Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Family Support

I talked to some of my family back in the UK this weekend, as I often do, and it struck me after I’d hung up how lucky I am to have the family I have.

I have two older brothers, both of whom have kids­­–my fabulous nieces and nephews. My mum is a good grandma, but I know she would have enjoyed playing the grandma role to the children of her only daughter.

I think there’s a bond that happens between a mother and daughter when the elder woman gets to pass along her knowledge and experience.  My mum didn’t get to do that, and it saddens me, even though I think she’s ok with the situation. My mother is nothing, if not pragmatic about the things life hands out.

I’m lucky because I’ve never felt pressure from my family with regards to children. I’ve heard the occasional insensitive comment, but I know those weren’t meant to hurt me, and probably said because of an uncomfortable situation where there really wasn’t anything better that could have been said.

But I know that other people aren’t so lucky, and that their families don’t understand at all why they don’t just keep trying to have a baby, why they can’t just put the failed attempts and losses behind them and try again.  It’s hard to explain to someone that you have to stop trying for the sake of your own sanity and that making the decision doesn’t lessen the desire for children.

So, I’m curious to hear how your families have handled your situation. Have they been supportive? Do they understand what you’ve been through and the decisions you’ve made? Or has your not having children caused a fissure in your family?  And how have you handled that? Let me know.

It Got Me Thinking…About Girl Scout Cookies

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

It’s Girl Scout Cookie Season, when aunts and uncles around the world break out their checkbooks and overspend on “treats” that taste like cardboard.

I am more than happy to support the Girl Scouts, an organization that broadened the horizons of my childhood and that I think has done a great job of growing with the times. (Girls now work for badges that encourage them to learn about stress management and career options, leaps forward from the housewifery badges I earned back in the day.) But, oy, between my husband and me, we have seven nieces of Girl Scouting age, plus the daughters of friends and colleagues, plus those sweet little things who hang out in front of the grocery store. At $4 a box, for cookies I don’t even eat (they go straight to the break room at my husband’s office), that adds up!

So I have to give a shout out to my brilliant sister-in-law who came up with a new plan this year. Instead of getting sales pitches from each of the four girls in her family, they’re on a rotation plan. This year the oldest niece is hitting us up; next year, niece #3 gets her shot at sweet-talking us into contributing, and so on. I love it! I’ve already placed my order and mailed my check.

As always, I cheerfully support the fund-raising efforts of the kids in our lives, from the walk-a-thons to the wrapping paper drives to the raffles. And I am especially grateful that the parents in our family are opening their eyes and not taking undue advantage of us. Wouldn’t it be nice if all parents could be more sensitive to their childfree friends and family members when asking us to contribute to the rearing of their children?

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’ll be baking real shortbread cookies this weekend.

Editor’s Note: Did you know that the founder of the Girl Scouts never had children of her own? More about her tomorrow. 

The Power of Community

I just got back from the San Francisco Writer’s Conference (hence the silence here for the past few days.) It proved to be an enlightening experience in so many ways, as well as in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

I went with the intention of pitching an idea for a new book and generating interest. That happened, but not in the way I’d expected. I had hoped to spark interest with agents and was looking for a champion to take on the book. I got a lukewarm response, at best. However, I found my spark and excitement elsewhere…in potential readers, which turned out to be far for exciting and valuable.

I spent much of the weekend telling strangers that I am childfree-not-by-choice, which is a little odd in of itself, but I ended up meeting and talking to an incredible community of women, some mothers, and many not, but most of whom understood me, my situation, and my message.

Why am I telling you this? Because the experience solidified something that I already knew. In the broad scope of our society, and particularly in the media and commerce, those of us who don’t have children are hugely misunderstood. People make assumptions about our reasons and motivations, not to mention our personalities. And even though 1-in-5 women will not become mothers, we are still a marginalized and overlooked corner of the market.

However, my one-on-one interactions with other women gave me encouragement. Almost every woman I talked too was in some way supportive. I spoke to many women who were also childfree and they all had different reasons and different paths. But I also talked to mothers (including a mother of four and a mother of six) who were just as supportive of my project, and of me.

Ultimately, I left the conference encouraged, not necessarily by the future of the publishing industry, but by the power of community and the wonderful things that can happen when women stand together, no matter the paths that brought them together.

It Got Me Thinking…About Gifts

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s a made-up holiday fueled by jewelers, florists, candy makers, and advertisers who make us feel we need to overspend, and then make us feel like losers if what we receive doesn’t live up to our expectations. Rubbish! If someone loves me, I see it in his eyes, I feel it in his touch, I experience it in how he treats me every day.

However. Years and years ago, when I was very immature (i.e., I thought I had everything figured out and wasn’t shy about sharing my opinions), I announced my boycott of the holiday to the sweet man I was dating. The look on his face…he was crushed. I came to discover he had made plans for a lovely yet simple evening and had selected a couple of very thoughtful gifts. I felt like such a turd! Because when I thought about it, I knew how much I loved giving gifts to the people I loved, how much I enjoyed surprising them, delighting them, and making them feel special. Shame on me for taking that away from him.

Since then, I’ve learned to graciously accept the gifts I receive, whatever their origin, motivation, or price tag. My dad still sends me a card on this day, and I keep them among my treasures. I consider myself a rich woman indeed when I receive a sheet of construction paper decorated with abstract images in crayon (“That’s you and Jake on the playground,” my sister explains. Of course!). I might get a call from a far-flung friend and spend 10 precious minutes catching up with her. Looking at the bigger picture, every day I give thanks for the gifts of good health, a job that I love, and a roof over my head.

Today is a tough day for many people. It’s so easy to fall into self-pity, to catalogue what we lack instead of counting our blessings. So today I invite you to join me in acknowledging and accepting our gifts, whatever form they may take. Then, think about what you can give of yourself to make this day lovelier for someone else.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Tonight she’ll be surprising the love of her life with his favorite treat, a home-baked cherry pie.

With Eyes of Faith…Not Easily Offended

By Dorothy Williams

 

“Love is patient, love is kind…

it is not quick-tempered,

it does not brood over injury…”

 

1 Corinthians 13:4-5

Can you tell when someone is bragging about their kids versus just sharing joy and being amazed by life? I thought I could, until I visited with an old friend I had not seen in twenty years.

Our luncheon started innocently enough as we sipped drinks while waiting for a table. We caught up on what happened after leaving school and where we landed in our careers. When we spoke of children, I revealed how keenly I felt the loss of my dream to have a family. My friend seemed to understand and, after sharing her joy over having two children, turned the conversation to her husband and the dog.

Then we reached our table. And then her merlot kicked in.

As my companion launched into a monologue about her son­ – that would last our entire meal – waves of shock and panic washed over me. I was about to learn just how smart Junior is, the great Ivy League school he got into, their wonderful times together when she watched him play sports, the awards he won, the private jokes they shared – well, you can imagine the rest.

What part of my struggle did she not get?  I considered my choices. I could indulge in a range of emotions popping like hot kernels in my consciousness, or I could load them onto tiny boats in a cosmic river, and watch them slip away. I chose that, and relaxed into a Christian form of meditation, called Centering Prayer. With a deep, cleansing breath, I secretly called on the Lord for what I needed and then…just…let…go…to focus on a prayer word.

At some point, the momzilla took a breath and said, “I am so sorry to keep talking about my son like this, but I miss him so terribly since he left for school!”

Ah, there it was.  My long-lost friend was not intentionally trying to offend me, but instead grieving the loss of her best friend. When he left for the east coast, a huge void opened up in her life. Talking about him – remembering the good times – made it seem smaller.  It also explained why we were reconnecting after twenty years. If I had allowed my indignation to rise up, our reunion would not have been the gift God intended.

Is it getting easier for you to tell if a gabby friend is bragging or experiencing something else? What helps you get through tense situations like this?

Dorothy Williams lives near Chicago.  She met with her old friend for a second lunch and they had such a good time that they now plan to meet monthly for activities like walking and kayaking.

Whiny Wednesday

Mr. Fab and I went away for the weekend. It was practically perfect in every way. We got some rest, went hiking, ate too much, and generally enjoyed the small town and the outdoors.

But I just realized that we didn’t see any kids.

Now that I’m really wracking my brains I remember there was a couple with two toddlers in a burger joint and a woman with two kids at the lighthouse, but other than that it was a very adult weekend.

You’d think this wouldn’t be Whiny Wednesday material, and I suppose it’s not, but I’m having one of those Twilight Zone/Stepford moments where it feels as if there’s something very wrong in paradise.

Regardless, don’t let me get in the way of an otherwise perfect Whiny Wednesday. If you’ve got something on your chest, feel free to get it off here.

 

It Got Me Thinking…About Meeting You, Part 2

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

It’s coming this weekend—the first-ever LWB Meet-Up on Saturday, February 11!

Members of the San Francisco Group will be meeting for a casual lunch, and I hope you’ve taken this opportunity to join or start a regional LWB group (see “Groups” in the left column of the Main page of the Life Without Baby site) and scheduled your own get-together. If this isn’t practical for you, then I hope you’ve called up a childfree friend and asked her out to lunch, just for fun.

I mentioned in an earlier post that it’s my intention to focus on the positive at our lunch. We have the LWB site to share our sadness and whine about our circumstances. On February 11, I hope we can simply be a gathering of women (who happen to be childfree) who want to get to know each other better (and who would enjoy talking about any topic other than their childfree-ness).

So that got me thinking about conversation starters. If you feel stuck, consider going around the table and asking/answering these questions:

What’s the best movie you’ve seen lately?

What book are you currently reading?

Any trips planned this year?

Did your education prepare you for your current job/career path?

Who was/is your mentor? What was her/his best advice to you?

If I were to prepare a special meal for you, what would be on the menu?

Who do you think is the greatest musician/composer/songwriter of our time?

Have fun!

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She recently had a stimulating discussion about the art of hand-written thank you notes (and why it’s still important).

Advice for the Infertile

A woman I know told me recently that she’s been going through fertility treatments and it’s not been going well. She didn’t ask for advice, but I felt I needed to say something encouraging. I mean, I’ve been there, I understand better than most what she’s going through and how she might be feeling. And I knew that she’d confided in me because she wanted to know she wasn’t alone.

But I didn’t know what to say to her.

Oh, I had a whole list of things I knew not to say, like: “You can always adopt,” or “If it’s meant to be it will happen,” so I wasn’t going near any of those. But I couldn’t come up with anything that sounded helpful.

I wanted to say something positive, to keep her spirits up and give her encouragement. I thought about, “Don’t give up hope,” or something similar. But I also know from experience that hope can turn negative when you keep clinging to it. Sometimes, “Don’t give up hope,” is the last thing you want to hear.

So, I considered, “Stay strong.” It’s general, but positive right? But who am I to tell her to keep a stiff upper lip, when I know the value of letting go of those feelings of frustration and just letting it all out.

In the end I told her that if she ever needed an ear, mine would be available. That was the best I could offer, and I hope it’s enough.

What would you have said? How do you strike a balance between what you know from experience and projecting your situation onto someone else? How do you help someone who’s dealing with infertility?

Guest Blogger: Identity Theft

By Maybe Lady Liz

There’s a distressing identity theft trend going on in the world of young parents on Facebook. Their accounts are being hacked into and entirely taken over by their babies! People who once used to post about interesting things going on in the world (or, at the very least, some gritty details of last night’s rendezvous) have been reduced to status updates on teething, defecation patterns and (drumroll please…) the miracle of rolling over! I think my friend Jen said it best while scrolling through her list of Friends and seeing mostly toothless, drooling smiles – “When did I become friends with so many babies?”

So, to my dear Facebook friends:

I get that the baby is the joy of your life. As it should be! But you had a life before that kid, and it was full of friends – like me – who still want to know what you’re up to, who you’ve become, whether you think it’s Tebow-time. Facebook is about sharing your life with friends and family. And of course, most of that is going to be centered around your baby now. But don’t ever forget that you were a person before you were a parent, and there are people out there who miss that person. So even if it’s something as lame as your feelings on the latest Kardashian divorce, I want to hear it. We all do. (Well, sort of).

And just a word of warning: If your posts start to become a photo of the baby accompanied by first-person narration from the baby’s point of view (e.g., “I am SO excited Aunt Cassie is taking me to the park today!”), we reserve the right to un-Friend you. It’s for your own good.

Maybe Lady Liz is blogging her way through the decision of whether to create her own Cheerio-encrusted ankle-biters, or remain Childfree. You can follow her through the ups and downs at http://www.MaybeBabyMaybeNot.com.

Friends

Yesterday I had lunch with two friends, Kathleen and Pamela.

Kathleen writes the fabulous “It Got Me Thinking…” column here on LWB. We first met five or six years ago in a writing class. Back then, both of us planned to become mothers someday, although looking back, it’s now apparent that we were both on the path to being permanently childfree, even then. We connected because we appreciated one another’s writing, and over the years, we found other things in common and became better friends. It just so happens that neither of us got our dream of motherhood, and our childlessness has become another bond that ties us to one another.

My friendship with Pamela, on the other hand, developed on a completely different trajectory. Our paths might never have crossed had I not found myself childless-not-by-choice. Although we live in the same state, we lived 400 miles apart with little in our lives to ever bring us together. But Pamela is the author of Silent Sorority, and I got to know her through her blog. Eventually, we met in person last year, and we soon discovered that our childlessness was only one of many things we have in common, and in fact, one of the least interesting. Our childlessness brought us together, but it won’t be what sustains our friendship. More likely, it will be wine, food, and travel.

It’s funny how life twists and turns, how connections are made and paths laid out. We meet people and we lose people. Some friends stick, some fall to the wayside. Friends change and move in different directions, and new friends come along and fill the void. Our plans change and our lives spin in directions we could never have foreseen. And yet, when the dust settles and we regain our balance, we often see that we are walking the path we were always meant to be on after all. And it’s encouraging to look around and discover that we have friends walking beside us.

In two weeks time, I’ll get the chance to meet some more wonderful women, when the San Francisco Group does lunch. I’m looking forward to finding things in common, and maybe making new friends.