Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: Traditions You Won’t Get to Share with Your Children


November is the month for Bonfire Night in the U.K. As a child, it was one of my favorite nights of the year, second only to Christmas Eve.

We’d have a bonfire in the backyard, and my dad would bring home a box of fireworks to set off and a couple of packets of sparklers. We’d have baked potatoes and roast chestnuts, and my mum would make parkin and gooey, delicious bonfire toffee. It was an evening spent outdoors, clustered around the fire. It was about friends and food and a little bit of danger.

It’s one of the many things I miss about my homeland, and it’s one of the traditions I would have enjoyed sharing with my children. And that’s the topic for this week’s Whiny Wednesday:

Traditions you won’t get to share with your children

Happy Bonfire Night and happy whining.

Whiny Wednesday: Haunted by Halloween

Next Tuesday is Halloween, which for many of us means streams of cute children knocking on our front doors.

Love it or hate it; it’s hard to avoid it. So the discussion topic for this week is:

How do you handle this difficult holiday?

As it’s Whiny Wednesday, there’s room for your gripes here, too.

Why My Children Are Perfect

By Lisa Manterfield

Before I was even pregnant, I imagined my children vividly. I laid out a smorgasbord of family traits and handpicked the best of them.

My son, Valentino, would be named for my husband’s favorite uncle, and he’d be a chip off the old block. He’d have his daddy’s good looks—the profile of an Aztec Prince—paired with Grandma Tilly’s curiosity and great-grandpa Aureliano’s piercing green eyes. I pictured my Valentino to be charismatic and creative; he’d love music and art, and of course, he’d adore his mother.

My daughter, naturally, would take after my side of the family. Sophia would be named for my dad’s mother and would inherit her spirit of survival and her generosity, and she’d get my straight hair, so I’d know how to deal with it. I could picture Sophia easily, and I’m sure you’ll understand when I tell you that I knew she would be beautiful.

Before they were born—in fact, before they were even conceived—I imagined my children to life, and they were absolutely perfect. And why wouldn’t they be? Does any mother really imagine her future offspring any other way?

But here’s the thing. My children are perfect. Sophia and Valentino could never be anything but perfect, because they never got the chance to exist anywhere but in my imagination.

I was 38 years old, and four years into trying to conceive my children when my doctor pulled out a notepad and drew a lopsided oval. “Imagine this is your ovary,” he said.

“You have one producing follicle.”

It just takes one, I thought, but the doctor looked at the wall just past my eyes and I could tell this news wasn’t going to be good.

He explained what was going on in perfectly logical, unsentimental, doctor speak—I assume—but what I heard was:

“A normal ovary should have 6-10 good follicles, but you have mumbo-jumbo-icky-sticky-messed-up-insidy-bits-itis, so you have a snowflake’s chance in hell of having a baby.”

The actual math worked out like this:

Mr. Fab (my hubby) plus Lisa (that’s me) to the power of love, equals big fat nothing, no baby to infinity.

Mr. Fab plus Lisa times IVF times unknown X equals approximately 25 percent chance of conception.

Mr. Fab plus egg donor minus Lisa minus love, all to the power of voodoo times big bucks squared equals a 50-50 shot, maybe baby, maybe not.

I can’t move on from this particular part of the story without mentioning that up until this point, IVF had been sold to us as the silver bullet, the sure thing, with glossy brochures showing healthy bouncing babies and glowing parents. There was no mention of the outrageous expense, the painful injections, or the emotional toll of the slippery slope of hope, expectation, and disappointment. The odds quoted covered the vast spectrum of all women, all ages, all scenarios and were not calculated for one Lisa, one set of dud ovaries, one desperate attempt. Instead we were simply told, “It will all be worth it when you get your baby.”

I’m sure the doctor expected us to say, “Where do I sign?” But his glossy offer wasn’t nearly good enough for me to bet my money, my body, and, most of all, my heart on, so we said, “No thank you,” and left.

There’s a lot more to this story of course, enough to fill two books and more than 1,500 blog posts. Suffice to say, my husband and I, armed with information from every possible source, explored all the avenues available, but ultimately our children, a pregnancy, even a near-miss, eluded us. We made the hardest decision of our lives and started trying to figure out how to build a life that didn’t include Valentino or Sophia.

It’s been a long road of acceptance, filled with a lot of tears, much stomping around being furious at the world, and yes, I’ll admit it, a fair bit of glaring at mothers who don’t fully appreciate the children they’ve been given, and griping about the unfairness of how life’s blessings are sometimes doled out (see any Whiny Wednesday post for details.) But I’m doing pretty well at this childless thing now.

That said, my wounds have scabbed, rather than healed, and I have yet to put myself through the torture of accepting a baby shower invitation. The last one I went to was for a baby boy who’s now in middle school. I’ve sent gifts and visited every friend’s newborn, but I just couldn’t face all that comparing pregnant bellies and passing around impossibly tiny onesies, or the smiling faces saying, “You’re next!” I knew I’d just end up hyperventilating in the guest bathroom again.

But if a well-meaning, but stressed-out mom tells me, “You wouldn’t understand; you’re not a mother,” I can now simply grit my teeth and try to put myself in her shoes. I’ll suggest that maybe because I’m not entrenched in the child-rearing wars, I could offer a different perspective, and that perhaps my four decades of preparing for my own children, might give me some grounds for an opinion.

And when this mom tells me how perfect her children are, I’ll just smile and nod, because I know that mine are perfect, too. My daughter, Sophia, is whip smart and beautiful, and has never slammed a door or yelled that she hates me. And my son, my Valentino? He’s just so handsome, with those gorgeous green eyes, and oh, how he loves his mother.

I know every mother thinks her children are perfect, but in my memories and in my heart, mine really are—and they always will be.

 

It Got Me Thinking…About a Book to Get Us Through to the New Year

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

The holiday season is right around the corner, and with it comes all the regrets, disappointments, slights, heartaches, and painful reminders we thought we’d overcome. Yeah. Right. Having been there, I know there will be some tough days when I’ll find myself sinking back into feeling isolated, lost, cheated, and, yes, crazy.

Fortunately, I (and you) have a role model named Lisa Manterfield, who frequently reminds me that I am not alone. She once stood where I stood on this rocky path, she survived…and now she’s thriving. And she shares her hard-won wisdom in her brilliant book, Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen.

Life Without Baby_Front_book 3DLisa is a gentle and supportive guide, and she shares from her own experiences, from the workshops she’s led, and from the stories and tips LWB readers have passed along. She says this is the book she wishes she’d found when she first had to acknowledge she wouldn’t have children. Me, too, and as I read through the raw, real, and practical advice she’s included, I’ve found there’s something for every step of the journey.

You may have wounds so raw, you’re not sure how you’ll ever breathe again, let alone hold your composure during your nephew’s first Christmas. Lisa’s exercises will help you actively work through the stages of grief and arm yourself against social landmines, like the office holiday party when everyone talks about their kids. Maybe you’re feeling closer to accepting being childfree-not-by-choice, but haven’t the faintest idea what the heck you’re going to do with the rest of your life. Lisa’s got some suggestions for how you might thrive in a new happily ever after of your own design. And you don’t have to wait for January 1st to get started! Throughout, Lisa breaks open taboos and addresses the very real emotions and challenges we face every day, while offering understanding, support, and encouragement.

I know this because I had the privilege of editing Lisa’s book. After I finished the work, I tabbed several pages that spoke to me and highlighted exercises I wanted to revisit. Yes, even after all the work I’ve done to make peace with my given path, I still found there are some tender spots that need attention and resolution. Lisa’s book is helping me, and I believe there’s something in there that will help you too.

So, might I suggest the first item on your gift shopping list is one for yourself? Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen is available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle versions.

 

This holiday season, Kathleen Guthrie Woods is wishing for peace on earth, as well as a bit more peace about her childfree status.

Change is in the Air

By Lisa Manterfield

When I started this blog seven years ago, I didn’t know anyone else who had wanted children, but given up on the dream. All the books about infertility featured miracle cures and happy endings. The infertility blogs I followed either morphed into pregnancy and parenting blogs, or quietly disappeared. I really did feel like I was the only person who’d ever gone through this.

And then I found Pamela and Kathleen, and slowly I came to know a growing circle of wonderful women who all understood how I felt. You found me and I got to know you, and together we began navigating our way through this mess.

And yet, beyond the safety of our blogs and books, our little tribe was silent. Out in the real world, we were ignored, misunderstood, criticized, and pitied.

But that is changing. You may not feel it yet, but change is in the air, and for once, the wind is blowing in our favor.

My friend and colleague, Jody Day, is leading the charge in the UK. Last week the Guardian newspaper published an article about the growing movement.

You can read “‘The desire to have a child never goes away’: How the involuntarily childless are forming a new movement.” 

I hope, like me, you’ll find it encouraging.

Our Stories: M

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

M’s turning point came after six long years of enduring the physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion of infertility. “I wanted to feel like I was living again,” she says, “free from the ‘will we?’ or ‘won’t we?’ limbo land.” Having also “gambled away” thousands of dollars on IVF, she and her husband, E, made the difficult decision to “step away from the pursuit of a lifelong dream, knowing we did all we could.”

Making the decision to stop is one thing. “Changing my mindset from ‘when we have kids’ to ‘we’re childfree’ is not an easy or quick process,” she says. “I’ve had the ‘when I have kids’ mindset for 40 years!”

As their journey unfolded, M and E wondered where the other people like them were. So they started a podcast to talk about the scary and difficult parts of this journey, to include the male perspective, to connect with other people who are going through what they’re going through, that is, trying to figure out what a childfree life can look like. After you read M’s story below, listen in on some of their real, relatable, thought-provoking, and sometimes amusing conversations at How Did We Get Here? with E&M.

 

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

M: I always wanted to be a mother. I dreamt about it as a little girl as I played with my baby dolls. I couldn’t wait until the day that I got to experience being pregnant, having a baby shower, decorating a nursery, choosing a name, and on and on. Throughout my twenties and thirties, I saw friend after friend experience these things, and I hoped that my turn would come. I wondered what our baby would look like and how they would take after their dad or me. So many dreams from pregnancy to sending them to college to their wedding….

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

M: We tried to conceive for about six years. My husband had an infertility outpatient surgery early in our journey, which led to a major emergency surgery, 25 days in the hospital, and more than a year of recovery. He came very close to losing his life, and the entire experience was very traumatic for us both. A few years after he healed, we decided to try IVF. After three rounds of IVF (one transfer, zero pregnancies), we decided to stop trying to conceive and remain a family of two.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

M: We decided earlier this year to stop infertility treatments and live childfree. I am in a period of grieving while accepting and planning our Plan B life. I do still have some anger about all that we’ve been through, and am not totally sure how to deal with it. I’m trying to be patient/compassionate toward myself, which is not always easy.

My husband and I are journeying through this transition on a podcast, How Did We Get Here? with E & M. This journey feels so lonely sometimes, and we thought a podcast might help us to connect with others going through the same thing, would be therapeutic for us and hopefully helpful for others too. (Side note: We make $0 from the podcast. It’s just something we do for us, from our home.)

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

M: “Mother” has always been a part of my identity since I was a very young girl. So now…it feels like a very sacred part of me is dying and the grief is hard to put into words.

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

M: Dive into the waves of grief; don’t try to ignore them or fight them. Give yourself as much time as you need to feel whatever you need to feel. There’s no timeline. I remind myself of this advice often.

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

M: I love the freedom we have to make decisions based solely on what we want. I love how calm and peaceful our home is—especially when I hear the kids next door being difficult, loud, or whiny! I love how much my husband and I appreciate one another after surviving this journey together.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

M: I am so much more resilient than I ever knew! Even when I’m overwhelmed with tears of grief, I feel my strength. I know the tears will pass and that I’ll be okay. Life has run me over many times, and yet I’m still standing. I’m proud of that.

 

How are you faring today? We’d love to hear about your journey, wherever you are on your path toward acceptance, 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.

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: People Who Shouldn’t Have Kids

I’ve had to take a break from the news and social media recently. It seems as if nothing good is happening in the world. As if all the terror attacks, politics, natural disasters, and deadly diseases weren’t enough, I find story after story that prompted this week’s topic:

People who shouldn’t be allowed to have kids

 It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s making you furious this week?

It Got Me Thinking…About Being Childless and Single

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

One of the many beautiful things about our community here at Life Without Baby is the variety of voices and perspectives we’ve brought together. We’ve created a safe place here where we can cry, offer support, share hard-earned wisdom, and even whine about our different yet similar experiences. But as I read through recent posts and revisit older gems, I feel there’s one segment of our group that we need to encourage to join in more. Single gals: This is your invitation to speak up!

The whole childfree-by-chance-or-circumstance status is painful, period, and I’d like those of us who are lucky to be in happy relationships to pause and acknowledge the quagmire of emotions when it’s compounded by the whole single-not-by-choice scenario. In my case, I spent my youth dreaming about the family I would create for myself. My 20s contained a series of disappointments and heartbreaks. By my early 30s, I hated how women (and men) would come up to me at weddings and baby showers and say “You’re next!” when I wanted so desperately to be part of the married and mommy clubs. Every time I heard what was intended as encouragement, it came across as another acknowledgement of my failings.

It got worse when I hit 40. I’d be standing in the middle of a country club, draped in a hideous bridesmaid dress, toes crammed in hideous shoes, smile frozen on my face while I stood among the other single ladies hoping to catch the bouquet and magically change my fate. I’d look around at all the seemingly happily married couples and think, Everyone else has given up on me too. I felt myself growing invisible, and I don’t want any of us to feel that way.

Platitudes such as “It will happen when you least expect it…God must have a plan for you to birth something else…You need to love yourself more, then love will find you” just don’t fly here. At LWB, we’re about having real, open, and often painful discussions about who we are and what we experience. Through our efforts, we hope to promote awareness and acceptance, to create a more inclusive culture, and to heal ourselves.

So, if you’re a gal who happens to be childless and single, join the conversation. Comment on posts and share your unique perspectives. Check out the “childless couples—childless singles” discussion initiated by Elena K. Start your own discussion or create a group on our Home page. Or, consider sharing your story by completing and submitting the questionnaire for Our Stories.

Please share your hurts, your reflections, your questions, your experiences. I wish I could have told my younger self, “You matter. You have something to contribute. You are appreciated and loved just as you are.” If you need to hear that, your LWB sisters are here to remind you that it’s true.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is telling more of 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.

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.

 

 

 

 

The Two Sides of Childfree Freedom

By Lisa Manterfield

This year has been another busy year for travel. Between work-related trips and visits to family and friends, I’m feeling as if I’ve spent more time away from home than at home.

I’m not complaining. I enjoy travel and I’m also aware, if I had children, I couldn’t be doing this. If I had school schedules and missed classes to deal with, or frankly even if I had to find the money for three round-trip tickets instead of just one, it wouldn’t be feasible. Being childless not only allows me the do the fun things without worry, it leaves me free to take care of the other things that are important to me, namely my family—in particular my mother and husband.

There’s a downside to this freedom and independence, too. People often have expectations that a person without children is a person with nothing important to do, which equals the first person to be called when a favor is needed. Do you know what I mean?

Although my geographically undesirable location means I’m usually the last person to be called in for family help, some of my friends are given more than their share of the responsibility because of their childlessness. Quite often they’re called upon to organize family gatherings, take care of sick relatives, or just run errands because the family members with children don’t have the time.

I know that my childlessness affords me more freedom than many of peers who are mothers, but that doesn’t mean I’m sitting around idly looking for something to do. If I had children, my life would be full. But guess what? Because I don’t have children, I’ve made certain my life is still full, whether others believe it is or not.

What do you think? Do family members assume because you don’t have kids you have nothing but time on your hands? Do you feel the lion’s share of family duties falls to you? And what are the advantages of freedom and independence you do get to enjoy?