
This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is a tough one.
Baby names you never got to use
As always, you’re free to vent on your own topic, too.
filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is a tough one.
Baby names you never got to use
As always, you’re free to vent on your own topic, too.

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I love my gynecologist. She’s smart, she’s about my age, and like me, she’s childfree. So, yes, I believe she “gets” me.
That’s why it continues to gall me that her office still doesn’t “get” how devastating each of my visits are. I make a point of not making eye contact with anyone else in the waiting room. I don’t want to know—I don’t want the possibility of sensing—that the woman sitting across the room from me is in the full bloom of pregnancy. I also don’t want to know if the woman four seats over is falling apart because she’s about to get confirmation that another round of fertility treatments has failed to produce a longed-for baby. Honestly, I have enough on my plate just keeping my own emotions in check as I telepathically beg the nurse to call my name next.
And I’m pretty successful until I walk past the gatekeeper and enter the hallway where I’m once again faced with The Wall.
Technically, it’s one long wall with three bulletin boards overloaded with healthy baby and family photos. Hello, knife to the heart! There’s no avoiding it. It’s literally IN MY FACE as I make my way to the scale, then to the ladies’ room, then back into the hallway and to the exam room. I get one last look as I head out, and I typically manage to hold myself together as I ride down the elevator (sunglasses on, just in case), exit the building into the glaring sunlight, and all but crawl into my car where I let it all go.
Failure. Loser. Incomplete Woman. Freak of Nature. These are all the labels I give myself as I process my annual confrontation with The Wall.
With this being National Infertility Awareness Week, I wish my doctor and her staff could be more, well, aware. For the sign on their office does not read “Health Care for Mommies Only” or “Doctor of Pregnant and Breastfeeding Women”. It’s supposed to be an office that provides health care for all women. Although my reproductive system may have exceeded its best if used by date, I am still going in for my routine physical checkups, I continue to be a paying customer, and (dangit) I’d like to be represented on The Wall.
So, here are my suggestions:
I hope that I’ll see some changes on The Wall when I go in for my next checkup. But honestly, I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to look.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to suggest Whiny Wednesday topic ideas. Boy, did you deliver! So this week, I’m going to start posting some them. Let’s kick off with this one:
Running into old friends who now have children
Whine away!

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Nora endured devastating abuse from her parents and from a former husband. With such dysfunction in her world, becoming a mother wasn’t something she dreamed about. Then she discovered she was pregnant. “I wanted to keep the baby very much,” she says, “but the situation was too dire.” So she made the heartbreaking decision to end the pregnancy.
With the help of therapy and work in creative fields, she has survived her youth and has healed herself “to the point of being able to live in a loving relationship” with a wonderful fiancé. “I can finally do something productive with my life,” she writes, yet at the same time, feelings of doubt and failure pop up as she wrestles with the results of her choices (oh, how I hate that word).
I hope you’ll offer her words of compassion and encouragement in the Comments, especially if you can relate to her story and have escaped an abusive situation yourself.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Nora: I honestly never pictured myself as a mother. The whole idea felt too foreign to me, as I came from a religious family that was profoundly dysfunctional and had no internalized positive image of motherhood. I came to terms with the reality of being an orphan after I disowned my abusive parents and cut contact with my younger siblings who were my only other relatives. I started therapy as early as I could, driven also by the fear that if I didn’t arrive at a point of healing soon enough, I might be too old to create a loving family of my own when that day finally arrived. I have found this to be common among victims of child abuse.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
Nora: Circumstance. I believe if I had had a semi-functional family background, I would have made better relationship choices in my 20s and I´d feel encouraged to plan for a family with my fiancé now.
I had an abortion at 27 when I unfortunately became the victim of a serial fraudster, a foreigner who married me and then took all my money. This man took advantage of my profound longing for family and for love. I wanted to keep the baby very much, but the situation was too dire. He was threatening me, and I was in danger of developing serious STDs, which could have affected the child, too. It all happened so fast.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
Nora: Sometimes I think about that abortion, that somehow I “could have made it”, living in a shelter house, alone in a foreign country. But then I come back to my senses and realize it was the best decision. I would never want to bring a child into the mess I grew up in. The possibility of having a family is fading in front of my eyes when I realize that nothing is going to happen unless I put substantial effort into creating a suitable environment for a child—and I feel too hollow and tired to pursue it. I never really expected to become a mother, so it doesn’t surprise me. It just feels of empty and out of reach for me.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Nora: When I moved in with my fiancé, into his one bedroom apartment, it finally dawned to me that it’s never going to happen. He is a bachelor, 10 years older, and looking forward to his military pension. But I think we both find the fantasy somewhat comforting, that we “still can change our minds.”
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Nora: Feeling like a failure, like I am not “good enough”, normal, natural, whatever. But I guess it’s cruel to measure oneself against other people’s standards. None of them has walked in my boots.
LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?
Nora: Somebody related the question of motherhood to a form of immortality, and said it is viable through creating children or something else of lasting value, like art.
LWB: What’s your Plan B?
Nora: I want to become a writer and documentarist. I find art and writing very fulfilling, but also it asks for your full being to be present. Sometimes I feel I have already given up some of that creativity by entering a close relationship, but I don’t regret that. I love my fiancé, and I can picture living a happy life together.
What is your Plan B? Or are your wounds so raw that you can’t even imagine a happy future? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.
Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.

This hot-button whine was sent in from one of our readers.
When you read an interview of some celebrity or hear someone say:
“I never knew what love was until I had a child.”
So…is she saying that because I’m childfree I’m not capable or “real” love, or because I’m childfree I will be denied the experience of the highest expression of love?
Whether this makes your blood boil or cuts you to the core, whine away, sisters!
And if you have another great whine you need to get off your chest this week, here’s the place to let it rip.

By Lisa Manterfield
We talk a lot in this community about the power of telling our stories, of hearing other people’s stories, and of having our voices heard in a world that doesn’t want to talk about uncomfortable topics like infertility, loss, and childlessness.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of talking to Cathy Broadwell on her wonderful new podcast “Slow Swimmers and Fried Eggs.” Cathy has been writing a blog by the same title for some time now and recently convinced her boss to fund a podcast. What’s so powerful about the work Cathy is doing is that she writes in partnership with her husband, and their blog is hosted on the website of a fertility hospital.
Not so long ago, it was almost unheard of for an infertility blog to even entertain the idea that the infertility journey could end without children. I remember discovering a forum for “Life After Infertility” on one well-known resource’s site, only to realize it was full of discussions about teething and the best kind of baby stroller to buy. Another popular blogger, who went on to have children, continued to serve the infertility community, but managed to alienate all her readers who had “given up” on having children. Cathy’s blog marks a BIG step forward for our community, a step towards inclusion and genuine, frank conversations about the realities of infertility.
You can hear my conversation with Cathy in the latest episode of her podcast, here.
Be sure to also check out her earlier conversations with Sarah Chamberlain of Infertility Honesty and our own Kathleen Guthrie Woods.
And a big thank you to Cathy for having the courage to help shatter the stigma.

Some people assume that if you don’t have children you have nothing but time. Nowhere you have to be, no responsibilities, and certainly nothing important to get home for.
Which brings us to this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic:
Being taken advantage of at work because you don’t have kids
And, go…

Have you ever been in a conversation with a group of women, only to watch the talk turn to motherhood and feel yourself fading into the background?
That’s the topic of this week’s Whiny Wednesday:
Being excluded from conversations because you don’t have children
Happy Whining!

Seven years ago, when I started this blog, I was a desolate mess. I’d made plans to build my dream life and, bit by bit, those plans were crumbling beyond my control.
I’d quit my corporate job to become a writer. My plan was to make a living writing articles for magazines, which would allow me time to write my novel. Then, when my children were born, I’d be able to work from home and be there to take care of them. It was a perfect scenario.
Except, the children didn’t come and magazines started to go out of business and my novel wouldn’t sell. My dream quickly began to fall apart. I felt alone, despite being surrounded by people who loved me, and my life felt hopeless and utterly out of control.
And once things fell apart, it seemed like so many areas of my life suffered too. I felt challenged in my career, finances, marriage, health, family, all while trying to navigate grief. I had already hit my rock bottom when I decided to start this blog. It was a first step in starting my climb back up.
All of us hit our rock bottom at some point and each of us has to make our own way back to the surface. I hope this site and this community have served as a small step up for you.
So today, I’d like to share some stories of other women from our community. I met most of them through their blogs, when they were already on their way back up from their lowest points. These women have incredible success stories, but I know that, at some point, they each felt out of control and hopeless. They suffered through depression, failed marriages, health crises, and deep grief. I hope that sharing their successes will inspire you to keep moving forward and keep believing that things will get better.
Last week, Jody Day presented her first TED talk, “The Lost Tribe of Childless Women”. She has become a powerful advocate for women aging without children.
Melanie Notkin of has also done TED talk and has shone a new light on “Otherhood” and the value of childless aunts.
Tomorrow, Tracey Cleantis launches her second book, An Invitation to Self-Care, hot on the success of her infertility-based debut book The Next Happy.
Also preparing to launch her second book, The Mother of Second Chances, Justine Froelker is coordinating a tour of 21 infertility blogs leading up to National Infertility Awareness Week.
Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos was the first blogger I found when I started to reach out for my tribe. She is continuing to blaze trails with investigative journalism and advocacy work around the fertility industry.
Lesley Pyne is hard at work on a book that has come from her wonderful world coaching women through grief after infertility. I hope to share news on that later this year.
And our own Kathleen Guthrie Woods is in the revision of her story, The Mother of All Dilemmas, early drafts of which I have been privileged to read. More to come on this soon, too.
As for me, I’m doing all right. My plans are working out too, even if not quite as I’d first envisioned them. Tomorrow, my debut novel, A Strange Companion (the one that couldn’t get a sniff) will be published. I am enjoying a relationship with Mr. Fab’s grandchildren, something that would have been too hard to navigate seven years ago. And, I never believed I would say this, I’m happy. My life is good.
Today, my rock bottom feels a long way behind me. I hope that yours will someday, too.

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“I think I have not yet healed as much as I would like,” Janey wrote to me in her cover letter. She first filled out our questionnaire for this column in early 2015, just a year after she ended her 17-year-long IVF journey—one that included six unsuccessful IVF cycles, a miracle natural pregnancy and heartbreaking miscarriage, and an ectopic pregnancy with a donor egg that required emergency surgery. I wept as I read “A lifetime of longing and waiting was literally ripped from us in under an hour.”
This past November she turned 48, the cut-off age for possible treatment with donor eggs and the final “no” to any possible miracles. With her wounds still so very raw, she decided to send in her story. “I would so love not to feel a tightening in my throat when others make announcements or speak of their pregnancy/toddlers,” she wrote. “I hope sharing my story helps others and me in finally letting it all go.”
That’s my hope, as well.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Janey: I’ve wanted my own baby as long as I can remember. I recall being envious of my older cousin when she was pregnant with her first; I was about eight. I asked my mum constantly to have a younger brother or sister. I dreamed of watching a child grow, nurturing, going to the park, cooking for him/her, and just wanting them to grow up balanced, loved, and feeling important and happy.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now? (for example: still in denial, angry, hoping for a miracle, depressed, crawling toward acceptance, embracing Plan B)
Janey: Crawling toward acceptance. I still feel all the other emotions on a daily basis and cannot quite believe a lifetime of yearning and waiting has ended this way.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Janey: After 17 years, being told I needed an operation to check out my remaining tube. I felt sick at the prospect of more treatment that would still only offer a slim chance of success. I think I lost my faith that day, and I could no longer hide behind “any statistic however low was better than no chance”. That pain was rock bottom for me and my husband, for we cannot knowingly go further into that desperately sad place that we have been so many times before. Then, when I told my husband the clinic had called to offer us another donor, I saw hope dance across his face momentarily, instantly followed by a darkness that drained him of all his colour. I saw a physical shadow cast across his features, one of anger, sadness, and terror. This is what I recall whenever I feel weak.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Janey: Not having the day-to-day joy/struggle that is part of everyone’s life. No first words, school days, birthday parties. The pride as they grow in life and leave school, get work, meet partners. I can recall the pride I see in my mum when she talks of me or my brother. I broke down recently when she was at the hospital with her hip replacement and was asked, “Who do we call if you have a problem?” Answer, “My daughter, Jane.” I will never have that, not ever.
LWB: What’s one thing you want other people to know about your being childfree?
Janey: That it was not a choice, I am not free. I deal daily with the disease of infertility and the sadness of not ever being able to hold and nurture my own child. I constantly put my feelings aside and congratulate others, and I would love for the fertile world to acknowledge the devastation of infertility and the lasting impact.
LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”
Janey: “No. Life has not gone to plan on that front, and I’m unbelievably sad about it.” By the time I got to being able to respond this way, I realized I was too old for people to ask; they generally assume I have them and they have left home by now. It feels easier to leave it that way. I think I said it once to someone, and they were momentarily understanding. It felt liberating at the time and a step forward towards acceptance.
LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?
Janey: Finally seeing that my feelings over all these years are normal. I have experienced so much jealousy and anger at the world, and it was wonderful to have that validated and not to keep forcing myself to face people or situations that leave me drained. LWB has allowed me to feel quite a lot of pride in myself for getting out of bed and going to work and finding the good in myself. This is not all there is to me. I am whole and I am enough.
Where are you on your journey? Are your wounds raw? Have you made some progress toward accepting a life without children? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.
Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.

~ "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."
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