filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
I always start my mornings by reading the newspaper (I know; call me old-fashioned) and my day officially begins after I’ve read the comics.
Recently, Darrin Bell’s Candorville tickled my funny bone, with this cartoon.
I wonder if making a few bucks would ease the sting of listening to parents who don’t quite get that we might not want to hear every detail about their children.
No, probably not.
Now that the election is but a mere distant memory, it’s safe to come out and have a whine.
According to a pre-election article in the Huffington Post, Kansas House of Representatives candidate, Brandon Whipple was denounced by the Tea Party for not having children.
Literature distributed in Wichita, read: “Can someone with no children really understand your family’s needs?”
In defense of the campaign, the head of Kansas for Liberty said, “If you have no experience in an area, it is hard for you to make informed decisions in an area.”
It’s this kind of small-minded thinking that makes me despair for the future of this country, however, there is hope. The people of Kansas apparently didn’t think much of this pathetic personal attack either. Whipple won the seat easily.
So, now that’s off my chest, over to you. It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s got your knickers in a twist today?
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I can’t even remember what it was that I ordered, but at some point in the last couple of years I purchased a gift online for a niece or nephew, and BAM! Now I’m on everyone’s mailing list.
By everyone, I mean every company that makes stuff for kids—bedding, clothing, toys, gear—and as we rev up for holiday shopping, I’m getting catalogues from all of them. Cute kids in Santa-themed PJs, cute kids playing with cute dogs while cute parents look on with pride and joy, cute kids who are healthy and happy. Just shoot me now! The promotional flyer that really put me over the edge was for organizational systems especially for parents. I’m not even sure what it’s supposed to do (I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at the Web site), but maybe I don’t understand it because I’m not a parent. Whatever!
You know, I also buy my fair share of chocolate. You’d think I’d be inundated by catalogues brimming with sweet things for me, but noooooo.
Say it with me: The Holiday Season Sucks!
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
During a recent workshop support call, we were discussing loss and how to begin coming to terms with the idea of not having children. One member raised a question:
“How do you keep moving forward day-to-day?”
It’s a good question. When you’ve suffered a loss, or a series of losses, and you realize children aren’t going to be in your future, how do you keep getting out of bed and getting on with life, when what you feel like doing is curling up and wishing for the world to just leave you alone?
Another member of the group had a great suggestion:
“What helped me was staying focused on what I do have, instead of obsessing about what I don’t have,” she said.
When the goal of motherhood has been your main focus for so long, it’s natural to focus on what’s lost, what’s being given up by walking away from that goal. (And let’s face it, it can be a very long list.) But a little dose of Pollyanna can go a long way in making it through the day.
Look around you. There’s evidence everywhere to support what we do have. If you don’t live on the East Coast of the U.S, you probably have power in your home. In fact, you most likely have a home to have power in. Maybe you have good health, a strong relationship, a close family, or good friends. When you look up and look around, it’s amazing to see how much you do have.
Shifting perspective can be a good coping tool. It doesn’t diminish what’s been lost, not one bit, and it doesn’t mean there’s no excuse for grief, or sadness. That loss is real and it takes time to heal. But shifting focus can help you keep moving forward.
This Thursday is Thanksgiving here in the U.S., traditionally a time of gratitude. So, employing this perspective shift, what are you grateful for in your life? How are you lucky? What are some of the things that you do have going for you?
It is with great pleasure and excitement that I can reveal today the brand new Life Without Baby logo. This is Stage I of the Great Life Without Baby Makeover, and a new and beautiful website will be following in the New Year.
Earlier this year I spent some time thinking about what I want this website to become. In my vision, the image of a butterfly kept coming up over and over again as a symbol of transition and metamorphosis.
And that’s what we’re doing here, ladies. We are in transition. We are journeying from what we expected to be to what we will become. And the end result, just like the butterfly, will be beautiful.
And speaking of beautiful women, huge thanks to the wonderful and talented Julia Clarke at ScarletHare Designs who created the logo (and also designed the cover of my book!)
Wishing you all a beautiful weekend.
Last month I announced the Great Life Without Baby Makeover and asked, “If you wandered onto a site that was exactly what you’d been looking for, what would you find there?”
You responded with some great suggestions and I’m working to implement those ideas as best I can.
Several of you mentioned how much you enjoy the Guest Bloggers, how refreshing it is to hear new voices, and how reassured you feel by knowing you’re not the only person going through this mess.
Andrea suggested a new “You’re Not Alone” column, featuring readers’ “own stories of fall, personal suffering, and acceptance: of slowly getting back up.”
I love this idea, so I’m putting out a call right now.
“Tell us your stories!”
Here are some suggestions to start you thinking:
What do you wish you could tell people?
What was your darkest moment?
What turned things around for you?
What made a difference?
How did you start coming to terms?
How do you see your future?
What’s the silver lining you never could have imagined?
Your story doesn’t have to include all of these—or even any of these. I’m just using these as prompts to light a creative spark.
And if you’re thinking “I’m not a writer; I can’t do this” banish those thoughts right now. Storytelling is a basic human instinct. It’s how we learn and how we share information. Don’t overthink it; it’s in your bones. Just tell us; we’ll appreciate it because many of us will have lived it too.
So, put on your thinking caps and send me your stories. You can email them right to my inbox at: lisa [at] lifewithoutbaby [dot] com.
I can’t wait to hear from you.
Some weeks Whiny Wednesday is my favorite day of the week and some weeks I have not a care in the world to whine about.
This week I have a list…and it’s long…but I’m too darn tired, crabby, and hormonal to even get started.
But don’t let me get in the way of your whine this week. It is Whiny Wednesday after all, so knock yourself out.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Dear Mr. Obama,
I voted for you. Twice. And last night I stayed up well past my bedtime in anticipation of hearing your acceptance speech. I was glued to the TV, watched the projections on several channels, and toasted the success of your campaign. Finally you came on and addressed us all. Or so I thought.
You shared a story about meeting a family in Mentor, Ohio, that risked losing everything to provide for their 8-year-old daughter who was fighting leukemia. Fortunately, health care reform allowed for their insurance coverage to continue. (Amen, by the way.) “I had an opportunity to not just talk to the father, but meet this incredible daughter of his,” you said, “and when he spoke to the crowd listening to that father’s story, every parent in that room had tears in their eyes.”
Mr. President, when did compassion become the domain of parents? I am a childless woman, yet I had tears in my eyes when I heard about this family because I have walked this walk with friends, coworkers, and family members. Just because I haven’t birthed or adopted a child doesn’t mean I have no heart. In fact, quite often when a friend has been in crisis, I and other childless friends have been the ones to step up and help—financially, emotionally, physically—because we do not have the responsibilities and time commitments of people who have chosen to be parents.
In a campaign, I know how easy it is to fall into preaching to your constituents, and I suppose that’s why we hear so much about family values. It certainly was a hot topic throughout this last campaign season. Yet I ask you to consider that families come in many sizes and descriptions: mixed race, two moms, two dads, single parents, childless, and single people who create family among friends. We are all compassionate, not because we are parents, but because we are human. And guess what else, we all vote.
Wishing you much success in your new term. God bless all of America!
Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status, but sometimes she gets a little riled up.
Last week, a woman I’ve known for almost ten years finally decided it was safe to ask me a question about infertility.
“I wondered…” she began. “My grandmother always used to say that when there are cats in the house, women don’t have babies. I didn’t believe it and thought it was just an old wives’ tale, but recently I’ve noticed that many of the women I know who don’t have children have cats. Do you know anything about this?”
I told her I hadn’t heard of this, that it was most likely just superstition, but that I’d look into it and let her know.
But even as the logical part of my brain was writing the idea off as a misguided belief, and even as I was surfing the internet looking for any shred of scientific evidence to support it, I found myself looking sideways at Felicity, my poor unsuspecting cat, and wondering if she could be the cause of my otherwise unexplained infertility.
It’s been a while since I’ve caught myself playing the Blame Game—taking some irrational idea and trying to twist it into an explanation of why I can’t have children. I did it a lot in the early days, racking my brains for something in my past that I could pin my infertility on. Everything from Chernobyl fallout and birth control to too much computer time and too much wine was put under the microscope as a possible culprit. I refused to believe that it could have been “just one of those things.”
The scientist in me won’t allow fate, God’s will, or bad luck to factor into my infertility. There is a biological reason that my body’s reproductive system got old before the rest of me, and why my ovaries don’t function like they’re supposed to. But like so many other things in life, pinning blame on something or someone doesn’t change the outcome. So, I’m choosing not to expend my energy on finding the culprit, but instead I’m putting my efforts into making the best of the hand I’ve been dealt.
Call me fatalistic, but playing the Blame Game feels like a waste of my valuable time—time that could be spent living my life instead.
A few of you mentioned recently that you’d love to be able to find a local support group near you. It’s going to take a bit of coordinating, but it’s on the list of things to figure out in the near future. In the meantime, the next best thing is a support group that meets by phone.
I’ve been facilitating some group support calls as part of the “Finding Peace” program and participants say that it has really helped to be able to talk with peers who understand them. As the facilitator, I’ve been really inspired by the support and camaraderie I’ve experienced in these groups.
With the holidays fast approaching, it seems that now would be a good time to offer up some extra support. It can be a busy time of year, so rather than putting together a formal program, I am hosting a series of support group calls that you can drop in on as needed.
The first call is on Thursday, November 15th at 5:30pm PST and the cost for the one-hour meeting is $20. If it looks as if this is something that is going to be of value for everyone, I will add additional sessions throughout the holidays and into the New Year.
If you’d like to register for the November 15th session, you can do so here. If you’d like to learn more, you can find all the details here.
As always, I’m open to feedback and suggestions as to what will be most helpful.
~ "a raw, transparent account of the gut-wrenching journey of infertility."
~ "a welcome sanity check for women left to wonder how society became so fixated on motherhood."
