Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Do You Ever Get Over Being Childless-Not-By-Choice?

By Lisa Manterfield

I’ve run this post several times over the years, but it remains one of the hottest topics and the question I’m most often often asked. If you’ve been a reader for while, think of this as a chance to look back and see how far you’ve come.

The question is: is it possible to ever get over being unable to have children?

I can’t see far enough ahead to know for sure if infertility and being childless is something I will ever “get over,” but based on another life-changing experience, here’s what I think:

When I was 15, my dad passed away suddenly and everything changed for me. I remember feeling immediately alienated from the other kids in school because I was no longer like them. I felt as if everyone was staring at me to see how I behaved, to see what someone with a dead dad looked like. People didn’t know what to say me, so many just said nothing. Several adults said variations of “This will make you grow up quickly” so I took them at their word and forged a new grown-up path.

For many years, my dad’s death defined me and I saw everything in my life through that filter. I felt angry and rebelled against people who had living parents, especially if they didn’t appreciate them. Unexpected things would trigger my grief and those old emotions would come at me from nowhere.

Over time, this eased. I went about my life and slowly, the fact that I didn’t have a dad no longer factored in. The trigger situations became less frequent and I thought about his death less and less.

It’s now been 30 years since he passed away. His death no longer directly colors my life. It is something I experienced a long time ago and found my way through. I think about him sometimes, but mostly with fondness and only occasionally do I think about the traumatic time around his death.

I have never forgotten my dad, nor will I ever forget him. His memory and my loss are woven into the fabric of my being, but don’t identify me as someone who has lost. I can say that I am “over” the loss of my dad, but I will never forget that he’s no longer here.

So, now if I go back over this story and replace the loss of my father with the loss of the children I never had, I imagine the story will unfold in much the same way. I’m already on the road to healing. Situations that cause my grief to flare up are very rare these days and the traumatic period of my life is blending into my library of memories. I am well on the way to being “over” infertility and the loss I experienced because of it, but it will always be a part of who I am and I don’t expect I will ever forget.

If you’re struggling to navigate the “getting over it” road, you’ll find lots of help and ideas in Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen.

It’s on sale, along with my first book, I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood, for only $2.99 until the end of March.

 

Our Stories: Wendy

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

As soon as I finished reading Wendy’s story, I sent her an email: “I understand.” Oh, how I understand. I’ve felt all the anger and bitterness, I’ve raged at how unfair Life has been, and I’ve experienced that same glimmer of hope when I finally realized I was not alone and found the courage to reach out for help.

I hope you’ll share some words of encouragement and compassion to Wendy in the Comments, and please take a moment to acknowledge that the Comments written by other LWBers are meant for you too.

Sending out extra love to all of you today. ♥Kathleen

 

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

Wendy: Circumstance. Married at 24, tried three rounds of AIH [artificial insemination by husband] at 27 (what was recommended before you consider trying IVF), found out I had Hodgkin lymphoma at 30. Decided to try adoption, but was told after a few steps in that, because I was in remission from cancer, I couldn’t adopt for seven years. We sold our house and went travelling around Australia for a couple of years. When we came back home, I was feeling unwell, so I went to doctors who thought I might be pregnant. I got excited, then had a test to discover I had fibroid so big I had to have a hysterectomy at 37. I had the hysterectomy and recovered in the maternity ward. (There were no other beds available, even with a request from me.) It was pretty gut-wrenching seeing mothers with babies! I asked the hospital for my womb so I could bury it myself, and they agreed, but my husband was not happy with my decision. From there my marriage broke up, and we divorced when I was 40.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Wendy: I moved interstate at 40, and I am remarried to a man with four teenage children who I feel I keep at arm’s length. I am at a point now, at 53, where I realise I had no counselling or grief support during the whole process for over 25 years. My personality has changed. I get angry and depressed. I get annoyed when people say “You have four stepchildren, you should be happy.” They just don’t get it. Yes, my stepchildren are loving, but they are not mine. They have a mother, and I will never have a mini me. I have come to a point where I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I need to actually grieve and have someone understand. So, thank you for reading this.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Wendy: I thought I could be strong and cope on my own and keep it inside, but I can’t. I am a strong woman, but I was too stubborn. I should have asked for support a long time ago, which makes me wonder how much better I would have felt earlier/now.

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

Wendy: I still haven’t worked that one out. It depends on the person asking. If they seem genuine, then I am more genuine with my answer.

LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you? (or What advice would you like to give to your younger self?)

Wendy: Get help and support asap. Talk to someone who understands. Don’t wait 25 to 30 years and become bitter, angry, or depressed.

LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)?

Wendy: Xena, Princess Warrior.

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Wendy: I have been able to express my feelings to others who have been through similar.

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

Wendy: I am finally seeking out help to grieve.

 

I hear again and again from contributors what a healing experience it is to answer these questions and share their stories with other readers who truly get what they’re going through—and who rise up to offer support and encouragement. Won’t you consider sharing your story? Visit the Our Stories page for more information and to download the questionnaire. I hope to hear from you soon.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is so grateful to be part of this community of wise, loving, and brave women.

 

 

It Got Me Thinking…About The Brighter Side

Last week I wrote about “The Dark Side,” so it seems only right that this week I flip the coin. Doesn’t that always seem to be the case? The good comes with the bad, the happy with the sad, the dark with the light. But frequently during the past several years I’ve caught myself thinking that I’ve had more than my share of the dark, often brought on by the not-nice-people (NNPs) who have crossed my rocky path:

  • the client who just decided not to pay me after I sacrificed my Christmas to help her with a big project
  • the “friend” who kept sharing posts about how you can’t understand “real” love until you’re a mom
  • the doctor who continued to ask (year after year) if I have children (Read the damn file!)

Recently I’ve become better about practicing a way to flip this. In the midst of the hating and wishing them ill (I’m being honest here), I stop myself, take a deep breath, release the NNP, and focus my attention the 99.9% of people who are doing good in the world, who are generous, thoughtful, helpful, and kind. Some of the recent bright lights in my life include:

  • the former work colleagues I bumped into at a restaurant who surprised me by paying for my lunch
  • the angel who fed my parking meter seconds before I would have gotten a pricey ticket
  • the longtime friend who called out of the blue just to say “Hi” then really listened when she asked how I was doing

You know who else falls into this camp? The men and women of LWB. The people who candidly share their stories of loss and healing. The commenters who support, commiserate, and encourage. The members of the forums and groups. The many quiet readers who see themselves in the stories on our pages and offer up prayers for healing and peace.

For a few moments this week, I hope you’ll think about who has lifted you up lately, who has held, helped, comforted, or sustained you. If you’re facing hard times, stop, take a deep breath, and hold one of those angels close in your heart. For, yes, there is darkness in our world, and it comes in many forms. But, oh, the joy of finding the light!

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

It Got Me Thinking…About the Dark Side

 

“I’m pregnant!” my friend gleefully announces.

And I think, Well, f*ck me six ways to Sunday, but I instead I jump up and embrace her and say, “Congratulations!!! I am so happy for you!”

Yup, another one has gone over to the Dark Side. My playmate, my buddy, my date for tea and chick-flicks will soon switch discussion topics from the last great novel she read to the merits of cloth versus disposable diapers and the challenges of getting into the “right” preschool/private school/ballet studio. While I bravely continue to pursue political movements, investing options, and the hottest new tapas restaurant this side of the Bay, she’ll be focusing on PTA politics, college funds, and how to get her kid to eat green vegetables.

Before long, the excuses for missing lunch dates (sick baby, sick kid, soccer games) will grow tiresome. She’ll kindly include me in the first few get-togethers with her new friends from the mommies group. I’ll make polite conversation when I’m invited to baby showers and first birthday parties. But eventually I’ll get lost in the mist as she gets sucked into more and more “family” events and senses how much more she has in common with the other reproducers. “Whatever happened to your friend Kathy?” they might ask. “Oh, she never had kids.” “Ohhh,” they will say knowingly. Or so I imagine. This is worse than being the last kid picked for teams. This is being told you can’t even play the game, but if you want, you can watch from the bleachers.

And I’m pissed. But mostly I’m lonely. It’s really, really hard to make new friends when you’re over the age of 40 (and don’t have kids who make making those regular interactions easier). You have to make a determined effort to get out, try new classes, start new groups, and hope to find a connection. It’s not unlike dating, and it can be really exciting, but mostly scary and discouraging. But you carry on, remembering the closeness you once shared with old friends who, over time, could read your thoughts and finish your sentences.

Within the first three years after I moved to my current home city, several of the women who I thought could become part of my new posse became first-time mothers. I didn’t know they were trying; we hadn’t known each other that long, so the topic never came up. A couple had been trying for years, and became pregnant shortly after meeting me. Lisa (our LWB Lisa) found this hilarious and suggested I offer myself out as a fertility icon: Become friends with me, and you’ll be knocked up within 3 months—guaranteed!

After the fourth announcement, I broke down and told my husband how crushed I was, how broken-hearted, how devastating this was to my developing social life. He laughed at me, pointing out how ridiculous I sounded for getting so overly dramatic and self-pitying. And he’s right. Because, really, I was happy for my friends.

But for a short while, I need to lose my perspective and my sense of humor, wallow in self-pity, mourn the loss of my friend, and spend some time on my own Dark Side. Because underneath my happiness for her, I still hurt for myself.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods recently signed up for a 6:00 am Pilates class. She’s hoping to meet other working non-moms there.

Whiny Wednesday: Infertility Amnesia


A friend of mine went through infertility hell a few years ago. When we learned of one another’s journeys, we were both glad to have an empathetic shoulder to lean on.

Then she became a mother, and developed infertility amnesia.

I’m not begrudging her the celebrations, the constant Facebook posts, or the incessant parenting talk. I get it; I’m sure I’d do the same in her situation. But the final straw came last week.

A group of us gets together about once a year and we’re starting to plan for this year. We usually go out for dinner, or bowling, or drinks and dancing. Several of us in the group don’t have children and those who do are always glad for a childfree night of adult fun.

This year, the new mom suggested we change things up and do something family-oriented and include the kids. “Maybe a beach picnic or Disneyland.” I kid you not.

Thankfully one of the other parents shot the idea down, but I had to wonder how she would have felt five years ago, in the thick of her infertility hell, if someone had made this same suggestion.

She would have felt excluded and she would have been upset. Which is just how I felt when I got her email.

Today is Whiny Wednesday. Who or what has done you wrong this week?

Our Stories Update: Kellie

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I’ve been revisiting some of our early posts, and as I re-read some of the Our Stories columns, I found myself wondering, “How is she doing today?” So I asked.

Following is Kellie’s story, which first appeared in April of 2014. At the end, she shares where she is now. Whether you’re new to the Life Without Baby community or in the midst of your journey and still struggling, I hope this update will renew your hope for your future.

•   •   •

Kellie was 19 years old when she got married for the first time, and although she always knew she wanted children, starting a family was never discussed in 14 years of marriage. “I never felt the desire to have his children,” she says. A few years after her divorce, she met her current husband, who, like her, was waiting for the “right one to come along.” Although the odds were stacked against them (Kellie was 39 when they got married), they decided to try for the family they both wanted.

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

Kellie: After six months of trying the old-fashioned way, we were told that I had premature ovarian failure. We moved on to IVF, then to using donor eggs, which we attempted three times. We finally decided it was time to get off the roller coaster, work on our marriage (as infertility can definitely take a toll on that), and figure out what Plan B looks like for us.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Kellie: I feel like I am somewhere in the acceptance stage, but at times, even at 45 years old, I still hope for a miracle. I am officially in menopause and know this is completely unrealistic, but I still get moments of “What if?” Maybe that would be a bit of denial as well.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Kellie: The turning point for me was after I read Lisa’s book (I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home). Up until then, I felt like I was the only one going through this; I was so alone. I would get on the Internet and look for blogs, forums, really anything or anyone that I could relate to or who could relate to me, but what I usually found were topics and discussions on ways to “help you get pregnant”, whether it’s eating this or that, stop stressing, etc., and there were always the success stories that went along with this. I just couldn’t relate. There would be no success story for me, no miracle pregnancy, and I felt so hopeless, a complete failure, and at times suicidal. Somewhere along the way Lisa’s book popped up. I read it, realized I wasn’t alone in this hell, and a peace came over me that I just can’t explain. I joined her blog and have never looked back. I no longer feel shame, and I am no longer embarrassed to tell my story if someone asks.

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

Kellie: Not being able to give my husband a child. I often thought I should leave him to give him the chance to find someone younger and fertile.

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

Kellie: The freedom to do whatever we want, whenever we want. We are also not nearly as financially strapped as we would be if we had children.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Kellie: While on three years of hormone injections, I learned I can be a real bitch! Just ask my husband. J Actually, I am stronger emotionally and mentally then I ever thought I was.

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

Kellie: First and foremost, be true to yourself. People who have children will never truly understand what it’s like to be infertile. This includes family as well. I lost a very good friend over this because she just couldn’t understand what I was going through and only offered criticism and judgment about the way I was handling our loss. Furthermore, if you are invited to baby showers, birthday parties, etc., and you really don’t want to go, DON’T GO! Do not ever let anyone make you feel bad for your decision. In time, these events will become easier, but until then, do not force yourself to do anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable. And please do not feel guilty for putting yourself first.

•   •   •

LWB: Where are you on your journey today?

Kellie 2018: I am embracing Plan B. There are still moments when I get sad, usually around the holidays, but these feelings don’t last for very long anymore. When we realized that children were not in our future, we knew that a lot of traveling would be. We have held true to that by taking at least two long vacations per year plus many long weekends. I have a very full and happy life. Every so often, my husband and I talk about being childless; like myself, he gets sad at times about not having a child. But last night we were discussing the latest school shooting in Florida, and we just couldn’t imagine being those parents who were wondering if it was their child that didn’t make it out alive. I am grateful that we don’t have that worry! Overall, we both love where we are in life and look forward to many more adventures as a family of two!

LWB: What would you like to say to the you of 2014?

Kellie 2018: YOU ARE NOT ALONE! That was one of the hardest things for me, as I felt no one understood what I was going through. LWB was the biggest help getting me through the depression of not having children. Knowing there were others who were going through what I was going through, or had gone through it, gave me hope that I could get through it too. My best advice is to find a way to get your feelings out by talking to someone who you don’t feel judged by or by writing what you are feeling. I kept my feelings inside until I read Lisa’s book (I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home), then I started writing a blog just so I could get my feeling out among others in my tribe. It was very rewarding as I was able to help others while others were helping me.

Be kind to yourself. I struggled with feeling like I was being judged by others as I couldn’t give my husband a child and our parents a grandchild. Over time, I realized I was mostly judging myself. It took time to not blame myself and to not feel like I failed as a woman, but in time and with the support of others and an amazing husband, I was able to move through this. Stop the negative self talk and remind yourself that this is not your fault.

Do not feel guilty for your feelings and step back when you need to. If you don’t feel you can be around celebrations such as birthday parties and baby showers (I’m still not a fan of baby showers, so I rarely go), then don’t put yourself into those situations. It’s okay to give yourself permission not to attend. You are not being selfish, you are taking care of YOU!

 

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 feeling so very grateful for this community of brave and wise women.

It Got Me Thinking…About Facebook Sickness

I’m convinced I’ve picked up a new form of morning sickness. The primary symptom of “Facebook Sickness” is feeling nauseated every time a “friend” posts yet another comment or photo updating her (or his wife’s) pregnancy. It’s an epidemic:

“Here’s a picture of me at week 5! Feeling blessed!” (Looking no different than you looked at week 4.5.)

“Here’s the latest ultrasound image!” (Still looks like a blob of nothing to me.)

“Today my pregnant wife is craving ice cream!” (I crave ice cream every day. Big whoop.)

“I’m kicking my mommy today. Love, Baby Girl Smith” (“I barfed up some grass and a few remnants of the missing tennis ball on the hallway carpet today. Love, Louie the dog.”)

I can’t comment with all the clever-ish comments I’m really thinking because that would be rude…and, well, I actually am happy for these people. But I am SO OVER the daily belly photos that I am tempted to post one of my own:

“Here’s a picture of my belly at 51 years, 7 months, and 5 days. Still fat.”

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is feeling cranky today, and it has nothing to do with any kind of hormonal imbalance.

It Got Me Thinking…About Nurturing Friendships

A nearby friend recently posted something on Facebook , a personal ad of sorts, which included…

Seeking friends to:

  • go on hikes
  • talk about books
  • go to the occasional chick-flick matinee
  • plan how we might help victims of the recent fires and floods
  • have conversations about how we might make the world a better place

Reading it at my desk, I wanted to raise my hand and shout, “ME! Pick me!” Except for one small problem: She’d labeled her request:

Seeking Mom Friends

I would love to do all of the activities on her list with her, and the great irony of being excluded from her search is that I—unlike her friends who are moms, who she complained were bailing on her because they are too busy with their kids—I have the time and energy to do them with her.

For about a minute I thought about replying anyway and suggesting that maybe a renewed friendship with me was worth nurturing. But then I read further down the list about how she also wants to talk about mom stuff with these friends.

You know what, she’s on her own.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with her childless status.

 

 

 

Whiny Wednesday: Being Lonely Without Children


Some years ago, a young relative asked why I didn’t have children. I gave him an explanation that was honest, while also being appropriate for a young boy.

And then he asked me, “But won’t you be lonely?”

To this I responded that I had Mr. Fab and that I’d be fine. But actually, I think he may have hit a nerve, because even though I value the quiet time I have, sometimes it can feel a little lonely.

It’s Whiny Wednesday, what truths have hit a nerve with you?

It Got Me Thinking…About Half-Truths

My friend Kim* is an amazing pediatric dentist. Not only is she highly skilled, but she is passionate about what she feels is her calling. I have always admired her and, quite honestly, have at times been envious as I see her in action, see how her patients L-O-V-E her, see how energized she is by her work. In fact, it doesn’t seem appropriate to call it “work” because she glows when she is in her element and even outside when she talks about it.

So I was stunned when she announced she was letting go of her practice.

“What?! Why?”

“It sucks the life out of me, it takes too much energy, and I’m exhausted,” she said.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said. But that wasn’t entirely what I was thinking. See, Kim now also has a one-year-old daughter. Her job hadn’t changed. She’d never found it life-sucking before, quite the contrary. No, it is being a parent that is sapping her energy and making her too tired to continue to enjoy her job. I was saddened to hear that she was choosing to sacrifice her first great love, and also to hear that she was misplacing the blame.

But while I was quick to judge, once I took a step back and looked at the big picture, what I felt was compassion. I realized this was perhaps her way—consciously or unconsciously—of making peace with her sacrifice in her own mind. I do the same thing when people ask me why I don’t want kids and I respond by joking that my dogs take all the parenting urges out of me. Oh, I wanted kids, but I didn’t get to have them, and rather than have a complete meltdown in public, I deliver a half-baked “excuse.” I could easily imagine myself telling one of those strangers, “I just don’t have the energy to be a parent” versus revealing the fully honest and painful reasons for my childlessness.

When I think about it from my heart, I realize Kim and I aren’t all that different. We’ve both lost something we wanted, we’ve both sacrificed big dreams, and we’ve both lied to ourselves in an effort to salve the wounds. It makes me think that if we could be more honest with ourselves, and if we could then better communicate our real feelings with each other, there would be a smaller divide between the moms and non-moms.

We’re all women, doing the best we can with the paths we’ve been given. I hope that by being aware of this, the next time I am at the receiving end of a half-truth, I will bypass judgment and instead model understanding and compassion.

*Her name and details have been changed to protect her privacy.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods, truth be told, continues to struggle with making peace with being childless.