Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Happy 4th of July

It always tickles me as a Brit to be celebrating America’s independence from my people, but hey, you can’t stop progress.

This year I will be watching the rocket’s red glare over my state’s capitol building (assuming the California budget will stretch to it this year.)

Then I am taking my show on the road to talk about my book, infertility, and the ups and downs of being childfree-not-by-choice.

If you happen to be in Sacramento I will be talking to Guy Farris on Sacramento & Company on Tuesday morning’s show, 9:00 a.m. Channel 10.

On Wednesday, I’ll be talking to Shannon Sanford on WTBQ in New Jersey (airing Saturday, I think.)

Then on Thursday, I’ll be talking live with Kim Iverson on her show that airs in all these fabulous places:

AUSTIN – KAMX (7pm-Midnight)
BUFFALO – WTSS (7pm-Midnight)
DENVER – KALC (7pm-Midnight)
INDIANAPOLIS – WZPL (7pm-Midnight)

MILWAUKEE – WMYX (7pm-Midnight)
MEMPHIS – WMC-FM (7pm-Midnight)
NORFOLK- WPTE (7pm-Midnight)
PORTLAND – KRSK (7pm-Midnight)
WICHITA- KFBZ (6pm-11pm)

If you get the chance, please tune in. I will post links when I can.

For now, whether you’re celebrating 4th July, Canada Day, or having a normal Monday (or Tuesday for our Oceanic friends), have a safe and happy 4th of July.

P.S. Kathleen’s regular Monday “It Got Me Thinking…” column will post tomorrow.

Marking the End

Unless you’re one of those people who always knew they didn’t want children, you probably wrestled with your decision, or whatever circumstances were forcing your hand, for a long time.

As it was becoming more and more apparent to me that children were not going to be in my future – at least not in the way I’d anticipated – I started trying to get to grips with the idea that I would never be a mother. Some days I knew that I had to get off the infertility crazy train and start regaining my sanity, but then something would happen and I’d change my mind and try to figure out how to give it one more shot. I flip-flopped back and forth like a suffocating fish for many months, but finally I reached the end of the line.

There were several things that happened that pushed me closer to that decision, but there was one day that I will always consider to be “The End.” While tracking down gravesites for some of my husband’s more distant relatives, we discovered the unmarked grave of a baby cousin who had been given the same name we had chosen for our child. For me, that grave will always be my place of commemoration for the children I never had. I’ve never been back since then, but I always know that place is there if I need it.

I think it’s important to mark the end of things that are lost, and giving up on motherhood is an enormous loss. How did you know you’d reached The End or the Big Decision? How did you mark that point? If you haven’t marked that point, do you think it would help to have some kind of memorial, even if it was something only you knew about?

It Got Me Thinking…About Transplants

By Kathleen Guthrie

If my sister needed a new kidney, I’d be the first one in line to give her one of mine. I also have a pink donor dot on my driver’s license that will allow surgeons to remove and share any viable organs with strangers when my time has come. So when I first saw this article about a 25-year-old woman possibly getting her mother’s uterus so that she could have her own children, my heart cheered for the miracles of modern science.

And then I read more closely, and these little words made my heart stop: “…Sara is so desperate….” Oh, dear God, here we go again.

Described as “completely unproven,” this tricky and experimental procedure involves surgeries and drug therapies for both the recipient and the donor, in this case, Sara’s mother. If the transplant is successful and Sara is able to bear a child, she will later have to endure another surgery to have the uterus removed. These women apparently are willing to go through all of this, even knowing that in a previous attempt, the mother-to-be’s body rejected the transplanted uterus when she was four months pregnant. I find the multitude of tragedies in that scenario horrifying.

I want to believe that miracles are possible. I want to know that there is hope for Sara and for my friends who would make wonderful parents if this is indeed the “cure” they need. But I can’t help but worry that this is just another example of greedy, egotistical doctors preying on the desperation of others.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She loves children, but won’t be having any of her own.

Special Guest Post for Father’s Day

With Father’s Day approaching, I am pleased to offer a very speacial guest post today. My wonderful husband offers his thoughts on Father’s Day for you, and for the men in your life who don’t always get a voice. Over to you, Mr. Fabulous:

When Lisa mentioned to me recently that her readers would be interested in my thoughts on and about Father’s Day, I immediately refused.  The seed was planted however and I thought and thought and here for you, are my thoughts:

It occurs to me that Father’s Day is another opportunity for couples suffering from the various stages of infertility to get another black eye.  My position is unusual because I have children.  Lisa and I do not have children and never will, but I am a father.  I am glad and thankful for my children and for my granddaughter.  I think about them and miss them every day.

You all know that Lisa and I are childless due to infertility. This is the single unpleasant aspect in what is otherwise a relationship filled with friendship, laughter and bliss.

I think about it every day.

Our inability to reproduce makes me sad.  Once in a while it makes me very sad, such as when I attended Lisa’s performance at “Expressing Motherhood” and her story, which I had not previewed, snuck up on me and hit me between the eyes, hard.  This is why I have not read Lisa’s memoir of our experiences; I will never read it.

Regardless of my sadness, my message to you for Father’s day is one of hope.  Lisa and I tossed in the towel two years ago and I am still frequently sad because we will never have children.  I am not sad all the time, not every day, not any more.

It will get better.

You will feel better.  Your sense of humor will return.  You will find your libido.  Life, in all its glory, will go on and you will enjoy it once again.

This Sunday, Father’s Day, please remind your partner that things will get better.  Please remember to visit, or call or think about your old man, too.

Happy Father’s Day.

Father’s Day

by Harry Ruby as sung by  Groucho Marx

Today, Father is Father’s Day

And we’re giving you a tie.

It’s not much, we know –

It’s just our way of showing you

We think you’re a regular guy . . .

You told us we didn’t have to bother

But believe us it’s our pleasure to fuss.

For according to our Mother you’re our Father –

And that’s good enough for us,

And that’s good enough for us.

Remembering why you got together in the first place

If you’re in a relationship and you’ve faced infertility or loss, odds are you’ve been through the wringer. Few people are at their best under stress and when that stress is prolonged, sometimes for years, the edges of even the strongest relationship can get a little frayed and tattered.

Part of the process of coming-to-terms with a life without children is patching that old relationship and moving on down the road. But how do you even start that when so much water has gushed under the bridge? It’s hard. Sometimes when so much has changed, it’s easy to lose track of why the pair of you ever got together in the first place, but those reasons form the glue that will hold the hold mess together when things go wrong.

So, what was it about your spouse that made you decide this was the person you wanted to have children with? What made you fall in love with him or her in the first place?

When your plans for a family don’t go right, take some time to reconnect with your partner to remember what it was that made you ever start out on this journey.

Oh, and don’t forget to keep the spark ignited in the passion department. See this post for ideas!

Crotch Length and Infertility in Men

In the news recently, a study conducted at Baylor College of Medicine in Texas reveals that a man’s crotch length (that’s the distance between the scrotum and the anus) is directly related to fertility.

The study showed that infertile men had “a significantly shorter anogenital distance” than fertile men.

Apparently, this finding could be used as a “less invasive” way to test fertility in men, but my question is, “And do what about it?”

I understand the importance of continued research, but sometimes I’m just left scratching my head.

Whiny Wednesday: A Pregnancy Announcement

I just received a pregnancy announcement in the mail. Let me repeat that. I just received a pregnancy announcement in the mail, not a birth announcement, but a card informing me of a potential birth, a birth that is forecast to happen next year!

I was especially surprised because I’d seen the return address on the envelope and knew that the sender was a woman in her late 50s! Turns out it was an announcement of a grandchild-to-be. I know. But wait, it gets stranger. Tucked inside the card was a copy of a sonogram image of my friend’s daughter-in-law’s uterus and her 12-week old peanut.

Now granted, I’m a little old-fashioned in these regards. Coming from a culture that subscribes to the “don’t count your chickens until they’re hatched” mantra, it took me a while to adapt to the idea of baby showers and giving gifts before a baby is born. And frankly, after my own dabbling in infertility, and having heard your stories, I’m beginning to think that this notion of waiting isn’t so old-fashioned after all.

To say this least, this pregnancy announcement caught me off guard and, all things considered, I think a phone call would have sufficed, don’t you?

It’s Whiny Wednesday and this is what’s under my skin this week. What’s under yours?

The Five Stages of Grief

In her 1969 book On Death and Dying, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross described the five stages of grief as Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. If you’ve been given a diagnosis of infertility, suffered the loss of a pregnancy or baby, or you’ve reached a point in your life where you realize that motherhood just isn’t on the cards, odds are you’re all too familiar with these five stages.

Have you ever caught yourself saying some of these things?

“This can’t be happening to me?” “I’m perfectly healthy; what do you mean my tubes are blocked?” “I’m only 38; I’m too young to be infertile.” “I’m 42; there’s still time.”

That’s the Denial talking.

“It’s not fair.” “Why me?” “She doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” “Why is there no logic to the way blessings are handed out?”

That would be the Anger Stage.

How about: “I’ll just try this one last thing and then I’ll stop.” “If I can just relax, I know it will happen.” “If I lower my expectations, maybe I’ll meet someone worthy of being the father of my children.”

Yup. Bargaining.

“If I can’t be a mother, what’s the point of me?” “I must have done something to bring this on myself.” “No one understands what I’m going through. I feel so alone.”

Classic Depression.

“It’s going to be okay.” “So, you don’t always get what you want. At least I have my health/husband/career/golden retriever.”

This is at least the start of Acceptance.

As Kübler-Ross pointed out, the stages don’t always happen in this order, or in any logical sequence at all. May you got stuck in anger for a long time and skipped the bargaining all together, or maybe you went straight to acceptance, only to slip on one of life’s banana peels and end up right back in depression.

The thing is, it’s okay, it’s normal, and it won’t last forever.

Kübler -Ross applied her theory to death. In this situation, some people struggle with death until the end. Some psychologists believe that the harder a person fights death, the more likely they will be to stay in the denial stage, and the less likely they are to die in a dignified way.

Unlike someone facing death, we have somewhere to go after our losses. We have the chance for a new, if different, life. And while going through the five stages can be ugly and unpleasant, the key is to come out the other end with our dignity intact.

How Did You Know You Wouldn’t Have Children?

I write a lot about issues that affect me now that I’ve more or less come to terms with the fact that I won’t have children. Looking back over the past two or three years, I can see just how far I’ve come, and I’m pleased. Unfortunately, that’s not always very helpful for readers just beginning their journeys and sometimes I’m asked, “How did you get there?”

It’s a good question, but it doesn’t have a simple answer, so I thought I’d take a look back at some of the milestones that shaped my journey and try to analyze what made a difference for me.

Today, I’m starting with The Decision. How did you know you were going have to figure out how to come to terms with being childfree?

If you dealt with infertility, a doctor probably gave you a diagnosis that you knew would mean the end of the line, but if you were anything like me, you didn’t just throw up your hands at that point and say, “Okay, well I guess I just won’t bother trying anymore, then.” So, when did you know you were at that point?

If you are childfree by some circumstance other than infertility, maybe your journey was different. Maybe you toyed with the idea of having children despite your situation. How did you know that motherhood was definitely not going to be a part of your future?

And if you are childfree-by-choice, when did you know you wouldn’t have children?

I think all our stories are different, because it’s such a big milestone in our lives and not something that changes in an instant. For me, a number of factors were in play, but I think the biggest one was that I knew my husband and I were suddenly on different tracks. I think that he knew (although he didn’t like it) that it wasn’t going happen for us, whereas I was still running from doctor to doctor trying to find something that would work. I could feel us begin to drift apart and I finally realized that my marriage was more important to me than trying to prove that I wasn’t infertile.

“Don’t you mean you realized that your marriage was more important than having children, Lisa?”

No. And that’s one of the other factors in this. I realized that my quest was no longer about having children; it was about winning and proving that I wasn’t broken. My doctor had told me that using donor eggs would give me about a 50 percent chance of conceiving, but I didn’t want to use donor eggs and I didn’t want to go through IVF. That was my choice for my own reasons. But if having children was my top priority, wouldn’t I have done whatever it takes?

This is way too much public psychoanalysis for me right now, so let’s just say that my decision to get off the crazy train came slowly. There were many events that happened that pushed me towards the decision and many more that made me change my mind again along the way. Eventually though, I reached the Tipping Point and started figuring out how I was going to come to terms with the fact that something was wrong with me and that I wasn’t going to have children.

How about you? How did you get to that point? Please share your stories; yours could be the one that makes a big difference to someone who is trying to start coming to terms.

It Got Me Thinking…About Inappropriate Invitations

By Kathleen Guthrie

Yesterday afternoon, I received an online invitation to a networking event for entrepreneur moms. I did a little bit of research before replying, and quickly figured out that the invitation came from a “friend” on Facebook, an old friend from elementary school, who had invited every person on her friends list. So I can’t take in personally, and I didn’t include a comment with my RSVP explaining why I wouldn’t be attending. But, boy, just for kicks, I’d love to invite her to an infertility awareness seminar.

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