Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Holiday Blues and a Celebration

By Lisa Manterfield

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That’s me, living life to the fullest in trapeze class earlier this year.

I got caught out again this year with a bout of the Holiday Blues.

After a really fun and non-traditional Thanksgiving with wonderful friends, I headed into December ready to celebrate the holidays my way. Then Bam! I came down with the Holiday Blues.

There will always be things I wish were part of my festive season, like hand-delivering gifts to my family, shopping for small children, and creating the kind of Christmas I had as a child. But it wasn’t theses losses and what-ifs that gave me the blues this year.

Maybe it was the rainy weather that kept me indoors for much of the week. Maybe it was the end of year racing towards me highlighting the things that didn’t get accomplished this year. Or maybe it’s that Christmas doesn’t really feel like something to celebrate anymore.

Finally, I took my own advice, and that of a couple of friends, and dusted myself off. I bought a tree, made plans for Christmas Eve dinner at a favorite restaurant, and wrote and sent my cards. And then I made myself a cup of tea and sliced off a chunk of proper English fruitcake, and I curled up in a chair and wrote in my journal.

I made a list of everything good that happened this year—all the fun things I did (see photo, for one), the challenges I overcame, the goals I reached this year, the friends I spent time with, the family I visited.

And guess what I discovered? It’s been another great year this year. I have lived my life, perhaps not always to the fullest, but to the best that I was able. And I had a good time doing it.

That, I think, is plenty of reason to celebrate.

Holiday Self-Preservation

By Lisa Manterfield

Woman Giving Gift, Portrait, Blurred.Imagine you have a good friend who experiences a death in the family right before the holidays. She’s dealing with funeral arrangements and in among the holiday cards that people sent before they got the news are sympathy cards and notes of condolence. She has her loved one’s belongings to go through and her mind is anywhere but on the holidays. She is mourning and there is little or no room in her grief for festivities.

You understand this and so you forgive your friend when she doesn’t send a card or a gift this year. You don’t expect her to attend the annual get-together you usually have with your group of friends. Instead, you check in on her to make sure she’s okay and you let her know that you’re there for her if she needs anything. You both know next year will be different, that she’ll be back celebrating with you, even though this will always be a difficult time of year for her.

If you’re in the earliest stages of your journey, where perhaps your latest round of IVF has failed or you’ve just come to the realization that children aren’t going to be part of your plan, you’re also grieving a great loss. The difference is, most people around you aren’t going to understand why you aren’t in the holiday spirit and they’re going to expect you to attend events, show up with gifts, and contribute to the merriment. They probably won’t make the same concessions you would make for your friend, so it’s up to you to treat yourself as kindly as you would treat her.

If this year feels too difficult for you, consider taking the year off.

Seriously, what would happen if you didn’t send out cards this year? What would happen if you mailed gift certificates instead of subjecting yourself to the mall and all its triggering festivities to shop for gifts? Do you have to decorate? Can you make excuses for parties you don’t want to attend? Could you even take a year off from whatever family obligations you might have?

It’s just one year. Will the people you love disown you? Some might be upset and yes, there’ll be that relative or friend who’ll never let you not forget, but odds are, most will forgive and forget.

We often try so hard to be there for other people, to meet their expectations and give them the holiday experience they want. But maybe this year you could give yourself what you need instead.

It Got Me Thinking…About Saying the Wrong Thing

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTA buddy of mine, let’s call him Heath, works in PR in the entertainment industry, and he’s in the thick of a campaign for a new movie. One of the stars is making the rounds of various talk shows, and Heath is accompanying her.

Today I found myself laughing until tears flowed as Heath told me about her recent meeting with a young producer. He was prepping her for a TV interview and repeatedly advised her to tell a few “antidotes.”

“If you can start with an antidote…answer with an antidote…wrap up with a funny antidote….”

Now we all know he meant “anecdote,” but he was working so hard to do his job and impress this big star he had been assigned to prep, that she couldn’t bring herself to correct (and publicly embarrass) him. I appreciate her graciousness, and I appreciate Heath for telling me this story because it’s funny and sweet and we have all, at one time or another, been this eager young guy.

And it made me think about all the inappropriate things people say to us childfree women. With very few exceptions, none of the comments are mean-spirited. Most people who reach out are trying to love and support us, albeit at times clumsily and horribly. They don’t want to hurt us, and they are doing the very best that they can to navigate unfamiliar and treacherous territory. Maybe we can’t bring ourselves to laugh at their bumbling efforts, but I think I can find it in my heart to accept their efforts, to show them some compassion, and to just appreciate that someone really really wants to help.

 

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

Resetting Holiday Expectations

By Lisa Manterfield

Christmas Stockings Hanging over FireplaceRecently a friend posted this question of Facebook:

“Are you the adult you dreamed of becoming?”

I laughed when I read it. No! Of course I’m not. The adult I dreamed of was an international engineering consultant, living in a large house with a circular driveway, with a fabulous husband and four beautiful children, including one set of twins.

Aside from the fabulous husband, that adult is almost the polar opposite of the adult I am now. I’m a writer, who works from my very small rented beach cottage, and of course, there are no children in my picture. And yet, once I stop to consider my friend’s question, I realize that I’m a lot happier as this adult than I would have been had my expectations been met. I’ve met the person I’d once dreamed of becoming; she wasn’t a very happy person and she definitely had more grey hairs than me.

I’m coming to the conclusion that half the battle of coming-to-terms with a life without children is letting go of our expectations—and creating new ones. This is never more true than during the holiday season, one of the most difficult times of the year to be childless.

When I think of my expectations of what Christmas should be like as an adult, those four children are always there, gathered around the tree, gathered around the dinner table, and then gathered around me as the day comes to a close. Even when I realized that children wouldn’t be part of my life, I still strived to make Christmas live up to my expectations. Consequently, Christmastime was very sad time for a number of years. I knew there was no way my expectations could be met, and eventually I stopped making an effort to celebrate.

The worst year was when my husband and I found ourselves sitting at home, with no Christmas tree, no plans, no celebration, and we knew we’d allowed our lack of children to take over our lives. We also realized it was time to set new, more realistic expectations.

When I took a step back and looked at what I really wanted for Christmas, not on the surface of gifts, family, and decorations, but on a deeper emotional level, I discovered that my spiritual wish list included love, peacefulness, companionship, and a good dose of silly fun. I needed to explore new ways to get what I really wanted.

It took a couple of false starts to find a new way to celebrate Christmas, but a couple of years ago we nailed it. Mr. Fab and I rented an apartment for three days in a nearby beach town. We celebrated on Christmas Eve with a lovely dinner at an historic hotel with an enormous Christmas tree, roving carolers, and even an outdoor ice rink (in Southern California!). On Christmas Day, instead of sitting at home feeling sad about a pathetic Christmas for two, we went to the zoo, like a couple of big kids, and had a whale of a time. I even got to feed a rhino and have an ice cream. We both agreed it was the best Christmas we’ve had for a long time, plus there were no tantrums or mountains of dirty dishes to deal with.

It’s hard to let go of our expectations, especially when they’re often so deeply engrained, but if you’re struggling to find your holiday cheer this year, I encourage you to look beneath the obvious losses and examine what’s really missing for you. Even if you can’t meet your tangible expectations of what the holidays should be, you might be surprised to find you can satisfy your true needs in unconventional—and unexpected—ways.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayMy mailbox is feeling bloated. No sooner did the election junk mail end than the holiday catalog avalanche began.

I’ll admit I do get a degree of pleasure trying to figure out how I got onto some of the more obscure mailing lists. But I also want to know why I get so much kid-oriented marketing material. Someone clearly has not been doing their demographic homework.

Which bring me to this week’s topic:

People who assume you have children

 It’s Whiny Wednesday. I deprived you last week, so feel free to air your post-Thanksgiving grievances, too.

Sharing Tips for Getting Through the Holidays

By Lisa Manterfield

thanksgivingThis week we celebrate Thanksgiving here in the U.S. and, for the first time in a long time, I am looking forward to it. We are bucking tradition this year and spending the day with good friends, including another childfree couple. Mr. Fab is cooking a decidedly nontraditional Thanksgiving dinner, so all I’ll have to do, aside from a few sous chef duties, is show up and have a good time.

I know for many of you, Thanksgiving might not be such a fun time. Traditionally, it’s a holiday when families gather, which might mean facing insensitive relatives and prying questions about children. It also marks the beginning of what can often be the most difficult time of the year, with social gatherings, kid-oriented activities, and constant reminders of the many ways we don’t get to celebrate the holidays.

I love that this community includes new readers and seasoned pros, so let’s help one another out this year by sharing ideas on getting through the season with our hearts intact.

What are some of the issues you know you’ll face this holiday season? What events are you dreading? What’s going to be hardest for you?

And perhaps most important of all, how to do plan to get through the season with minimum emotional damage?

For more tips, inspiration, and support, check out the Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, available now at Amazon.com.

An Interview with Childfree Children’s Book Author Ron Harner

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Books by Ron Harner

Books by Ron Harner

My nephews love Suck It Up, Tate!, one of three books for kids by Ron Harner. It is one of those books they beg me to read to them “Again! Again!” Clearly, Ron “gets” kids, so it may come as a surprise that he doesn’t have any of his own.

How many times have we heard “You wouldn’t understand, you’re not a parent” and felt our blood boil? The next time some unfeeling person slings this at you, remind them that Theodor Seuss Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss, didn’t have children of his own. Then tell them about Ron Harner. His story is below.

By the way, when Geisel was asked about not having kids, he responded, “You have ’em, I’ll entertain ’em!” Sounds like Ron is doing a bang-up job of this as well.

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Ron: Most definitely by chance. I was on track to be a father, and then my first marriage blew up unexpectedly and pretty spectacularly. I was reeling for a while. Having kids was the plan, but life doesn’t always stick to the plan.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Ron: Not having children is something I made peace with a while ago. That’s not to say I don’t get twinges occasionally, but, after my breakup, I didn’t go looking for a mother. I didn’t go looking for anybody. I met a girl in an elevator one day, and everything changed for the better. Kids weren’t in the cards for us. That was twelve years ago. I’m glad I didn’t take the stairs that day.

LWB: What was your inspiration for the first book/series?

Ron: I’m the youngest of five children. My brother and sisters all have a bunch of kids. One Thanksgiving, we were sitting around the table and my oldest sister said, “You write everything else, why don’t you write a children’s book?” And then she added, “…but not one that’s all sunshine and lollipops. I’d love to find a book in which the kid screws up and has to deal with it.”

So, I wrote one. It’s called Suck It Up, Tate! I’m fortunate to count a ridiculously talented Disney animator [Michael Surrey] among my friends, so I enlisted him to make it look great. I was able to publish that one, and then was asked to write two more.

LWB: Are readers surprised to learn you don’t have children?

Ron: Readers do seem surprised to discover I don’t have kids. But, like I mentioned, I have a brood of nieces and nephews who I adore. I spend as much time with them as I can, and they supply me with a ton of material.

I should note that I have a dog, Maggie, who I need as much as she needs me. People see the way I act with her, and that’s when I get the “How is it that you don’t have children?” question the most.

LWB: How gratifying is it to hear “My kid wants me to read it to him every night!”? Do you feel like you are making a difference in a kid’s life through your stories?

Ron: My aim was to write books that would appeal to kids and adults. The messages in these books are lessons my father gave me when I was young—not verbally; Dad wasn’t a big lecturer. He led by example. I took what stuck with me, added funny characters, and the stories just poured out.

I have to say it’s incredibly gratifying when I get a note from a parent who tells me one of the books has struck a chord with their child or that he or she shouts out the title at the right point of the story. Books played a big part of my life growing up, so that makes me smile.

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Ron: Most times I’m fine. There are times when I’d love to be able to be share some of the things I’m passionate about with someone just coming up in the world. I play my favorite records for my dog, but she seems underwhelmed.

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

Ron: I’m able to spend real quality time with my wife, doing the things we love to do together. Until just recently, when we got hitched, we were not tied together by anything other than the fact that we love being with each other. Plus, I can indulge all the creative stuff I like to do, including writing and performing sketch comedy with a great group of comedians I met at The Second City. That stuff is pretty liberating.

LWB: What’s the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?

Ron: The only advice I’d dare give anyone is to be truly honest with yourself. I’m insanely happy with my lot in life. Don’t do something just because someone expects you to, and don’t turn away from something that drives you just because it’s difficult.

LWB: Are more books coming?

Ron: Kids frequently ask me if I’m going to write a fourth book—they’ve even gone so far as to suggest new stories! Maybe I’ll reread the first three books after this interview. Who knows where the next good idea will come from?

 

Suck It Up, Tate!, Cool It, Frida!, and Move It, Milton! are available in hardcover and paperback at RonHarnerBooks.com. Paperbacks are available at Amazon and BarnesandNoble.com.

It Got Me Thinking…About Defending My Decisions

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

IGMTWhen I was growing up in the 1970s and early ’80s, “choice” referred to being able to have a legal, doctor-performed abortion for any reason. You were “pro-choice” or you were “pro-life,” and in some areas of our world, there is still no common ground.

So I’m finding it interesting that I’m now hearing about another choice for women, specifically whether or not we choose to have children. Recently Erin Tatum wrote “5 Things You Shouldn’t Say to Women Who Don’t Want Children” for Everyday Feminism magazine. Read the full article here. I am encouraged that this topic is getting some mainstream attention, that insensitive people are being educated. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that it doesn’t hurt any less when comments like the ones she lists are lobbed our direction. “You’ll regret it when you’re older” is #1 on her list, and whether you’re childfree by choice, circumstance, chance, or a combination, that one line has the potential to pour salt into new wounds and reopen old wounds.

Take a look at the article and let me know what else would be on your list of things that should never be said to a childfree woman. And in case you don’t feel like reading to the end, I want to be sure you see what she says in closing:

It can be difficult to defend your decisions when faced with so much ignorance, but always remind yourself that your life is your own and you don’t need anyone else’s validation to justify how you live it.

Embrace childfree living and start exploring all the opportunities that await you.

Yes!

 

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

Knowing Who I Am

By Lisa Manterfield

Lisa HeadshotThere was a time when I found it difficult to be around mothers of young children. It was hard to listen to them talk about their kids when I felt I had nothing to contribute, and it was painful to know that I’d never be able to share those experiences with them. I couldn’t bear to hear their sweet or funny stories, and it made my blood boil to hear them complain. What I wouldn’t have given for the chance to be kept awake all night by a colicky baby.

As I’ve progressed on my journey and begun to heal, it’s become easier for me to spend time with mothers, to listen to their stories, to speak up when I have something to add, and even to commiserate about the hard stuff, without feeling resentful.

I’m listening to what they say about motherhood and I’m hearing a common theme: Motherhood chips away at them until they lose touch with the women they once were. They love their children, they love being mothers, but they resent how all-consuming the job is and how much of themselves they lose to their families, until they know longer know who they are.

There are always two sides to every story, pros and cons, gains and losses. When we don’t get something we want and deserve, it’s easy to focus on what’s lost—the experiences, the opportunities, and the stories we won’t get to tell. But what about what’s gained? And what about what’s not lost? What about the sacrifices we didn’t have to make and the women we now get to be?

I may not be the woman I’d once hoped to be—a mother—but I know who I am now, and a part of me is grateful for what I didn’t have to lose: myself.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayTonight is Bonfire Night in the U.K. As a child, it was one of my favorite nights of the year, second only to Christmas Eve.

We’d have a bonfire in the backyard, and my dad would bring home a box of fireworks to set off and a couple of packets of sparklers. We’d have baked potatoes and roast chestnuts, and my mum would make parkin and gooey, delicious bonfire toffee. It was an evening spent outdoors, clustered around the fire. It was about friends and food and a little bit of danger.

It’s one of the many things I miss about my homeland, and it’s one of the traditions I would have enjoyed sharing with my children. And that’s the topic for this week’s Whiny Wednesday:

Traditions you won’t get to share with your children

Happy Bonfire Night and happy whining.