filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Happy Whiny Wednesday! I hope you’re doing okay today. If not, this is the place to get it off your chest.
This week we turn to spotlight on the men in our lives and discuss the topic of:
Spouses or partners who aren’t dealing or healing
If you have one of these, we’d like to hear to about it.
This week’s topic is the antithesis of the “People who talk about nothing but their kids” topic, but it can be just as difficult to deal with:
People who assume you don’t want to be around their kids
Feel free to bring your own topics to the comments if this isn’t what’s on your nerves this week.
By Lisa Manterfield
During my years of trying to conceive, I worked in the corporate world. I managed a department of about eight people. When I first took the position, only one member of my staff had children. By the end of two years, only two of us remained childless. I had three pregnant women in my department at one point, and every new announcement was followed by “It’s your turn next.” Of course, my turn never came.
There are so many challenges in the workplace when you don’t have children. There are cubicles festooned with photos of children, lunch groups dominated by kid talk, and family-oriented company picnics. There’s also the challenge of some parents using their parental responsibilities as an excuse to bend the rules and not pull their weight. And, of course, there are the inevitable pregnancy announcements and subsequent baby showers.
What are some of the workplace challenges you face and how have you found ways to navigate them?
This week’s topic is a tough one.
Any unexpected pregnancy announcement can be hard to handle, but it becomes even more tricky when the new arrival is a family member. So, this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is:
Trying to be happy about a birth in the family
As always, any topic is open for whining, so let it fly.
By Lisa Manterfield
I’ve had several e-mails recently asking for information about regional in-person groups for women who are childless-not-by-choice. Unfortunately, I’ve never had anything valuable to offer as no such groups existed, but thanks to Jody Day at Gateway Women, they do now.
Here’s a post that Jody wrote on her blog about the meet-ups she’s set up so far. In there, she also includes links to the meet-up sites for each country.
My experience with meeting other women in a “childless-not-by-choice” group has been a feeling of belonging and not having to worry about being asked if I have children and enduring one of those long, awkward pauses when I say I don’t. I’ve been able to talk openly about shared experiences and also chatted about all kinds of other topics having nothing at all to do with being childless. It’s a great opportunity to find common ground in a safe environment.
Do let me know if you go along to one of these meet-ups. I’d love to hear how it went.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I can’t get into the details (lawsuit pending), but let’s just say I have been exposed to the dark side of a very not-nice person (NNP). As I’ve prepared to do the right thing and hold NNP accountable, I’ve had some very dark days. My stress level has been through the roof. I’ve anticipated every possible good outcome and every possible bad outcome. I’ve awakened in the middle of the night panicked. I’ve cried, I’ve sworn, I’ve pleaded with God to Give me an f-ing break!
Now, I realize NNP hasn’t lost a wink of sleep; I know I am the only one suffering at a deep level, and I know I have some forgiveness work ahead of me. (Fodder for another post, I’m sure.)
In the meantime, in the midst of all the darkness, I found myself being warmed by some very bright lights in the form of extreme kindness from strangers: The attorney who provided me with counsel then waived his fees. The volunteers who guided me through complicated paperwork. The friend who heard about my situation, called upon another friend, who called another friend, who stepped up and stepped in to help me.
My beautiful epiphany is in recognizing how easy it is to redirect my focus away from the NNPs and to the 99.9% of people who are doing good in the world, who are generous, thoughtful, helpful, and kind.
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.
Yes, there is darkness in our world, it comes in many forms. But, oh, the joy of finding the light!
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
By Lisa Manterfield
That’s me, living life to the fullest in trapeze class earlier this year.
I got caught out again this year with a bout of the Holiday Blues.
After a really fun and non-traditional Thanksgiving with wonderful friends, I headed into December ready to celebrate the holidays my way. Then Bam! I came down with the Holiday Blues.
There will always be things I wish were part of my festive season, like hand-delivering gifts to my family, shopping for small children, and creating the kind of Christmas I had as a child. But it wasn’t theses losses and what-ifs that gave me the blues this year.
Maybe it was the rainy weather that kept me indoors for much of the week. Maybe it was the end of year racing towards me highlighting the things that didn’t get accomplished this year. Or maybe it’s that Christmas doesn’t really feel like something to celebrate anymore.
Finally, I took my own advice, and that of a couple of friends, and dusted myself off. I bought a tree, made plans for Christmas Eve dinner at a favorite restaurant, and wrote and sent my cards. And then I made myself a cup of tea and sliced off a chunk of proper English fruitcake, and I curled up in a chair and wrote in my journal.
I made a list of everything good that happened this year—all the fun things I did (see photo, for one), the challenges I overcame, the goals I reached this year, the friends I spent time with, the family I visited.
And guess what I discovered? It’s been another great year this year. I have lived my life, perhaps not always to the fullest, but to the best that I was able. And I had a good time doing it.
That, I think, is plenty of reason to celebrate.
By Lisa Manterfield
Imagine you have a good friend who experiences a death in the family right before the holidays. She’s dealing with funeral arrangements and in among the holiday cards that people sent before they got the news are sympathy cards and notes of condolence. She has her loved one’s belongings to go through and her mind is anywhere but on the holidays. She is mourning and there is little or no room in her grief for festivities.
You understand this and so you forgive your friend when she doesn’t send a card or a gift this year. You don’t expect her to attend the annual get-together you usually have with your group of friends. Instead, you check in on her to make sure she’s okay and you let her know that you’re there for her if she needs anything. You both know next year will be different, that she’ll be back celebrating with you, even though this will always be a difficult time of year for her.
If you’re in the earliest stages of your journey, where perhaps your latest round of IVF has failed or you’ve just come to the realization that children aren’t going to be part of your plan, you’re also grieving a great loss. The difference is, most people around you aren’t going to understand why you aren’t in the holiday spirit and they’re going to expect you to attend events, show up with gifts, and contribute to the merriment. They probably won’t make the same concessions you would make for your friend, so it’s up to you to treat yourself as kindly as you would treat her.
If this year feels too difficult for you, consider taking the year off.
Seriously, what would happen if you didn’t send out cards this year? What would happen if you mailed gift certificates instead of subjecting yourself to the mall and all its triggering festivities to shop for gifts? Do you have to decorate? Can you make excuses for parties you don’t want to attend? Could you even take a year off from whatever family obligations you might have?
It’s just one year. Will the people you love disown you? Some might be upset and yes, there’ll be that relative or friend who’ll never let you not forget, but odds are, most will forgive and forget.
We often try so hard to be there for other people, to meet their expectations and give them the holiday experience they want. But maybe this year you could give yourself what you need instead.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
A buddy of mine, let’s call him Heath, works in PR in the entertainment industry, and he’s in the thick of a campaign for a new movie. One of the stars is making the rounds of various talk shows, and Heath is accompanying her.
Today I found myself laughing until tears flowed as Heath told me about her recent meeting with a young producer. He was prepping her for a TV interview and repeatedly advised her to tell a few “antidotes.”
“If you can start with an antidote…answer with an antidote…wrap up with a funny antidote….”
Now we all know he meant “anecdote,” but he was working so hard to do his job and impress this big star he had been assigned to prep, that she couldn’t bring herself to correct (and publicly embarrass) him. I appreciate her graciousness, and I appreciate Heath for telling me this story because it’s funny and sweet and we have all, at one time or another, been this eager young guy.
And it made me think about all the inappropriate things people say to us childfree women. With very few exceptions, none of the comments are mean-spirited. Most people who reach out are trying to love and support us, albeit at times clumsily and horribly. They don’t want to hurt us, and they are doing the very best that they can to navigate unfamiliar and treacherous territory. Maybe we can’t bring ourselves to laugh at their bumbling efforts, but I think I can find it in my heart to accept their efforts, to show them some compassion, and to just appreciate that someone really really wants to help.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
By Lisa Manterfield
This week we celebrate Thanksgiving here in the U.S. and, for the first time in a long time, I am looking forward to it. We are bucking tradition this year and spending the day with good friends, including another childfree couple. Mr. Fab is cooking a decidedly nontraditional Thanksgiving dinner, so all I’ll have to do, aside from a few sous chef duties, is show up and have a good time.
I know for many of you, Thanksgiving might not be such a fun time. Traditionally, it’s a holiday when families gather, which might mean facing insensitive relatives and prying questions about children. It also marks the beginning of what can often be the most difficult time of the year, with social gatherings, kid-oriented activities, and constant reminders of the many ways we don’t get to celebrate the holidays.
I love that this community includes new readers and seasoned pros, so let’s help one another out this year by sharing ideas on getting through the season with our hearts intact.
What are some of the issues you know you’ll face this holiday season? What events are you dreading? What’s going to be hardest for you?
And perhaps most important of all, how to do plan to get through the season with minimum emotional damage?
For more tips, inspiration, and support, check out the Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, available now at Amazon.com.
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