Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Do We Have a Responsibility to Reproduce?

I’m sure if you’ve ever told anyone of your intentions regarding motherhood, you’ve heard a response something along the lines of: “Oh, but you’d be such a great mother,” or “The world needs people like you to reproduce.” It comes with the suggestion that if you’re intelligent, law-abiding, relatively sane, and wouldn’t be seen dead on Jerry Springer, you have some kind of obligation to society to contribute your genes to the world. But what is your obligation really?

As women of the 21st century, we still fight the battles our mothers and grandmothers fought. We may not be fighting for the right to vote or for women’s liberation, but we’re still fighting for equality in pay, for the right to marry who we want, and to have full control over what we do to our own bodies. And we still tussle with the wife/mother roles we’ve had passed down to us. Many of us still take on the majority of the household chores and make sure all the family birthday cards go out on time. And yet we’re striving to succeed on our own terms, trying to make a difference, and trying not to be labeled simply Wife/Mother/Grandmother.

But the fact remains that there can never really be equality in motherhood. Women bear children. We feed them. We are naturally the nurturers. Motherhood isn’t a task we can trade with a male partner: “I’ll install the new sprinkler system if you birth the babies.”

So as women, do we have a responsibility to reproduce? The world is overpopulated, polluted, and crowded, but if we all stop reproducing, the human race can’t go on? So what is our responsibility to the continuation of mankind. Tell us your thoughts on this subject.

Guest Blogger: Kathleen Guthrie

The latest relationship-with-potential had ended, and I was again lamenting the fact that I was nowhere near realizing my dreams of love, marriage, and having a child. “Maybe you’re supposed to birth a book instead,” my friend suggested.

I should what?! Like that was supposed to fill the aching hole in my heart?

A decade later, and I still can’t come up with a witty response.

As I breezed through my 30s and early 40s, other friends (and their mothers, and my mother’s friends, and women I’d just met at mutual friends’ baby showers) offered up alternate ways I might satisfy my desire to have a child of my own: Become a preschool/Sunday school teacher. Open a day care center. Volunteer to hold sick babies in a NICU. Become the world’s best aunt ever.

I embraced the last suggestion while I built a successful business, nurtured friendships, traveled, and eventually entered into a loving, built-to-last relationship with a wonderful man. In time, I made my peace with the childless role Mother Nature had planned for me.

Still… I wonder. What am I supposed to do with the rest of my life? I spent the first half of it longing to be pregnant, to experience my body operating at its highest function, to create the miracle of life. I had daydreamed about soccer games, Girl Scout meetings, and family game nights. I had looked forward to raising good humans and sharing them with the world. While I consider my life today “full” and blessed and very happy, I wonder if there’s anything out there for me to do that will be as fulfilling as being a mother.

And so, sister-mentors, I ask for your wisdom and guidance. What other paths have you explored or chosen? What gives your life-without-children meaning? Have you found fulfillment by creating works of art, expanding your definition of “family,” doing volunteer work, or embracing your many freedoms? And what do you say to friends or strangers who unintentionally hurt you with their suggestions for how to make the most of a childfree life?

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Her articles have appeared in AAA’s Westways, GRIT, Real Simple, and 805 Living magazines. Read “How to Be the World’s Best Aunt Ever” on eHow.com.

Top 10 Birth Control Alternatives Your Doctor Won’t Tell You About

Not all birth control is pharmaceutical; sometimes the world around us is deterrent enough. Here’s a tongue-in-cheek look at some alternative birth control options that you won’t hear about from your doctor.

10. A week on a Disney Family Cruise

9. Water cooler talk about stretch marks, sleepless night, mucus plugs, sagging boobs, leaky bladders, and expanded feet

8. A cross-country flight sandwiched in the window seat next to a barfy, colicky, whiny, wriggly baby and his clueless mother

7. Diapers and their accompanying aromas

6. Finding $700 a month to put away for college tuition—for each kid

5. Your friend’s “Meet the baby and watch my birth video” party

4. The invention of musical toys

3. Your neighbor’s manipulative, destructive, tantrum-throwing, bad mannered, cat-terrorizing grandchildren

2. Lizzie Borden

1. Kate Gosselin

That’s my top ten. What’s on your list of things that make you thankful you don’t have children, or put you you off ever having them? If you’re a mom reader sneaking in, what’s the biggest surprise that no one warned you about?

Whiny Wednesday

I’m tired of the media’s assumptions about women in relation to children. TIME magazine recently ran a special on Women’s Health and the front cover showed a woman (quite a tired-looking woman, I might add) laying in the grass, covered in children. Why is it automatically assumed that women come along with children? What about the rest of us? Do we women without children not count, too? Had it been a Men’s Health special would the photo have been of a wiped out, stressed out father? Probably not.

There’s no escaping the media’s assumptions—even on this site. If you’ve come through the main Life Without Baby site, I’m sure you’ve noticed the Google Ads. This morning’s ads included announcements for a sale at a kids’ store, a mommy support group, and how to adopt a newborn quickly! People, you are barking up the wrong tree.

So, along with today’ whine comes an apology: Please forgive the wholly inappropriate ads. This is a new site and some of the kinks are still being worked out, so please bear with me while I figure out how to make the ads go away, or at least be more appropriate for our members.

It’s Whiny Wednesday, time let loose your inner two-year-old. What’s your gripe?

Useful Advice

My friend Elizabeth passed along a poem to me from Garrison Keillor’s website. It’s called Useful Advice, by Catherine Tufariello, and begins:

You’re 37? Don’t you think that maybe
It’s time you settled down and had a baby?

I laughed at the first line, but quickly stopped laughing as I kept reading. Instead, I began checking off all the lines that I’d heard, maybe even writing a few extra lines for her. I know nothing about this poet, but I am certain, from reading this, that she heard every single one of these lines on her journey. You can read Useful Advice here.

Also, please take a second to visit Elizabeth’s blog, A moon, worn as if it had been a shell. Elizabeth writes about her life with baby, as  the mother of three children, including her daughter, Sophie, who is severely disabled. Elizabeth is a tireless advocate for children with special needs and offers a frank and often surprising perspective on the challenges as well as the rewards of raising a child with disabilities.

The Decision

I was not one of those women who never wanted children–quite the opposite. For as long as I can remember I had a vision of a family that included children—four to begin with, but as time went on I adjusted that number based on various opinions on population growth, financial considerations, and the practical implications of trying to lug around four kids. Regardless, a family with children was always in the picture of my future.

My primary reason for not having children back then was that I just didn’t meet anyone I really wanted to go through that with. Even in my 20’s I think I had the foresight to look at the long-term consequences of breeding with each prospective partner and decide that the cons would eventually outweigh the pros. So I was in my mid-30s before I finally met someone I knew would be a reliable, committed, and fun father. Not long after that is when I discovered I couldn’t have children of my own without some serious medical intervention—something I wasn’t prepared to do.

So, my decision to not have children was a long time coming. It came out of weighing the pros and cons of continuing what had become a mad quest for children, biological or adopted, and finally deciding that most important thing for me was a loving relationship with my husband, one built from mutual respect for one another’s needs and wants, and realizing that a family of two was all we really needed. Once the decision was made, we were both happy with it.

But now, comes another decision: At 40, I am still within the window of conceiving naturally, and even though it would be virtually impossible because of my condition, I’m at an age where hormones do funny things. What if I got pregnant now? It’s an odd situation to be in, having hoped for so long for a baby, but I’ve made a decision that not having children would be the best thing for us now. So, my dilemma is this: after dealing with infertility for so long and finally being told I will never have children, do I now need to start using birth control again to make sure it doesn’t happen? The irony is too ridiculous, so for now, I’m doing something I never did in my younger years; I’m taking my chances that it could never happen to me.

The Fairy Tale Ending

Continuing our topic of stereotypes, I came across this Salon article by Tracy Clark-Flory, about the pressure on single women to marry and settle down. She says:

… a new study has found that the “spinster” stigma is still alive and thriving — and it’s worst for women in their mid-20s to mid-30s. After reaching the age of 25, LiveScience explains, women begin to feel “scrutinized by friends, family members and others” — including themselves, of course — “for their singlehood.”

Ah yes, the old “When are you going to settle down?” question. Stick around all you 20- to 30- year olds, because not far behind that one is, “When are you going to have kids?” As Clark-Flory goes on to point out:

Decades later, that warning [that being too picky will lead to a life of spinsterhood] has been passed along fully intact and internalized even by supposedly enlightened young feminists like myself. It just goes to show how cunning and insidious that prince charming, fairy-tale ending is.

And the same goes for having children. While many women do think it through, weigh the pros and cons, and make the decision to have or to not have children, many more feel the pressure from society, family, peers, and just follow along with what’s expected of them, and some of them discover that the fairytale isn’t really what they wanted after all.

Top 10 Best Things About Child-free Holidays

10. Making up fun new traditions all of your own

9. Enjoying uninterrupted adult conversation over dinner

8. Being able to wriggle out of family obligations without Grandma pouring on the guilt about never seeing her grandkids

7. Being able to serve sugary foods without risk of your guests having sugar-induced tantrums

6. Not having to battle your conscience about loving versus spoiling when shopping for gifts

5. Not feeling obligated to call every toy store within a 50 mile radius to find the last available hot item du jour

4. Not having to wipe a layer of dust off said item du jour two weeks after the event

3. Not having your favorite holidays become all about the kids

2. Choosing not to celebrate at all

1. Having the option of spending the holidays with someone else’s kids, feeding them sugar, spoiling them rotten, riling them into Tasmanian Devils, and then going home to your nice peaceful house.