly do the same, but have some treats on hand in case of early callers.

In the past, I’ve hidden with the lights off on those years I wasn’t ready to face it. I’ve also decked out the lawn, bought a cauldron of sweeties, and fully embraced other people’s children (although I’ll admit there was more of the former before I could muster the strength for the latter.)

So, what’s your plan this year? How do you feel about the holiday and what’s your strategy for getting through it?

Whiny Wednesday: When We Were Kids

Whiny_WednesdayA 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.

It Got Me Thinking…About Aunties

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

I’ve been diving for treasure! Which means I finally pulled out the boxes from under my desk and started going through the articles, photographs, scribbles, and other items set aside for “some day” projects. Much of it is going straight into the circular file, but here and there I’ve found something worth keeping.

This is how I rediscovered a treasure called The Complete Book of Aunts, a little book by Rupert Christiansen with Beth Brophy that celebrates brand name aunts (Jemima), X-rated (Gigi’s Alicia), those who helped raise their siblings’ children (when Coco Chanel was orphaned at age 6, her aunts took her in and taught her how to sew), and many others real and imagined (Spider-Man’s Aunt Rosemary).

In addition to historical factoids (“auntie” meant “prostitute” in pre-18th century India), there are tips for good auntie-ing and delightful quotes, such as this gem from Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther:

(Aunt Hetty) “What on earth d’you think I’m here for, I should like to know?”

To be a pattern and example to all aunts, thought Mrs. Miniver; to be a delight to boys and a comfort to their parents; to show that at least one daughter in every generation ought to remain unmarried [and to] raise the profession of auntship to a fine art.

I’m not keen on the “ought to remain unmarried” part, but “raise the profession of auntship to a fine art”—doncha love that?!

Many of us have the pleasure of being aunties, and because we aren’t responsible for little darlings of our own, we’re free to lavish our attentions on our nieces and nephews. I must be doing a decent job because the inscription on the title page, signed by a beloved sister-in-law, reads “Behind every niece or nephew is a ‘great aunt.’” It is nice to know my efforts are appreciated, although I freely admit that I nurture these special relationships because they make my heart sing.

Whether you’re called auntie, tante, tia, shagazi, or an honorary term of your own making, I hope you are finding joy in practicing this fine art too.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree.