Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Hitting a Few Balls

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I have a new passion in life: golf! A gift card to a local driving range was among last year’s Christmas presents, and I’ve gone out and hit a few buckets worth in recent weeks. Here are a few things I love about my new sport:

  • You don’t have to be particularly fit or strong.
  • You don’t have to be young or fast.
  • You don’t have to be totally coordinated.
  • You don’t see a lot of babies and kids hanging around.
  • PLUS—bonus for our single sisters—it’s mostly men out there!

Turns out I’m not the only childfree woman who has embraced golf. A quick search online reveals that some of the greatest golfers in history are cheros (heros who happen to be childfree)!

Babe Didrickson Zaharias—ESPN named her the 10th Greatest North American Athlete of the 20th Century. Read her full bio here, which includes a mention about how authorities wouldn’t allow her and her husband to adopt a baby. (The FAQs page on her organization’s Website states “They tried to adopt a baby, but the rules were too strict during that time period.”)

Kathy Whitworth—She won an astonishing 88 Ladies Professional Golf Association (LPGA) Tour tournaments during her career, which is more wins than anyone else in the LPGA or the PGA. View her stats here.

Mickey Wright—Wright was inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame in 1964. During that period, she won at least one LPGA title in 14 straight seasons, a feat made more impressive by the fact that she retired at 34. Read a recent article about her here.

Even though I have no illusions about being competitive (apparently I’m what’s known on the course as a “duffer,” someone who hits a lot of bad shots), I’m enjoying trying something new—and I’m gaining a new appreciation for the achievements of our cheros. FORE!

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 Death of a Childfree Friend

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Before I even get into this post, I need to alter my title. It should read “The Death of a Friend (Who Happened to be Childfree).” Okay, that’s better.

Earlier this year, a friend of 20-plus years lost her battle with cancer. Mercifully, her fight wasn’t prolonged and the end came quickly and with little pain and suffering. My grief, on the other hand, was debilitating. I slept at odd hours, I burst into tears at the grocery store (spotted something I knew she liked, realized she’d never enjoy it again), I read something that made me think of her, went to call her, and remembered all over again that she’s gone.

As I told friends who are moms about her passing, what surprised me the most was how often the first question was “Did she have kids?”, to which I answered “No,” to which the response was “That’s good.” This exchange always left me feeling yucky; did this mean that her death and my loss had less of an impact because she wasn’t a mom? I get that it’s good that young children were not left motherless, but I can’t quite agree that it’s good she never had any, yet I know she didn’t feel that her life was lacking in any way. She had an extraordinary life—full of travels and adventures and loving friends—one that wouldn’t have been possible if she’d filled her days with parenting duties.

I wallowed in my grief, and I wallowed in the anticipation of what I perceived will be my own inevitably lonely passing. But before I could start hating all reproducers for their insensitivity, I got a call from another long-time friend, a stay-at-home mom. Even though she had only met the other woman a few times, she cried with me over my loss. She listened to my memories, she shared a few insights, and before long she had me laughing so hard that I was crying again.

In earlier posts I’ve complained about the comments made after tragedies in which children are lost, such as “Only a parent can understand.” I’ve argued that compassion isn’t exclusive to people who happen to be parents. So this experience was my lesson in reverse. In my vulnerable state, I so easily could have locked myself away with my childfree friends. Many friends offered their condolences, yet the one person who really understood, who was able to reach my heart and truly comfort me, is firmly established in the mommy club. Compassion isn’t exclusive to anyone, it’s a human trait. And aren’t we lucky that, when we really need it, it comes to us from many different sources.

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

 

BFF Until Baby

People at beach drinking having a party

 

By Maybe Lady Liz

My college roommate and best friend cried her eyes out the day I told her I was moving to California after graduation, more than 2,000 miles from her final destination of Chicago. We’ve done a relatively impressive job of keeping in touch over the last 8 years, and I think our bond deepened even more when we discovered we were the only people we knew who weren’t sure we wanted to have a baby. The topic dominated our phone conversations for years until I got the call that many of you probably remember receiving from your own best friend as they delivered those two fateful words: I’m pregnant.

Everything changed, of course, but after blogging on these sorts of topics for over a year now, it certainly wasn’t unexpected. She did an admirable job of giving me the non-sugar-coated truth about her unplanned life as a mom and carrying on conversations that weren’t interrupted every 10 seconds with baby cooing. I had high hopes that she’d be one of those parents who remembered and appreciated Life Before Baby, so I waited a respectable six months and planned a trip to meet the latest member of the fam in her new house in Nashville.

This was not an easy affair. Drama at work and sky-high plane tickets ($624 each!) made actually pressing the purchase button on Expedia a real knuckle-biting moment. But I was committed to making sure that my cheapness and laziness wouldn’t be responsible for our friendship not persevering through major life changes and cross-country moves.

Despite having discussed the trip for months ahead of time, my friend’s entire response to the forwarded itinerary was: “Yay! But you do understand that this isn’t going to be like old times, right?” Oh, you mean we’re not going to bong Bud Lights between breastfeeding sessions and subsist entirely on Taco Bell cheesy fiesta potatoes? What have I done?! Of course I knew it wasn’t going to be the same, nor did I want it to be. I’d have some serious concerns about her parental fitness if it was. But this mantra persisted throughout every conversation and email leading up to the trip (“You know we’re not going to be out till all hours, right?” “You know we’re not going to be livin’ it up like before, right?”). Yes, yes! I’ve received the memo, in triplicate!

I’m not sure what bothered me more: the fact that she thought I truly couldn’t process what a monumental life change she’d made and that it might affect our fun levels, or the fact that she didn’t even seem to want me to come or believe that we could now have fun in a different way. I would have been just as content to stay in and play board games while the baby slept, but instead we went out to dinner where my friend propped her cell phone up and touched the screen literally every 5 seconds to see if the sitter was calling until her husband told her she was being rude and we shut down the whole night.

And you know what? That’s okay, I get it – she was nervous leaving the baby with a sitter. I don’t think I would have even blinked about it if she hadn’t spent the month leading up to the trip promising me how much fun we weren’t going to have. I know she was just trying to temper expectations and make sure I wasn’t disappointed. Nobody likes to over-promise and under-deliver. But a little bit of faith in our friendship, a little bit of hope that that we could still have a great time under any conditions, would have left me with a better taste in my mouth, no matter what the outcome. Was that too much to ask?

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 MaybeBabyMaybeNot.com.

It Got Me Thinking…About South Korea’s Childfree Leader

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

With all the scary reports coming out of North Korea, I all but missed the news that South Korea elected its first female president, Park Geun-hye. This is a huge world event! History-making, ground-breaking, even thrilling, and I’m encouraged that this can happen in a country that ranks #108 in the World Economic Forum’s gender-gap rankings. All politics aside, I am excited to see women making progress on the international leadership stage.

I am also inspired by her personal story: Both her mother, Yuk Young-soo, and her father, former president Park Chung-hee, were assassinated. The current Park has devoted her life to serving her country. (Read more about Park and her historic win here.)

She’s able to do this, she stated in a press conference, because “I have no family to take care of and no children to pass wealth to.” Yup, she’s a chero (a hero who happens to be childfree)! “You, the people,” she continued, “are my family and your happiness is the reason that I stay in politics.”

Will she be a successful president? Time will tell. For now, I am somewhat reassured knowing she will face some daunting challenges—challenges that could affect all of us—without the “usual” distractions.

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

Infertility’s Golden Little Secret

andrew-head-22-2By The One Hand Man 

This may turn out to be a contentious post, and I know it doesn’t apply to everyone, but I have said before that from adversity, comes strength.

I mentioned to a friend the other day about infertility and IVF stripping you down to your very core. It is an energy sapping process, and has a bearing on your soul, that nothing can prepare you for.

So how do we negotiate our way through the mire that is IVF, and come out the other side stronger than before?

Ask your partner

My wife and I have a very open and communicative relationship – this was the bridge stone in not only maintaining our sanity, but improving ourselves as well, during the IVF process.

There were times when my heart wept for my wife, and my brain mustered nothing in terms of words of consolation, but I knew that what she was going through was a dark period in her life, and my feelings, at times, had to be put to one side.

However, I knew it would be remiss of me to ignore my feelings completely, and indeed my wife did an excellent job of allowing me to feel without the pressure of having to talk.

Her subtle and gentle encouragement was enough for me to talk, as and when I needed to, and not just when she needed to. Even more remarkable given that her body was ravaged by hormones.

Rebuild

IVF and infertility knocked us sideways, and only on reflection have we realised how emotionally, and psychologically draining it was.

Having said that, we stated at the outset, that we needed to stick together, to form an alliance against infertility, if we were going to see the other side – and we managed just that.

IVF broke us down, but time, and commitment to each other, helped with the rebuild. What I didn’t expect though, is that what we built back up was stronger than before.

From the beginning our marriage had to be protected to combat the test we were putting it through. Only in this way would we emotionally be in a place to provide a good enough parenthood to a future child. Infertility and IVF had been shared between my wife and me, and we stood firm. That experience added layers to our relationship that allowed us to stand even firmer, with our heads high.

Infertility beat us, but we were not beaten. Like I said… from adversity comes strength.

The One Hand Man: Married in 07, sperm test in 08, IVF in 09, another sperm test in 10, adoption started in 11 – still going through the adoption process. Not had any recent sperm tests. Read more at: www.theonehandman.co.uk

It Got Me Thinking…About Nurturers

Girl ThinkingNote: This post originally ran on May 8, 2012 

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I can bitch with the best about how much I loathe the holiday that’s coming up this Sunday. I’ve spent past years avoiding church, restaurants, flower shops, TV ads, and, well, people who brightly wished me “HAPPY (you-know-who’s) DAY!” It was easier to hibernate than face painful reminders of what I am not.

But this year is different. This year I am embracing the second Sunday in May because a wise friend has transformed it for me. This year I am pulling out all the stops and celebrating because I am…drumroll, please…a Nurturer!

Here’s the message my friend sent out last May, and it is my message to you.

To the nurturers in us all: For helping friends in need, for compassion for strangers in pain, for helping children to learn, and for being good stewards of our world…Happy Nurturer’s Day!

If you are an aunt, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a coworker, a coach, or a listener. If you’ve comforted another person, if you’ve offered support or encouragement, or if you’ve shared a hug. If you’ve read something on this site and responded with kind words or sent up a prayer for a sister in need. If you’ve been any or all of these things, then it’s time you acknowledge yourself.

You’ve been there for me, in our forums, in your comments, in your presence here with us on this site. For that I say, Thank you! and Happy Nurturer’s Day!

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s mostly at peace with her decision to be childfree.

 

It Got Me Thinking…About Beloved Teachers

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Tuesday, May 7, is National Teacher’s Day in the United States. Ever since the tragic shooting at the Sandy Hook Elementary School last December 12, I have been thinking a lot about teachers and all that they give to their students, from a listening ear to loving discipline to school supplies purchased with their own meager earnings. Virginia Leigh Soto was one of the teachers who gave her life at Sandy Hook. She was shot as she used her body as a shield to try to protect several of her first grade students. (Here’s a lovely article from CNN that recognizes all of the heroes on that sad day.)

In one of the many news stories that followed the shooting, I heard someone describe one of the teachers as childfree but “she treated all of her students as if they were her own children.” They might have been describing Ms. Soto. She was only 27 at the time of her death, so perhaps she would have had children of her own one day, but I would argue that her love for her students was independent of any parenting experience. That’s my experience of most teachers, and it is evidence that flies in the face of the old “you wouldn’t understand unless you’re a parent” accusation we all have heard.

As I thought back to the beloved teachers of my youth, I wasn’t surprised to realize that almost all of them were parents or would go on to become parents. Except for one: Mr. K. Both he and his wife were teachers; he taught English Composition to high schoolers and she taught elementary students in the inner city. Perhaps they couldn’t have children of their own. Perhaps they looked at their combined incomes and decided raising children wasn’t in their budget. Perhaps they both loved their work so much that they wanted to dedicate all their creative energy to raising good students. I’ll never know the answer, but I do know that they were both were respected and adored by their students.

Mr. K was the first teacher who truly saw me and my potential. “You’re a good writer,” he said to me on that fateful day, “but you have some work to do.” Previous English teachers had strongly discouraged me, to the point that I had given up and was just hoping to pass the required courses. With Mr. K’s encouragement and guidance, I worked my tail off to learn and improve. I am a professional, published writer today because of the seeds he planted and nourished.

Fortunately I had an opportunity to thank Mr. K before he passed away 20-some years ago, and I like to think his spirit has celebrated my successes. Next Tuesday I’ll be looking around at the other teachers in my circle—both parents and cheros (heroes who happen to be childfree)—and thinking about how I might acknowledge them. “Thank you for your sacrifices. Thank you for your passion. Thank you for loving the students in your care as though they were your own children.”

I invite you to join me in this little campaign of thankfulness for the teachers of the world. And, if you are a teacher yourself, I have a message for you: I appreciate you and all that you do.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

 

To Shower or Not To Shower

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.

 

It Got Me Thinking…About Hug Deprivation

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

I had a great life. I’d started and was running a successful business. I had a tribe of smart, funny, and supportive women friends. I was healthy and fit. Furthermore, I was coming to terms with the possibility that I would remain single and childfree, and I was becoming more confident that I could create a fulfilling life for myself, by myself. I had everything I needed and I was happy.

Until.

During an extraordinary two-week period, I took care of my 15-month-old nephew, Jake, while his parents traveled. We danced, we laughed. He threw tantrums, I stressed about keeping the house together and keeping him from getting hurt. Everything was somewhat under control. Then one night, while I was in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes, he came up behind me, threw his arms around my leg in a tight hug, kissed the back of my calf, then toddled back to the living room.

“Thanks, Jake!” I managed to get out before tears locked up my voice. A current of love surged from my leg and throughout my body as I sobbed into the soapy water. I was struck by the realization of how touch deprived I had been for so long. Sure, friends greeted each other with a light hug and peck on the cheek. It wasn’t even the passion of a romantic relationship that I longed for. It was the daily human interaction, the hugs and kisses, the gentle caresses, the genuine affection, the skin-to-skin contact, something moms get (and have even been heard to complain about).

At that time in my life, I had none of that in my home. What made me a bit scared was that I hadn’t even noticed. It had become my “normal” and I hadn’t thought anything of it until Jake reawakened the need in me.

When I got back home, I brainstormed how I might create more physical affection in my life. I ruled out engaging in one-night stands and, well, hiring male escorts, both of which lacked the “genuine” aspect I needed. I thought about scheduling more frequent massages. I lavished my dog with belly rubs, which helped some. Was it enough? Would it be enough?

The one answer that made sense to me was that in order to receive, I needed to give. I could visit elderly residents of retirement homes, providing them with conversation, attention, and gentle touches. I could become more huggie with my friends, especially my single friends. I could offer to babysit, giving my mom-friends breaks they needed and getting some cuddling time with the children who inhabit my circles.

Are you aware of this need in yourself? If you’ve come up with creative solutions, please share them with us in a comment. Meanwhile (and I know this is just a tidbit), please consider yourself cyber-hugged.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree.

 

It Got Me Thinking…About To Do Lists

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Back when I was planning a life with babies, I created two separate to do lists. List #1 was all the fun things I wanted to do while I was still footloose and fancy-free. At the time I was anticipating single motherhood, I didn’t want to have any regrets about what I would be sacrificing, so my list included indulgences such as reading the big classic books, watching all of Oscar’s Best Picture winners, and exploring different countries and sampling their wines.

List #2 included all the fun things I wanted to do with my children, such as teaching them how to make my gram’s Christmas coffee cake, singing songs around campfires, coaching their sports teams, and demonstrating the art of touching their noses with their tongues.

I cranked through List #1, confident that I was on my path. Aaah…but life is what happens when you’ve made other plans. When I realized that baby-making was not going to happen for me, List #2 became a source of great pain. It mocked me. And what made it even more unbearable was that for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a to do list and I didn’t know how to go about creating a new one.

It seemed at times that the fearless, focused, fired-up woman I used to be had gone into hiding. I missed the gal who had passion and drive, the dreamer who confidently made plans and optimistically pursued them. Who was this “new” woman and what did she want out of life?

I don’t have answers yet. I’m still in a weird limbo, knowing that all I need is a big dream to set my heart aflutter again, then I can go about creating List #3. Till then, my list looks something like this:

  • Pray
  • Listen to my heart
  • Follow my curiosity
  • Live in the now
  • Find joy in every day

Deep down I’m still that fearless gal, I just need to stretch my muscles and start using them again. And most of all, I need to trust that even if my life doesn’t follow my plans to a T, I will still experience something wonderful.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree.