Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: Taking Liberties

Recently, my friend calling me, fuming.

She’d been “volunteered” to co-host a baby shower for a woman she knows. Note that I didn’t say a “for a friend.” This woman is the wife of her partner’s colleague. Their relationship is such that she’s only heard about the pregnancy through the grapevine, and not even from the woman herself.

The kicker? The other two “volunteer” co-hosts are both women who don’t have children.

Maybe my friend should be flattered that her organizational skills are so valued, but she doesn’t feel that way. She feels it’s assumed she has time to put together a party because she doesn’t have kids (even though she’s a busy business owner.)

I’m wondering if that person is also thinking that these married, childless women are going to be paid back some time soon with showers of their own. I can’t speak for the other two women, but that’s not the case with my friend, and organizing a celebration for someone else’s baby is not something she’s currently glad to do.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. You can whine on behalf of a put-upon friend if you’d like, or feel free to whine for yourself.

It Got Me Thinking…About Set-ups

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I had more than my share of bad dates during my single years, but one stands out from the crowd of mis-matches: He huffed ’n’ puffed during the flat, 10-minute walk to dinner (I was training for a half marathon), he complained about the food at the restaurant I’d recommended (Who doesn’t like Italian?), and he griped that all the women in California were snobby b*tches (Um, hello?).

As soon as I got home, I called my friend and asked why she’d set us up. “You’re both single,” she said.

After a couple of deep breaths, I gently suggested that she raise her standards. Perhaps in the future she should find out if I had anything in common with the random, eligible bachelor of her choosing before handing out my phone number.

Sadly, I was reminded of this during a recent ladies’ lunch. I was seated next to a woman I hadn’t met before and launched into standard getting-to-know-you questions—job, hometown, connection to the hostess. She was nice enough, but it was soon clear we had little in common…except we were both childfree, the only childfree women at the table.

I looked up from my seat as the other women laughed over toddler antics, compared poopy diaper horror stories, discussed the pros/cons of various baby carriers, and exchanged knowing glances about the challenges of sleepless nights with newborns. In all fairness to the host, I don’t believe she placed us childfree women together on purpose; it was more that the mothers were drawn to each other. But that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

I certainly understand the need for mothers, especially new mothers, to get out and socialize and to be able to get information and support in their new roles. Had I known what I was walking into, though, maybe I would have bowed out of the lunch. Maybe I could have risen above it and made another stab at finding common ground with my seat mate, but I felt so downtrodden, so invisible, that I just couldn’t muster the courage to make the extra effort. I also didn’t want to talk about being childfree; I’m mostly over it.

What I had looked forward to that day was getting out and talking with women about all sorts of issues, things we could all relate to. Maybe moving forward I should only accept invitations to after-work drinks. I’m thinking not a lot of new mommies will make it out for that, and I’ll be in more amiable company.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She still looks for the good in people.

Out With the Old

I write a regular blog called The Plan B Life for PsychologyToday.com. Although the theme of the blog dealing with life when Plan A doesn’t work out, I’ve always got my own Plan A Life – the one that included children – in my mind when I write.

This week’s post was Out With the Old, about the importance of rituals in marking the end of Plan A and preparing to embark on Plan B. I know I’ve talked about this topic before on this blog, but for me, it was the key to starting along the path to coming to terms with a life without children.

If you’re struggling to get forward motion right now, a little symbolic ritual can go a long way. First, you need to acknowledge what it is you need to let go. It could be as big as the dream of motherhood, or it could be bitterness towards a family member or coworker who you feel flaunts her fertility, or it could be facing a fear and taking the next step forward.

Whatever your sticking point, acknowledge it first, then decide to let it go. Find a ritual or something symbolic that means something to you, and try it. It might be a prayer, or lighting a candle, or some kind of cleansing ceremony. Whatever you choose, you’ll be amazed at how freeing and how positive a simple ritual can be.

If you try this, (or if you’ve done something like this in the past) please report in on how it went.

Your Next 15,000 Days

I was recently introduced to Klara, a blogger in Slovenia, and her new blog The Next 15,000 Days. Her title caught my attention immediately, and I had to know what it meant. Here’s what she writes about her choice of title:

“Just a few days before Christmas we will celebrate 3,000 days since our wedding day. Our first 3,000 days were mainly sad. Of course, there were also lots of great things. The greatest was that I realized I married the love of my life; all the pain brought us even closer together. If we are lucky, another 15,000 days are waiting for us. So, we decided to start living a new, happy life. We lost, already, enough days being sad. We just don’t want to lose another day.”

I love this attitude. It’s the same notion Mr. Fab and I had when we decided to start figuring out how to be a family of two. We drew a line in the sand and said, “This is where we start living our lives again. But it’s not always easy to do.

You can’t just decide to not be sad anymore. Sadness and grief are much more complicated and sneaky than that. They tend to hide in unexpected places and leap out on you when you think you’re safe. Family gatherings, pregnancy announcements, and closets where you kept baby clothes you planned to use are all places to be on the look out for a grief ambush.

But you can decide, as Klara says, to “start living a new happy life.” It takes work, and it might not always go as planned, but deciding is half the battle.

So, how do you plan to live your next 15,000 days?

It Got Me Thinking…About Meeting You

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Mark your calendars for Saturday, February 11, 2012—the first-ever LWB Meet-Up!

We’ve bandied this about for a while and now it’s going to happen! The San Francisco Group members (look under “Groups” on the Main page of the LifeWithoutBaby site) are going to meet in San Francisco for a casual lunch, a get-to-know-you gathering. If you live in Northern California, sign on with our group and come join us.

This isn’t just for gals in my neighborhood. If you haven’t already, join one of the other regional groups and suggest a meeting place. If your area isn’t represented, start a group (under the Groups column, there’s a place to “+ Add a Group”). If none of this is practical for you, then call or e-mail a childfree friend and ask her out for lunch. You don’t have to tell her what inspired the invitation; think of it as a worthy excuse to catch up with a good friend. (And if it’s just you, then take yourself out for a really nice lunch and we’ll be with you in spirit!)

In my mind, this isn’t a time to get together to bitch about being childless (feel free to do that on tomorrow’s Whiny Wednesday) or to pull out our hankies and share our sorrowful tales (feel free to do that any and every day on LWB, a safe place where you can pour your heart out to a compassionate and sympathetic community). Let’s focus on the positive, break bread together, and simply enjoy being in the company of other great women…who happen to be childfree…just like me.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She loves discussing books and movies, and gathering suggestions for “must-sees” for her upcoming trip to France.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. So how was it?

I had a very quiet Christmas with Mr. Fab and my mum. We went for a walk, cooked dinner, opened gifts, and played some games. Oh, and ate entirely too much chocolate.

Mr. Fab has read one too many Dickens novels and has been requesting a Christmas goose for the past decade, so this year I did it, and it was delicious.

I spent Christmas Eve preparing side dishes, sauces, and dessert. It was a beautiful sunny day, my mum was out in the garden reading, Mr. Fab was running last-minute errands, and I had a couple of hours alone with my thoughts (and my goose) in the kitchen.

I was thinking about how much I enjoy my quiet Christmas, even though it’s vastly different from the noisy family celebration I had once envisioned for us. But I have to admit that I enjoy the freedom of the holidays without children.

But I was also struck with a bout of melancholy for the things I’ll never get to do. It’s a shame I’ll never get to enjoy smuggling a new bicycle into the house after dark, wrapping gifts in the wee hours after the recipients have gone to bed, and carrying on the myth of Santa when the kids are old enough to doubt, but not quite prepared to risk being wrong.

It was a short bout of melancholy that passed as I sprawled in front of my fireplace, stuffed with roast goose and good wine, and tried to decide whether to read for a while, or just give myself over to the goose and take a nap.

Everything in life is a compromise, and even as you lose something, you gain something else in its place. For me, the gain is freedom and flexibility, and the bliss of a quiet, lazy Christmas afternoon.

It Got Me Thinking…About Thoughtful Holiday Greetings

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Last week, LWBer Dorothy Williams wrote about holiday cards in her guest spot, With Eyes of Faith…Birthday Jesus. She writes about why she chooses to send a card that celebrates the birth of Jesus versus “one of those cards” that trumpets family and children and seems to stab us right in the heart with our childfreeness.

It got me thinking about the worst holiday greeting I ever received. I was recently single again and in the throes of an if-I’m-going-to-be-a-mother-I-need-to-have-a-child-on-my-own-NOW panic attack. Friends’ cheery letters celebrated new homes, new babies, and full lives, and while I so wanted to be happy for them, each new photo was a painful reminder of all that I lacked and so desperately wanted.

In the pile of unopened mail one afternoon was a delivery from a long-time friend. In an effort to save time, she had mass produced address labels and affixed them to the envelopes. Smart. Mine was addressed to “The Guthrie Family,” although my friend had crossed out “The” and “Family” and written “Kathy” above. Not so smart. The insensitivity took my breath away.

I’ve talked to friends who have lost spouses to death or divorce, and they share a similar hurt when cards are inappropriately addressed. I want to shout “THINK, PEOPLE!” I know we’re all busy, I know this season is crazy, I know we are each shouldering our burdens, but please, take an extra minute, waste that extra stamp, and practice sending goodwill to all.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. When she can plan ahead, she prefers to send Thanksgiving cards.

Staying Strong

Recently, my resolve has been tested. A new baby in the family, the use of my baby’s name, and a firm reminder that my family is, and will remain, very different from the fantasy family I’d created in my head. But, here’s what I’ve learned about myself in the past couple of weeks:

I am one tough, resilient lady. Life can throw all kinds of crap at me and I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. Yes, the suit of armor that I’ve built for myself has its weak spots. Yes, there are holes in my life that I feel keenly from time to time, and my infertility is always going to be a tender scar. But, I am strong and I will survive. I may not have the life I’d planned, but my life is good and rich in ways I’d never imagined.

It’s these thoughts that I will stay focused on as we head into the holidays and onwards into a brand new year.

Getting Through the Holidays

I spotted this article in a couple of places this week, but here’s the Huffington Post’s version. It’s about coping with the holidays when you’re going through infertility, but I think that many of the points apply to any of us who are facing the holidays without children.

Here’s some of what the authors have to say:

  • Decide which events you’ll attend and know you don’t have to go to everything you’re invited to.
  • Think about how you’ll handle being around children, new babies, and pregnant relatives. Here’s a post about that.
  • Decide how you’ll handle the prying questions about why you don’t have kids yet. You know they’re going to come, so be prepared. Here are some ideas on that.
  • Start a new family tradition of your own (I highly recommend this one.) Here are some fun ideas on that front.

The point is, the holidays are supposed to be fun for everyone, including you! So don’t let some Grinch (even an unwitting Grinch) ruin it for you.

If you have other ideas for surviving the holidays, please post them here. We could all use a little help at this time of year.

It Got Me Thinking…About Holiday Slights

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

“Come One, Come All!” trumpets the headline.

I’m skimming the special calendar section of our local paper and find myself drawn into a description of a holiday spectacular and crafts fair, featuring actors as classic Dickens characters and carolers strolling in Victorian dress as they sing in the season. I am so there!

But then I read the small print: “Revelers (that’s me!), particularly families (uh, wait), are invited to enjoy the festivities.” It’s possible I’m being over-sensitive, but I am so sick and tired of slights like this, and it seems to strike an especially painful chord with me as we approach the holiday season. The “Family Sing-Along” at church. The “Family Pot-Luck” intended to bring coworkers closer together. The “Family Movie Night,” where multiple generations come together to enjoy a touching holiday-themed film. I love love love all of these fun activities, and will participate even though I’m not a 5-year-old, even though I am not part of a “family.” It’s sad to me, though, that my revelry is diminished by the sting of not feeling legitimately part of the event, all because of a marketing choice.

While I don’t want to get PC (politically correct) to the point of ridiculousness, I’d like to suggest to the world that there are other ways to welcome everyone without making single and/or childfree people feel…well…unwelcome. “Fun for all ages!” “Something for everyone!” The marketers for the fair had me at “Come One, Come All!” I wish they’d left it at that.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. “Mele Kalikimaka” might be her favorite Christmas carol.