Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Study Seeking Childless-Not-By-Choice Couples

Katie Gentile is a psychologist and professor embarking on a new project that I’m very pleased to be able to share with you. She is currently interviewing couples who are childless-not-by-choice, with the aim of furthering the discussion about how women create meaningful lives in our mommy-centric culture. Katie’s interest comes straight from her own experiences with fertility medicine.

Katie is looking for volunters to interview. She’s looking to conduct two interviews of about an hour with each couple, and all the information will be kept confidential.

If you’d be willing to talk to Katie to help her with her study, please contact her via e-mail (kgentile AT jjay DOT cnuy DOT edu) or through her Life Without Baby page.

Childless Expectations

 On my morning flight yesterday I sat next to a woman who asked me (after we’d started a conversation) if I had children. When I told her I didn’t, she didn’t pass any comment, ask me any prying questions, or shift away from me in her seat. Instead, we had a long discussion about helicopter parents, parenting as a competitive sport, and the pressures of being a teacher in this age. She offered her opinions and accepted mine without even a sniff of condescension at my lack of hands-on parenting experience. She told me about her children—a psychology student daughter, who doesn’t take any crap from guys, and a son who’s a successful white rap artist. She told me, without gushing, that she was very proud of her children, that she loves them very much, but if she had it to do all over again, she’s not sure she would. This was one of the most refreshing conversations I’ve had on the subject of motherhood in a long time, but it was strangely unnerving. I’ve come to expect certain reactions from people when I tell them I don’t have children; I’ve come to expect that look of skepticism when I give an opinion on parenting. My expectations may have come from experience, but they’ve created my own form of prejudice. I expect mothers to judge me in a certain way, and sometimes, they just don’t.

Why We Can’t Always Get the Help We Need

Harriet Brown wrote this fascinating article in this week’s New York Times Health section. It’s about how we cope with other people’s crises, or more to the point, how others cope with ours. It was a real eye-opener for me, because I learned a lot about how I deal when people around me are in trouble, but it also shed light on some of the reactions we’ve experienced from other people. For example:

Awkwardness is a common reaction — not knowing what to say or do. Some people say nothing; others, in a rush to relieve the feelings of awkwardness, blurt out well-intentioned but thoughtless comments, like telling the parent of a child with cancer, “My grandmother went through this, so I understand.”

If you’ve dealt with infertility or loss, I know you’ve met these well-meaning people. “My sister tried for 10 years, then gave up and got pregnant.” You know the ones. But why do people do this? Here’s one explanation:

Feelings of vulnerability can lead to a kind of survivor’s guilt: People are grateful that the trauma didn’t happen to them, but they feel deeply ashamed of their reactions. Such emotional discomfort often leads them to avoid the family in crisis.

The author went on to explain that when her teenage daughter was hospitalized with anorexia, many of her friends disappeared, just at a time when she needed them most. Looking back, she realized that the friends who disappeared had daughters the same age as hers.

They could picture all too vividly the same thing happening to their children; they felt too much empathy rather than not enough.

Interesting. Is it possible that some of the people who say things that feel cruel are just putting up their own defense mechanisms to avoid facing something that could happen to them?

Brown concludes by saying:

Thinking back to my own years of crisis, I wondered why I’d focused on the friends who didn’t come through when so many others had.

David B. Adams, a psychologist in private practice in Atlanta adds:

“The human condition is that traumatic events occur, and the reality is that we are equipped to deal with them. The challenge that lies before us is quite often more important than the disappointment that surrounds us.”

We can’t control how those around us react to our crises, or how they help or hinder; all we can do is focus our energies on finding our own way through, and appreciate the people who are there for us.

Another Side of the Motherhood Discussion

My friend Denise writes a wonderfully brave blog (and has also written a stunning memoir) about adoption. She was a teenage mother in the 60s and gave up her son for adoption, then finally tracked him down as a grown man.

I’ve been reluctant to share the blog because it’s always felt like such a delicate subject, especially those of us who never got the chance to have children of our own, but it occurred to me today that she touches on a lot of the same themes we talk about and the issues that we deal with. She writes about loss when you’re not allowed to grieve, about choices you have no choice but to make, about the hurtfulness of people’s attitudes and misconceptions, about hiding, and about being so mad you could spit.  Any of this sound familiar?

I think it’s always interesting to see a topic from multiple points-of-view and as we’re on the subject of tolerance this week, I thought I’d share this. Denise’s blog is a beautiful look at a different facet of this motherhood discussion. If you’re up to it, take a look.

When a Little Bit of Education Goes a Long Way

A couple of years ago Jose and I went to The Museum of Tolerance here in L.A. My parents grew up in England during the Second World War, so I’m interested in that period of history, and I wanted to learn more about the Holocaust.  MOT is a beautifully designed museum, both the external building, and it’s interior content. But we ended up leaving after only half an hour. Here’s why:

The museum only offers guided tours. You have to travel in a group and stop for the prescribed amount of time at each exhibit and be given all the information either by audio, or by watching a video, or reading. There’s no lingering over especially interesting bits and no jumping forward over areas that don’t grab your attention. For me (and this is a highly rated museum, so this is just my opinion) I felt that I was being force-fed my Holocaust education. The Museum of Tolerance wasn’t very tolerant of my ignorance.

Now, I’m an adult who took a free day from work and chose to visit this museum for my own edification. I have a college education, so I know how to learn under my own power. I wanted to be trusted to take the information and form my own thoughts. I wasn’t given that chance, and so I left, sadly, with my education.

I think that the majority of people out there in the world don’t understand the decision to be childfree and don’t understand how it feels to be childless-not-by-choice. I would say that most of us didn’t understand it either before we had that experience. I believe that we have an obligation to educate, to explain, to show people the other side of the story, but we can’t force-feed that education. The people in the restaurant last week got my back up with their closed minded opinions, but stomping over there and giving them a piece of my mind would have accomplished what? Nothing. Those people didn’t want to be educated, especially not by a complete stranger.

What I can do is work with the people who do mean something to me. When a well meaning (genuinely well-meaning, because there are some actual mean people out there) says something upsetting I have the choice to take the opportunity and explain my side of the story and why I’m upset, or let it go. Getting my hair all on fire and yelling about how insensitive they are isn’t going to help.

We need to talk, educate, explain, show, but only when the audience is willing and only for as long as they’re willing to listen. Bit-by-bit, we can tell our side of the story, and bit-by-bit, we can change the way other people view us.

Tolerance

After last week’s post about the overheard conversation, I’ve been thinking a lot about tolerance and about trying to understand one another. I think that, as a group, we childless women often feel (and often are) misunderstood. We feel that people don’t think before they say things that hurt our feelings, that people with children make assumptions about the type of people we are, that employers assume that, because we don’t have kids, we are the go-to people for extra work. We’re always ready to stand up for one another whenever there’s an injustice done to one of our sisters. I love that about us.

And yet, even among ourselves, we have different frames of reference. There are those of us who are physically unable to have children; those of us who are emotionally unwilling, because of our circumstances; there are those of us who don’t have the opportunity to be parents; those of us who are childless by choice; and those of us who never had the desire for children. And even within those groups, each of us has a different story to tell about how ended up here on this site, looking for other women like us. Each of us looks at our situation through our own personal filters—just like those people out there who look through their own filters and see us differently than we see ourselves, who look at a childless person and see something they cannot understand.

So, I’m writing on a theme this week. It’s a bit of an experiment, so if the wheels fall off by Wednesday, just come back next week and everything should be back to normal. But for this week, I’m writing about tolerance. Stay tuned.

Daring to Be Ourselves

This upcoming book grabbed my attention just by its title alone. Daring to Be Ourselves! Here’s what the Amazon write-up has to say:

“This impressive collection brings together words of wisdom from many of today’s most renowned and influential women, including Maya Angelou, Jane Fonda, Gloria Steinem, Cameron Diaz, Melissa Etheridge, Alice Walker, Eve Ensler, Isabel Allende, Elizabeth Lesser, Jane Goodall, and many others. Together, their voices speak to women of all ages and walks of life, addressing issues like equality, overcoming adversity, finding balance, and being more connected to the earth. Experience the power of their words as they share their passions and struggles, life philosophies, and hopes and dreams for the future. Let them inspire you in your own life to find your voice, speak your truth, and make a difference in the world.”

Oh yes, so now I really want to read it.

But, don’t you think that “Daring to Be Ourselves” could be our tagline? We aren’t being the women that society expects us to be. Some of us can’t have children, some of us won’t have them, but we are still amazing women, still doing great things in our own corners of the world, still being our wonderful selves.

So today, I dare you to be yourself.

Defending Our Honor

Last night I almost came to blows in defense of our collective honor. It was our last meal out on vacation and we were making it a good one–crisp tablecloths, fresh seafood, flowing wine–you get the picture. The restaurant had all but cleared out as I was sampling the delectable flavors of some homemade lavender ice cream, when I caught a snippet of conversation from the other remaining table.

“He’s very selfish,” said the man, “He doesn’t have children…”

As you can imagine, that caught my attention, so I craned my neck to hear more. Unfortunately I was too far away, but I did catch this:

“Yes, she hasn’t created the next generation. She has three step-children, of course, but that doesn’t count…”

Sisters, I was this close to marching over there and setting this bunch of old coots straight. How dare they assume this man didn’t have children because of his selfishness? How dare they suggest that this woman had an obligation to procreate to carry on some family line. How dare they suggest that raising someone else’s children isn’t a worthy role?

In the end, I decided these people were a lost cause, and that it wasn’t worth ruining my lovely dinner for the sake of their education. There are some people who just aren’t going to get it, no matter what. But I think that our generation is starting to understand and to value people for more than their ability to pop out heirs.

That having been said, when I walked past their table on the way out, you’d better believe I gave them my very best evil eye.

Spring Cleaning My Past

I know it’s a bit late in the year, but I’m spring cleaning.

Over the years I’ve been added to mailing lists and e-mail subscriptions based on my plans to be a mother. Even though I’ve moved on to a new chapter in my life, every now and then a reminder from my past pops up to haunt me.

It’s been a while since I’ve received free samples of diapers and formula in the mail, but I still get plenty of postcards for children’s portrait photographers, baby fairs, and parenting classes.

I’ll be unsubscribing myself from the e-mail lists of Babies R Us, Adoptive Families, and my former acupuncturist. It’s not that these reminders send me into any kind of emotional turmoil; I just don’t have a use for their products and they’re cluttering up my Inbox. So it’s time to say “Goodbye.”

Have you done a spring cleaning on your past? Or are you still not ready?

16 Things You Shouldn’t Say to a CNBC

I’ve been cruising around the Internet looking for interesting sites to share on this blog. There are plenty of good ones out there, but I’m finding myself drawn to blogs that have humor, with just a tinge of bitterness thrown in.

La Belette Rouge has just such a blog and I found myself laughing at this post: 16 Things You Shouldn’t Say to a CNBC (childless not by choice.) Granted my laugh was the type you blow down your nose with your lips pursed, rather than an all-out belly laugh, but sometimes a laugh is a laugh is a laugh.