Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Our Stories: Heather

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our Stories“When I was a little girl,” Heather says, “I always wanted to have a baby, just one.” But she was not able to be a mother, first by chance and later through choice when she chose to stop pursuing infertility treatments. Now 39, Heather and her husband are embracing their own Plan B, a childfree plan. Here’s her story.

LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood.

Heather: I had dreams of loving, caring, and teaching my child all about life. I wanted to be a mother who gave my child humor and memories, a mother who would support and enjoy my child’s journey in life.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Heather: After the last IVF, they called to tell me that my levels had turned low—meaning a miscarriage. I went upstairs into my bathroom, took everything from the IVF and bagged it up, took it to the trash, and told myself that enough was enough. I needed to get myself back.

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

Heather: Being excluded from my friend’s lives when they talk about their kids. Or being left out of the birthday parties because I don’t have kids, so they think that I won’t want to attend. (I buy the best gifts!)

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Heather: That I love my quiet time. That I don’t have the patience for kids around me all the time. I believe that there are places kids should not be—salons, swanky restaurants and bars, concerts—and I enjoy going there.

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

Heather: Just because I don’t have children of my own, doesn’t mean that I don’t “like” them. I am a great aunt, a great friend to young teens that my friends and family have. I want people to know that I wanted kids, it just was something that was not meant for me to do.

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

Heather: This question still bothers me. I usually just say “No, I don’t have kids.” If people would leave it at that…but most of the time they follow that with “Are you going to?” It depends on who asks and the situation itself, but my favorite answer is “No. Do you?” It usually takes them aback, and I smile deep down.

LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)? What about her inspires you?

Heather: I read an article a couple months ago about stars who don’t have children. Cameron Diaz stated that she doesn’t have kids, and she has a great life because of that. It makes me happy, because my husband and I have a great life, we are free to do what we want, when we want. I lean on that when I feel bad for myself.

 

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

“Our Stories” is taking a short hiatus until September. If you’ve enjoyed reading the column and would like to add your voice to the conversation, we’d love to hear from you. Sharing your experience with others makes you realize you’re not alone, and your story could help someone who is struggling to feel heard.

Please visit the “Our Stories” page to find more about the column and get information about how to share your story. ♥

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayIt’s Whiny Wednesday and this week we have another hot button topic suggested by a reader:

The men who wasted our fertile years

Whether it’s the relationship you fought hard to make work, the “perfect” man who never quite grew up, or the spouse who suddenly decided fatherhood wasn’t for him.

If you have one, you can whine about it here. If not, the floor is open, as always, to all topics in whinification.

The Power of Voice

By Lisa Manterfield

MP900433193Last weekend I attended the 2014 World Domination Summit in Portland, OR, where I spent the weekend surrounded by creative types and some incredible people looking to make a difference in the world. It was truly an inspiring experience.

While I took something of value away from every speaker who presented, every story I heard, and every person I met and talked with, there were, as always, standouts.

One speaker, Shannon Galpin, told her story of traveling to Afghanistan to provide education programs for women and girls in conflict zones. She talked about going into a women’s prison in Kandahar to interview some of the women and girls being held there. She was concerned that these women, already in danger because of their actions, would not be willing to speak to her and tell their stories. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

So many women wanted to talk to her, she ended up spending hours over the course of several days sitting with them and recording their stories. At the end of her time, one woman unclipped her elaborate hair clip and offered it as a thank you gift. “No one has ever cared enough to hear our stories,” she said. This experience prompted Shannon’s wonderful TED Talk on pity, apathy, and the power of voice, which I encourage you to watch when you have 10 minutes to spare.

The sentiment also struck a deep chord in me as I thought more about this idea of sharing stories and having a voice. It made me think about some of the conversations I’ve had about why I don’t have children, how the topic is met with pity or apathy, or handled with platitudes about whether we tried x or y treatment or if we considered adoption. Even people who know and care about me have expressed their own discomfort about the frankness of what they’ve read in my book or one of my blog posts. It has sometimes felt as if no one really wants to hear the story of what happened and how much the loss of not getting something I really wanted—having a child of my own—has rippled into every aspect of my life.

But that isn’t going to stop me talking because, for every person who’s squirmed, I’ve come across ten who’ve said, “I appreciate your honesty” or “That’s exactly how I feel” or “Thank you for giving me a voice.”

Earlier this year, we launched “Our Stories” on this site. Since then, we’ve featured almost two dozen of your voices. Firstly, I want to send an enormous hug to everyone who had the courage to share her story. I always want to give a massive shout-out to Kathleen who created the column and worked with every storyteller.

Gwen shared her story and told Kathleen, “Putting my story out there and reading responses from women who have dealt with the same exact problems and feel the same way as I do… I am comforted and I do not feel so alone.”

And Maria said, “I felt like people connected with my story and it gave them hope. I feel like we are all here for a reason and that is my purpose right now—to take what I have learned and share it with others.”

This is the power of voice. This is why we keep telling our stories, even when it gets uncomfortable for us and even when it sparks pity or apathy in others.

Our Stories will be taking a short hiatus in August, as I take my customary summer break and rerun some of the year’s favorite posts. But we’ll be picking up again in September and we’d love to share your story.

You’ll find a questionnaire to get you started and details on how to submit on the Our Stories page. I hope this will help you to find your voice, inspire others, and know that you’re not alone.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayThis week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is that old chestnut:

The baby shower!

A reader wrote:

I would like to know how others handle baby showers. I have vowed to not go to any more baby showers after leaving the last one in tears and disappointed in myself because I felt so strong before I went. Do others have emotional issues about other people’s baby showers or am I alone?

After assuring her that she definitely was not alone in feeling this way, I thought I’d turn the topic over to you.

Please whine, rant, empathize, and even advise on this most delicate of topics.

Lessons Learned From The Brink: Know Your Love Language

By Paulina Grace Hay

HeartAfter living through a second miscarriage and the brink of divorce within a matter of months, I’ve gained some new crucial resources in my emotional toolbox. Here’s one lesson taught to me by a therapist that I come back to repeatedly. It made a huge impact in connecting with husband while I was dealing with the emotional roller coaster of infertility. When I begin to feel disconnected today, I come back to these basics.

Know Your Love Language

Have you ever felt like you were speaking to someone you love and feel like they didn’t understand you at all? I remember feeling like I spoke Chinese and my spouse French. We basically had no idea what the other was saying. As you can imagine, it’s hard to connect if you can’t communicate clearly or you don’t think you’re being heard.

Enter Dr. Gary Chapman and his best selling book called The 5 Love Languages. It’s truly the one book I think every person on this planet should be required to read. (The original version is about marriage, but it applies beautifully to dealing with human beings in general.)

According to Dr. Chapman and his extensive experience as marriage counselor, there are five love languages. Each one is a way to show love and to be shown love. You might have a primary and secondary one and even speak another. Here’s a brief overview with examples from my marriage and life:

Words of Affirmation:
If you like being praised or receiving a beautifully written note, this could be you. If you enjoy talking or writing, this might also be you. If someone criticizes you, it can feel like a slap in the face.

This is definitely my primary love language! I’m very verbal and my husband very quiet. When we would argue he would stop talking and shut down. Now he knows I’d much rather receive a personal note over a gift like jewelry.

Physical Touch:
This is not just about sex. It might be a hug, stroking hair, a pat on the back, or holding hands. This is my husband’s primary love language. When we would fight I’d say, “Don’t touch me” and “I want to be alone.” Total disaster for both of us! Now I make a point to give him several hugs and kisses during the day or just sit with him on the couch.

Acts of Service:
If you like doing things for other people, this could be you. This is a love language my husband uses to “speak” his love to me, even though I didn’t realize it for quite a while. It was my sister-in-law (who is married to my husband’s brother) who commented that “acts of service” is the love language that her husband “speaks” to her. It was like a light bulb went off. Now I make an extra point to say thank you and appreciate when my husband does things like walk the dog, take out the trash, and help my parents.

Receiving Gifts:
If you like giving gifts, small or large, this could be you. If someone doesn’t give you a gift (or doesn’t like your gift) and that upsets you, this could also be you.

My sister-in-law (married to my brother) is this love language. She would always bring me a trinket or something when they came to visit. (We have very different taste so I rarely enjoyed the gifts.) I’d exchange a holiday gift if I didn’t like it. I’d give my gifts to them with a gift receipt and didn’t think twice about it if they exchanged it. They never did. We were never very close. The following Christmas I saw a little statue with a mother and two young boys and it instantly made me think of my SIL. I bought it for her. When she opened the gift, which wasn’t extravagant, she cried like a baby. I knew I’d tapped into her love language. I stopped exchanging their gifts and told her how much I liked them. It’s gone a long way in improving our relationship.

Quality Time:
This one is all about giving another person your undivided attention. For women this often means face-to-face attention. Talking to your spouse while he’s watching television or staring at his phone is not undivided attention. My husband is really great now at pausing the television and talking to me when I need it. I try to be clear when I need his attention and say, “Is now a good time to talk? Let me know when you’re free.” It’s more respectful of his time and energy.

I’d love to hear what your love language is and if this information gives you new perspective on the relationships in your life. Not sure which one you are? Start here with the 5 Love Languages online quiz at:
http://www.5lovelanguages.com/profile/

If you’d like more information on the 5 Love Languages, visit Dr. Chapman’s website at:
http://www.5lovelanguages.com

Paulina Grace walked away from the infertility roller coaster six years ago. She hopes to help other women let themselves grieve and then let themselves live. Outside of running her own business, Paulina fulfills her need to nurture by being an involved aunt and caring for her aging parents.

Our Stories: Lee

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesLee is in a painful phase of her journey. She always wanted children, but was never able to conceive. Now 49, she describes her current feelings as somewhere “between sad and depressed.” Read on for more details, then, if you’ve been in her shoes and have made some progress toward acceptance of a life without children, please take a few minutes to offer her encouragement in the Comments.

LWB: Please briefly describe your dream of motherhood.

Lee: I was the oldest of five children, and we had many foster children in our home over the years. I always knew I’d have children, most likely a combination of through birth and adoption.

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

Lee: By chance, I was never able to get pregnant. We [she’s married] did not pursue any fertility interventions.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Lee: I’d say I vary between sad and depressed, but resigned, angry, and attempting to embrace Plan B.

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

Lee: There are so many facets to the sadness I feel. Sometimes it is things like not getting to feel a child growing inside of me, never getting to take those lovely baby bump photos, not having a baby shower. At other times it is things like missing the chance to raise children the way I think is the best, breastfeeding, baby wearing, co-sleeping, teaching my children to be confident and independent, compassionate and caring.

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

Lee: I was never able to have children. I do have a foster daughter who started living with us when she was 17. She is now 25.

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

Lee: The freedom to get up and go whenever and wherever we want, not having to worry about children in this changing and often scary world.

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

Lee: The fact that I did not bear children does not mean that I do not have knowledge about children. I babysat from the time I was 13 years old, and I have spent 28 years as a pediatric physical therapist. I have a lot of knowledge to offer.

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

Lee: To get my house and life in order so that I can do my crafts and have people over without stressing over my house!

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayThis hot-button whine was sent in from one of our readers:

When you read an interview of some celebrity or hear someone say

“I never knew what love was until I had a child.”

So…is she saying that because I’m childfree I’m not capable or “real” love, or because I’m childfree I will be denied the experience of the highest expression of love?

Whether this makes your blood boil or cuts you to the core, whine away, sisters!

And if you have another great whine you need to get off your chest this week, here’s the place to let it rip.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayGraduation 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:

Feelings of jealousy when friends and relatives celebrate the milestones of being parents and grandparents.


As always, your other whines are always welcome.

Shadow Lives

By Paula Coston

Image courtesy of Ideago/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of Ideago/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m 59 now, and over those close-on six decades I have mapped out in my mind an entire web of paths untaken. Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve. And for that reason, Chapter 7 of Jody Day’s book Rocking the Life Unexpected: 12 Weeks to Your Plan B for a Meaningful and Fulfilling Life without Children chimes with me. (Jody is the founder of Gateway Women, a British-based website for women childless by circumstance.)

The chapter’s first two sections are headed “The shadow of the life unlived” and “The dark side of daydreams.” She shares her own experience with searing frankness:

“For many years I’d been living two lives: one in which I was hoping for a baby and making the best of things till then, the other in which I had succeeded and had become a mother….

“At no point in that time… did I fully and completely embrace the life I was actually living—that of a childless woman….

“I think of the ‘shadow life’ as the life you dreamt about while your ‘real’ life was happening and … which … depleted the life you were actually living.”

We all have our path forks. A few of mine happened when:

– Somewhere in my childhood, I believed my family was encouraging me in the single, career-driven life, not a life of love and family.

– Over the years a couple of men proposed to me, both in fun. Friends laughed too, hearing about it.

– It became clear to me that one special lover had serious issues about parenthood, so when the option came up for us, I knew I had to forgo it.

– Neighbors and colleagues at work became grandmothers, and, like a photograph gradually developing, I soon saw that I never would.

Slowly, I’m coming to terms with these losses. These days, what fascinates me more is the way we persist in tracing and re-tracing these ghosts of roads untaken.

I wonder whether, once we surmount the pain, their rehearsal can bring us comfort. Why not trust that we’re living our shadow lives somewhere else close by, if it helps? Maybe the psyche is instinctively drawn to the idea of alternative realities. And if you’re a writer—like me—well, it’s unavoidable.

In 1964, a TV soap, Another World, started on NBC, set in the fictional town of Bay City. It was so popular that it ran till 1999! The co-creator Irna Phillips explained the idea behind it: “We do not live in this world alone, but in a thousand other worlds.” Bay City and its happenings represented to her the difference between “the world of events we live in, and the world of feelings and dreams that we strive for.”

Over the last four years, my best therapy has been to struggle with, and beat, writing a novel. It just came out on June 27, entitled On the Far Side, There’s a Boy. It tells the tale of a woman who doesn’t know that she even contemplates having children until she begins to dream—of one particular boy in Sri Lanka, whom she has known only through letters, so only half-known—and to see that he is what she wanted: even, what she may still want. It’s a kind of fantasy experience, parallel to her real life.

Aptly, her story echoes much that has happened to me. So these days, I’m learning to live with my shadow lives, to let them be and wend their ways, sometimes even to enjoy them.

I think I’ll term myself an AMo. Meaning “I love” in Latin, it also suggests that I’m a kind of Alternative Mother, somehow living both lives, the one I have and the one I didn’t, in harmony.

Paula Coston’s On the Far Side, There’s a Boy is available in paperback and e-book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/paulacoston

Our Stories: Justine

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesSerious back problems (including surgeries and a year spent in a body cast) in her youth caused Justine to never be able to carry a pregnancy, so she didn’t think much about becoming a mother. Then the gestational surrogacy option became a media darling, and she started to think about new possibilities for creating a family. Justine and her husband endured two rounds of IVF, two transfers, and the loss of three potential babies. She’s 34 now. They have stopped all treatments, know that adoption is not an option, and are actively working to accept a childfree life together. Here’s some of her story.

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

Justine: Always fighting this feeling of not belonging. In every sense of the traditional woman my age, I will not belong because I am not a mother. However, I have learned that I will always belong, even when I do not feel I fit in, because that is my right and worthiness.

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

Justine: That I will always be a mother. I mother and parent my dogs. I mother and parent my clients as a therapist. I mother and parent all the children in my life. I just mother and parent in a different way, and in a lot of ways, I have a bigger audience than I would have if I’d had my own children. I also get to have different—not necessarily better, but just different—relationships with all of the children in my life because I am not their actual parent.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Justine: I’m a lot stronger and braver than I thought I was, especially in owning my story with courage.

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

Justine: I think a lot of times we are considered to be sad and bitter women, or people feel major pity for us. I think after we do our work of recovering from struggles we can actually have better and happier lives. It took major work to get to this side. My sad and bitter moments are few and far between, but I have to stay on top of my recovery.

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

Justine: I hit people with the truth and take the teaching moment. I usually say something to the effect that we tried to have our own children but can’t. I might say that we are learning to accept a childfree life, but we have a lot of children in our lives through our friends and family.

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

Justine: Continue my recovery, especially getting stronger in it. I will continue to work on my blog, Ever Upward [see below]. I hope that it can reach more and more women and continue to open up the conversation to the other side of infertility.

 

On Ever Upward, Justine shares more of her story and addresses how we can “really own” our own stories. Learn more about Justine—and about her upcoming book—here.

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