Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Procedures

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTI got cornered recently at a party by a woman who told me her husband was giving her breast implants and a tummy tuck as a thank you for having his children. My thoughts ran in this order:

  • This woman has no concept of what “oversharing” means.
  • This man is a genius! He’s given himself the gift of perky breasts while managing to convince his wife that it’s a gift for her. Well played, sir, well played!
  • Wait a minute…she gets babies and new breasts?! That is so unfair!

That last item got me thinking about some of the procedures I think I’ve earned for surviving this whole journey through childlessness-not-by-choice, such as:

  •  Under-eye bleaching – to remedy the dark circles I got from epic bouts of crying.
  • Hair transplant – forget covering the gray, I’d like to replace it with, oh, hair like Blake Lively’s.
  • Butt lift – hours of sitting around feeling sorry for myself has turned my derrière to mush. I could go to the gym, but I don’t wanna.
  • Tummy fat suctioning – emotional eating? Check. I could go to the gym, but see that last bullet.

I realize all of the above could be “fixed” with a simple ol’ fashioned attitude adjustment. I’ll get around to that, eventually, but today it’s way more fun to imagine the procedures—quick, painless, and free, of course—that will whip me back into shape.

Wanna play? What imaginary procedures do you think you’ve earned? Go crazy and have fun!

 

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

It Got Me Thinking…About Empowerment in the Media

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

SignOver the past couple of months, it feels like childfree women have been stepping out of the shadows and speaking up—quite publicly. Several friends have asked me, “What do you think of all this?”

I think the question should be, “How do you feel?” and my answer would include: supported, acknowledged, comforted, encouraged, vindicated, empowered.

I applaud these women for making their—and our—voices heard. I am encouraged that, in doing so, they negate the shame so many of us have been forced to feel for our choices and/or our circumstances. I think, as a society, we are making good progress.

Here’s a sampling of some of the articles. If you have come across other good news, please share links in the Comments.

25 Women on Childlessness

Jennifer Aniston on Pressure to Have Kids: “It’s rude, insulting, and ignorant”

I’m 40. I Don’t Want to Be a Mom. Now What?

 

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

It Got Me Thinking…About The Bright Side

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTI 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.

It Got Me Thinking…About Saying the Wrong Thing

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTA 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.

It Got Me Thinking…About Making Someone’s Day a Little Brighter

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTEvery day, Tinney Davidson sits in her front living room and waves to students as they pass on their way to school, and they wave back. It’s become “a thing.” This past Valentine’s Day, the students decided to recognize her with a special assembly.

If you haven’t already seen the story, check it out here.

There’s no mention of children or grandchildren in the video clip, so I started to check to see if she is childfree, to see if I could feature her on our site as a chero (a hero who happens to be childfree). Then I thought, It doesn’t matter! This is a wonderful story about a wonderful lady who takes care of many children, who is generous with her wave and her smile, who offers daily kindness and encouragement. Chero or hero, she is doing good on earth, and she inspires me.

Let’s all take a hint from Tinney. Wave, share a smile, and make someone’s day a little brighter. I bet this will make you feel a bit happier too.

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

It Got Me Thinking…About Defending My Decisions

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTWhen I was growing up in the 1970s and early ’80s, “choice” referred to being able to have a legal, doctor-performed abortion for any reason. You were “pro-choice” or you were “pro-life,” and in some areas of our world, there is still no common ground.

So I’m finding it interesting that I’m now hearing about another choice for women, specifically whether or not we choose to have children. Recently Erin Tatum wrote “5 Things You Shouldn’t Say to Women Who Don’t Want Children” for Everyday Feminism magazine. Read the full article here. I am encouraged that this topic is getting some mainstream attention, that insensitive people are being educated. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that it doesn’t hurt any less when comments like the ones she lists are lobbed our direction. “You’ll regret it when you’re older” is #1 on her list, and whether you’re childfree by choice, circumstance, chance, or a combination, that one line has the potential to pour salt into new wounds and reopen old wounds.

Take a look at the article and let me know what else would be on your list of things that should never be said to a childfree woman. And in case you don’t feel like reading to the end, I want to be sure you see what she says in closing:

It can be difficult to defend your decisions when faced with so much ignorance, but always remind yourself that your life is your own and you don’t need anyone else’s validation to justify how you live it.

Embrace childfree living and start exploring all the opportunities that await you.

Yes!

 

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

Guest Post: Infertility Cuts Men Up Too

By Sheridan Voysey

Childlessness isn’t just a “female thing.” It cuts a man up too.

I know. I’ve felt it—felt each stinging cut.

For ten years my wife, Merryn, and I dreamed of starting a family. Our journey in pursuit of that dream included special diets, courses of fertility-boosting supplements, healing prayer, and chiropractic sessions (yes, chiropractic sessions—you’ll try anything). The journey included numerous rounds of costly IVF treatment, and a year of assessment as potential adoptive parents followed by an agonising two-year wait for our hoped-for adoptive child.

We pursued our dream with all the energy we had. But our dream never eventuated.

Exhausted from a decade in the wilderness of infertility, we brought our dream of a baby to an end on Christmas Day, 2010, after doctors had told us, just days before, that our final IVF round had been successful. They’d been wrong.

I feel the loss of that hoped-for child today. I feel it when I see a father tickling his giggling daughter, or as I watch a family celebrate the birthday of their teenage son, or as I see a proud father walk his radiant, veiled daughter down the aisle. I hear a little voice at these moments that says, “You’ll never have that,” followed by a jolting sense of injustice. “It’s just not fair,” the voice says, “when we tried so hard to have a child.”

Yes, infertility can cut a man up.

It cuts a man up in more ways than the loss of fatherhood, though. Having written a book about Merryn’s and my experience of starting again after infertility, and sharing our story through speaking, I regularly have men confidentially email or pull me aside at conferences to share feelings they rarely share. “I can’t talk about this to my friends,” one guy told me. “I have low sperm count. I can’t father a child. That’ll hardly impress my football buddies.” For many men this threatened masculinity is the most difficult aspect of infertility.

The lost opportunity of fatherhood. Threatened masculinity. Infertility can bring a third kind of pain to a man too—a pain born of empathy.

Try watching your wife’s bottom lip quiver as the doctor delivers the results of those first fertility tests. Watch the sadness grow in her eyes—a sadness that may last for years.

Watch your wife’s face contort in pain as the needle extracting the eggs for your first IVF round goes in. Watch as she later recovers from the trauma in shocked silence.

Watch your wife wait in hope for the results of the blood test—for the phone call with the good news that you pray for. Watch time and again as her hope falls to the floor.

Watch as she waits, and waits, and waits for the phone call from the adoption agency. Any day now it could come—the call to collect our child. But the call never comes.

Watch as she sits on the bed, a circle of tissues around her and her eyes rubbed red. Watch as she cries night after night. Feel her body shake as you hold her.

Watch as she enters an identity crisis, wondering if she’ll ever become the person—the mother—she longs to be.

And watch as she struggles with the faith that once sustained her. Watch as she wonders if the God she prays to cares. If he cared, surely he’d give her a family.

Watch all this—watch and try not to be cut up. When the one you love most suffers so much, how can your soul not be ripped to shreds?

Over three years have passed since my wife and I brought our quest for a child to an end. We’re in a different place now—we’ve started life again. And our story is helping others who need their own new beginning after a broken dream.

But please know this: childlessness isn’t just a “female thing.” Infertility cuts a man up too. In more ways than you may know.

 

Sheridan Voysey is a UK-based writer, speaker, and broadcaster. His latest book, Resurrection Year: Turning Broken Dreams into New Beginnings, chronicles his and his wife’s journey to start life afresh after ten years of infertility. Follow him on Twitter @sheridanvoysey, Facebook, and get his articles and podcasts at www.sheridanvoysey.com.

Guest Post: The Spiritual Legacy of Childlessness

 By Lorraine Ash, M.A.

©Dave Bredeson | Dreamstime.com

©Dave Bredeson | Dreamstime.com

After my daughter, Victoria Helen, was stillborn at full term, I received a strange message from many people, all carrying a theme: I was incomplete.

I wrote a memoir about surviving the stillbirth. I never thought I’d write a memoir, but, of all the genres, it was the most perfect and necessary for me to process the violence that had rocked my life.

The book, Life Touches Life: A Mother’s Story of Stillbirth and Healing, gained readers and touched hearts throughout the United States and in the Middle East, Australia, Europe, China, Canada, and Mexico. Later, I wrote a sequel, Self and Soul: On Creating a Meaningful Life, about how my life, years after the loss, blossomed. What wonderful communions I enjoyed with my readers.

selfandsoul200x320But none of that stopped the insistent message that my life was fundamentally flawed.

One book reviewer told me my story was not one of courage, but of cowardice, because I didn’t get pregnant again.

“You stopped after failing,” she said.

“I couldn’t get pregnant after that,” I’d replied. “We tried, but it didn’t happen.” She remained immovable in her opinion.

Indeed my husband and I had made a decision that was right for us: we opted against fertility treatments. We’d just gone through hell and barely come back—literally, in my case. The Group B Strep that took my daughter’s life almost claimed mine. For a couple of weeks, I was touch and go. When I was suspended in the uncertain hell between life and death, we became very respectful of the powers of Mother Nature. We decided not to try forcing her to do our bidding.

Half an experience

Once, a well-meaning friend offered this thought: “You had half an experience—a pregnancy up to giving birth. Go and complete it. Adopt somebody else’s newborn baby.”

The piece de resistance, though, was the advice of a famed author who saw the Life Touches Life manuscript in its early stages.

“Stop writing this,” she said. “It’s not an appropriate topic.”

“Why ever not?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Because stillbirth is something that didn’t happen,” she said. “Write about something that did.”

She’s the narrative expert, I thought, but apparently there are stories she doesn’t understand. Something happened, all right. Trust me.

Embracing life as it is

So now two things are true of me: I do not have progeny, and I do not live out my days insisting upon, or lamenting, a destiny that did not, for whatever reason, materialize. I know my genes will not live on. Instead, I embrace a different kind of legacy. I approach eternity not by looking to some faraway future, beyond the imagination, but by embracing the moment called Now as it resonates through my whole being—body, mind, and spirit.

My life is about helping others reach those places inside themselves, too, and encouraging them to tell the full truth of their stories as they are—not as they could have been. My message is that today is the only day any of us can affect and that today, no matter the circumstances, is full and complete.

As the great Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh has said, “Life is available only in the present moment. If you abandon the present moment, you cannot live the moments of your daily life deeply.”

Tomorrow will be full and complete, too—but different. I can trace the change while still acknowledging the completeness. Becoming whole is a spiritual process. No matter what happens on the outside, it’s an inside job.

Do you live fully in the story of your life, as it has unfolded? Or are there still gifts in your experiences, however painful, that you have not yet opened?

Lorraine has generously offered a complimentary copy of her new book Self and Soul: On Creating a Meaningful Life. If you’d like to win a copy, simply leave a comment and type #gift at the end. I’ll do a random drawing on Monday, September 8th.

 

lorraineashLorraine Ash, M.A., is a New Jersey author, award-winning journalist, essayist, book editor, and writing teacher. Self and Soul: On Creating a Meaningful Life, her second book, is available in a variety of formats and online stores, all presented here. Reach Lorraine at www.LorraineAsh.com, www.facebook.com/LorraineAshAuthor , or @LorraineVAsh.

It Got Me Thinking…About Resolving Stuff

In the New Year, Kathleen shared this post about setting goals and intentions for her Plan B Life. How are you doing with your plans?

You can see the original post here.

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

ResolutionsAs I get ready to embrace a fresh start this January—as I assemble my goals, state my intentions, dream, and plan for the months ahead—I’ve been thinking about how I might resolve some of my issues stemming from my journey to childfreeness, perhaps dissolve the last remnants of grief, and solve the mystery of what a beautiful Plan B might look like for me. Here are some of the tasks on my list:

  • Reconnect with my soul by walking a labyrinth. (Find one near you here.)
  • Talk to women at every level of the childfree path and share their stories on LWB. (More on this later.)
  • Visit various networking groups (for women business owners, crafters, or writers) until I find my local tribe.
  • Take a class in something that tickles my imagination, challenges my brain, and entertains my spirit—and has nothing to do with kids. (I’m exploring healthy cooking for two, French conversation, Taiko drums, and agility training with my two four-legged “kids.”)

There’s room on my list for other ideas, so I’d love to hear what you are planning for 2014.

Happy new year!

 

Freelance writer Kathleen Guthrie Woods feels humbled and privileged to be part of Life Without Baby’s community of extraordinary women. 

To Shower or Not To Shower

I’m immensely grateful to our guest bloggers who take the time to share their stories and point-of-view. This guest post from Solo Girl touched a hot button topic. You can read the original post here.

invitation - pixabayBy Solo Girl 

I have a large extended family; we have to rent a hall on Boxing Day so we can all get together.  And now all those sisters and female cousins are newly married and reproducing.  Every time a baby shower comes up I’m invited, and I wrestle with myself over whether or not I should be able to go yet.

I’ve always been supportive and encouraging with my family, happy to celebrate in another’s happiness.  It’s been four many years since my dream died, and I get the sense that I’m expected to be “over it” by now.

Unsure and not wanting family to think I’m selfish or emotionally immature, I went to a cousin’s baby shower about a year ago.  I mentally prepared myself ahead of time.  For example, I’m terrified of flying, but I know that there is lift-off, food, a movie and a landing, and then it’s done.  I thought about how there would be food, presents and games at this shower, and then it would be done.  I thought to myself “I should be able do this, even my own Mom is expecting me to go.”

I thought the worst part would be the games, but I was wrong.  It was the chitchat.  I actually got stuck between my mother and a cousin having a conversation on the couch about how all the women in our family have long labors.  Seriously.  When I got home I wrote myself a note in black marker and stuck it on my kitchen pin board where it still remains today:  “You never have to go to another baby shower ever again.  No one will notice; no one will care.  It’s torturous.  Don’t Go.  Don’t feel guilty”.

But a year later I still get shower invites and I continue to question whether I am – or should be – ready to attend now.  And I want to know, is it ever going to be something I can attend?  And what can I tell my family that will help them understand how painful it is to attend without sounding like I’m feeling sorry for myself after all this time?  They have high expectations of me, and I really do think they mean well.  I was in a deep depression four years ago, and I think they are trying to make me normal again.  I think.

I’m glad Irina Vodar is producing a documentary on the subject of infertility that some helpful social norms will come of it.

How do you handle these situations?

Solo Girl lives on her own with her 2+ dogs in Ontario, Canada.  She focuses her time on volunteer work and fostering rescue dogs.