Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Mother’s Day: Part I

Self-Portairt: Mum and Me Climbing Mountains

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day in the UK, where my mum is. I sent her a card and on Sunday I called and wished her a Happy Mother’s Day. We chatted about the weather and her garden, and she caught me up on the news. It was a lovely Mother’s Day—for both of us. I quietly, privately, without ceremony, celebrated my own lovely mother.

Next month will see Mother’s Day here in the U.S. On that day I’ll probably stay in bed.

Thanks to the Hallmark influence, people will be going nuts for every mother, not just their own. Restaurants and stores will be celebrating motherhood and those of us who aren’t mothers will be reminded again of what we’re missing.

When I celebrate Christmas, I try to remain aware that others may come from different religious backgrounds, and I choose carefully when to say “Merry Christmas” and when to opt for the safer “Happy Holidays.” I celebrate Christmas in my way, but I don’t force my celebration on others. I’m not suggesting that “Happy Mother’s Day” be replaced with “Happy Everyone’s Day,” but I do wish that Mother’s Day would return to its origins, of children celebrating the mothers they love, in their own private way.

Talking About Infertility

Last night I was at a book signing event in San Francisco. It was really fun. I sat around with about ten women and we drank wine and talked about the craziness of infertility and how life doesn’t always give you what you want—and how sometimes that’s ok.

It was a mixed group, including women who were childfree by choice, not-by-choice, or not-exactly-by-choice, as well as a handful of mothers. Here are some of the most interesting highlights for me:

From one of the mothers: “My friend just told me that she’d been through infertility treatments. I had no idea.”

From another of the mothers: “Out of my circle had nine friends, seven had problems conceiving. I didn’t realize how common a problem this is.”

From a woman who was childfree (I think not-by-choice, but I’m not sure): This isn’t the life I’d planned for myself, but I feel like I’m just where I’m supposed to be.”

From a lovely softspoken woman, the oldest member of the group: “I can completely understand how you lost all logic and behaved the way you did, because it happened to me.”

Sometimes you feel as if you’re the only person in the world to go through infertility or to find yourself childfree when you hadn’t planned it that way, but what I’m seeing first-hand is that this touches so many people. And what I’m encouraged to learn is that those who haven’t experienced it themselves want to know more, so they can help the people they care about. I find myself heartened by this.

Where Do Your Men Go?

In my own efforts to come to terms with a life without children and talk about the issues that affect us women, I sometimes forget that there’s a whole other group of people dealing with this issue: men.

IrisD brought up the conversation recently on the forums, so I asked my husband for his thoughts. He has grown children, so doesn’t have quite the same issues I do, but our subsequent infertility definitely affected him. He agreed that men feel many of the same pressures women do to produce offspring and fit in with society’s expectations. Many men feel tremendous pressure from their families (sometimes more than women) to continue the family name. And men often feel alienated from friends and co-workers, whose weekends are spent coaching Little League and taking family camping trips.

So, where do these men go? Where do your men go? Who do they talk to? Would they benefit from a site like Life Without Baby, where they could safely go to talk out issues of infertility and childlessness with like-minded men?

I have no idea what, if anything, I would/could/should do with this information, but I am wondering if there’s a need out there and if there’s a way to fill it. I’d really appreciate your thoughts.

And here’s someone else wondering a similar thing, with some interesting comments from men.

Facebook’s Skewed Perspective

As much fun as I had profiling some of great Cheroes, it’s time to get back to regular programming, and as usual, there’s no shortage of material.

 

In the news this week was a warning from doctors about teen depression and Facebook. Listed among the “unique aspects of Facebook that make it a particularly tough social landscape to navigate” were the “in-your-face status updates and photos of happy-looking people having great times,” leaving some kids to “feel even worse if they think they don’t measure up.”

 

If you’re childless-not-by-choice and spend any time at all on Facebook, these painful feelings might sound all too familiar. There’s nothing quite like a pregnancy announcement or cute kid pictures to remind you of what you don’t have.

 

But take heart!

 

The report is very quick to point out that Facebook “provides a skewed perspective of what’s really going on.” I think that’s true. While there are some people who clearly don’t give a second (or even a first) thought to what they post on Facebook, I know that I am very aware of how many people can read my posts and the different levels of “friendship” I have out there. Because of this, I’m always careful to manage my public persona.

 

If I’m having a crappy day and life is just the pits, I stay off Facebook; I don’t post my misery to the world. On the other hand, the pictures I do post are usually of my best days, out in the sunshine, with my husband, in some exciting locale, living a dream life!

 

I think that the majority of people post this way – we put our best Facebook faces forward – so it’s easy to look at a small sliver, a snapshot of someone else’s life and see it as perfect. In other words, it’s easy to look at a portrait of a happy family or read a jubilant pregnancy announcement and perceive that someone else has EVERYTHING we want.

 

But life just isn’t as simple as that.

 

If you’re at the stage in your journey where seeing some else’s children or baby news tips you over the edge, I strongly recommend giving Facebook the elbow for a while. But that’s just my opinion. There’s been a really great discussion on the forums about how to deal with Facebook. Take a look to see how other readers dealing with it.

Dorothy Quintana – A Local Chero

Credit: C.M. GUERRERO / EL NUEVO HERALD

Thanks so much to Iris who sent me this wonderful story about an amazing local Chero in Miami.

Dorothy Quintana recently passed away at the age of 101. She had been a vocal activist in her community for over 50 years, fighting crime and drugs in her neighborhood of Wynwood, FL. In fact, three weeks before her passing she was at a local council meeting banging her cane on the table in her plea to get funding for a senior citizen transportation program. Her proposal was approved.

Dorothy was an active part of her Neighborhood Watch team, so vocal in her efforts to expose criminals that she had a full surveillance system installed in her home and always carried a gun.

Dorothy also opened her home to a steady stream of immigrants and refugees, ensuring they had a place to stay and something to eat. She had no children of her own, but those whose lives she touched said they all felt as if they were her children.

Dorothy Quintana was a passionate and much-loved Chero, and a true inspiration.

Guest Post: Terry Gross

Credit: Will Ryan

Guest Post written by Laura Nye

Recently I was excited to learn that my favorite radio show host, Terry Gross, is childfree.  She hosts the NPR interview show “Fresh Air”.  A couple of months ago, she interviewed Stephanie Coontz who wrote a book about Betty Friedan’s book “A Feminine Mystique”.  Toward the end of the interview Ms. Coontz says the Feminine Mystique has been replaced by the “Perfect Mother Mystique”.  Terry comments that many women who came of age during the first women’s movement rejected the idea of being a perfect homemaker and decided not to have children.

This made me wonder if Terry was one of us.

I looked her up on wikipedia and found that she is childfree by choice.   At the beginning of an interview with actor and author B.D. Wong, she says she and many of her friends have decided not to have children.  During an interview with John Waters, she asks if he worries about who will take care of him when he’s old because many people without children worry about this.  He advises to have young friends!

 

Thanks, Laura, for a great post! ~Lisa

Surviving

Today marks the 25th anniversary of the death of my father. 25 years have passed and I’ve grown from a teenage girl to a woman, but if I was sitting in a room with you, I still wouldn’t be able to tell you about my dad without my voice cracking.

Losing my dad was the single most significant thing that had ever happened to me. It changed the whole trajectory of my life and it colored everything I did for many, many years.

Then I found out I couldn’t have children.

In many ways that has trumped my father’s death. It has taken the title of Most Significant Event. It has changed the trajectory of my life in ways I could never have imagined, and it still colors everything that I do. But already I am able to tell you that I can’t have children, without my voice cracking. Because what losing my dad taught me is that life goes on and that I will survive. It does, and I will.

Last night I spoke about writing at the Wellness Community, a cancer support center near my home. I sat in a room with survivors, women whose Most Significant Event has given them an up-close view of their own mortality. Their diagnosis changed their lives and continues to color everything that they do. But they’re here, they’re talking (often with cracking voices), they’re telling their stories and they are surviving.

Life deals us blows; it’s the nature of the thing. But we go on and we survive. That’s what makes us human.

It Got Me Thinking…About Happily Ever After

By Kathleen Guthrie

My two oldest nieces, ages 8 and 10, recently appeared in a local theater production of Into the Woods. I saw it on Broadway 20 years ago, loved it, but had forgotten that the central story is about the Baker and his Wife and their search for items to break a curse…their curse of not being able to conceive a child. Yeah. A musical about infertility. Good times.

 

As we waited for the show to start, the gentleman sitting next to me asked which cast members I had come to see. I pointed to the girls’ names in the program, and he pointed to the name of his niece. But it wasn’t until after curtain calls, when he congratulated me on having such talented daughters, that I realized he thought I was the proud momma, not the proud aunt.

 

And this got me thinking…. Growing up, my siblings and I took turns performing on stage and in sporting events, then sitting in the audience or the bleachers to cheer for each other. My parents attended almost every event, so naturally I assumed I would one day be the mom handing out programs, running the box office, or yelling my lungs out as my kid kicked the winning goal. I was sure I would have much to be proud of. It never occurred to me that I would be denied the pleasure of hearing someone say, “She must get it from you.”

 

“I wish…,” the characters sing in the play, and I know it would be so easy to dwell on my curse. Instead, I choose to create my own version of happily ever after.

 

 

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Her articles have appeared in AAA’s Westways, GRIT, Real Simple, and 805 Living magazines. Read “How to Be the World’s Best Aunt Ever” on eHow.com.

Not So Private Anymore

I am a very private person.

 

I laughed when I told this to Pamela last week, doubly so when she told me that she was too. But it’s true. I don’t tend to wear my heart on my sleeve or share the private aspects of my life, sometimes even with my closest friends. I like to keep things to myself.

 

However, last night I attended the official launch party for my book. It was so much fun to mill around the room, talking to people and signing copies of my book, that somehow, in the thrill of the celebration, I managed to overlook the fact that all these people will now know the most intimate details of my life, my body, and my relationships.

 

But there; it’s done; it’s out there for everyone and his dog to know!

 

They say that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and I think that’s true. Infertility wasn’t something I ever wanted to deal with and in many ways I didn’t deal with it when it was happening to me. I didn’t confide much in friends or seek help elsewhere. I just kept it private. But the experience made me stronger and made me want to talk about it. It made me want to share the experience with other people so that they can better understand what it’s like. It’s not always comfortable, but I know it’s the the right thing to do.

 

I’m not such a private person anymore, and I’m okay with that.

 

 

It’s a Party!

And you’re invited!

I realize that many of you are a good 24 hours travel away from me here in California, but, if you happen to be in the Los Angeles area this Tuesday, February 22nd, I’m throwing a party and I’d love to meet you in person.

It’s a launch party for my book, and there’ll be food, wine, and music. Should be a lot of fun. Here are the deets:

Book Launch Party

At: Pages: A Bookstore

904 Manhattan Avenue

Manhattan Beach, CA

 

Tuesday, February 22

6-8pm