filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Next Monday is Halloween, which for many of us means streams of cute children knocking on our front doors.
Love it or hate it; it’s hard to avoid it. So the discussion topic for this week is:
How do you handle this difficult holiday?
As it’s Whiny Wednesday, there’s room for your gripes here, too.
By Lisa Manterfield
When I first realized I wasn’t going to be able to have children, I had no idea where to turn. Online searches for “infertility” only turned up more sites and books with miracle cures to help get me pregnant. Googling “childless support” almost always turned up groups and books celebrating being childfree-by-choice. There was some help out there, but often it was buried several pages back.
Ten years later, there is more support for people who find themselves childless-not-by-choice, but often that information is hard to find. So, today, I’d like to ask for your help in helping others.
If you’ve read books on the topics of infertility and being childless not by choice, and especially if you’ve found those books valuable, please consider writing a short review on Amazon.
The reason Amazon reviews are so important is that Amazon isn’t just a bookstore, it’s a huge search engine, enabling someone searching online for help to find the handful of books out there. Reviews of books on our topic help to push them up the rankings to make them more likely to pop up on the first page of a search. Reviews also let potential readers know that the book is trusted by others.
So I’d like to ask you now to take a few moments to help others find help and support. If you’ve read my books or if you’ve read books by Pamela, Jody, Justine, Jessica, Tracey, Melanie, or any other authors, please consider leaving a short review. (And if I’ve missed any books or authors, please add them in the comments.)
If you’ve never written a book review before, don’t worry. You don’t need to write more than a couple of sentences. Here are some examples borrowed from actual reviews:
“This book captured the many emotions of dealing with an infertility diagnosis and facing a life without children.”
“After learning I would not be able to have children, I found this book. It was like reading my own story.”
“This is an awesome book. I’ve been through the same challenges, concerns, worries, emotions, and could relate to the author’s journey.”
“I couldn’t put it down. I laughed, cried, laughed, and cried some more. A must read.”
“The author’s story is so similar to mine that I empathized with every word.”
“I really appreciated her sense of humor on this serious topic.”
“A must read for anyone struggling with infertility, the ethics of medical procedures, whether to adopt, etc.”
“Great read if you’ve gone through the struggles of trying to have a child.”
Below are links to my books, and the others I mentioned above. If you do write a review, please let know so I can say a huge and heartfelt thank you.
Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen by Lisa Manterfield (Steel Rose Press, 2016)
I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood by Lisa Manterfield (Steel Rose Press, 2010)
Life Without Baby Workbooks by Lisa Manterfield:
Workbook 1: Letting Go of the Dream of Motherhood
Workbook 2: Getting Through the Grief of Childlessness
Workbook 3: Dealing With the Day-to-Day Challenges
Workbook 4: Thriving in a New Happily Ever After
Silent Sorority: A Barren Woman Gets Busy, Angry, Lost and Found by Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos (BookSurge Publishing, 2009)
Living the Life Unexpected: 12 Weeks to Your Plan B for a Meaningful and Fulfilling Future Without Children by Jody Day (CreateSpace, 2013)
The Next Happy: Let Go of the Life You Planned and Find a New Way Forward by Tracey Cleantis (Hazelden, 2015)
Ever Upward: Overcoming the Lifelong Losses of Infertility by Justine Froelker (Morgan James, Publishing, 2014)
The Pursuit of Motherhood by Jessica Hepburn (Matador, 2014)
Otherhood: Modern Women Finding a New Kind of Happiness by Melanie Notkin (Seal Press, 2014)
Avalanche: A Love Story by Julia Leigh (W. W. Norton & Company, 2016)
Resurrection Year: Turning Broken Dreams Into New Beginnings by Sheridan Voysey (Thomas Nelson, 2013)
Finally, a big thank you to Cathy at Slow Swimmers and Fried Eggs, who did a really nice write-up for I‘m Taking My Eggs and Going Home last week, and reminded her readers (and me) of the importance of reviewing books on this topic.
This week’s suggested Whiny Wednesday topic is thought-provoking:
Fearing the quiet we will have for years
How do you feel about this? Is it something you worry about? If not, what is on your mind this week?
By Lisa Manterfield
I’ve been writing and talking a lot about grief lately—here on the blog, in my fiction, in my personal life, in the novels I’m reading, and for the Life Without Baby book that came out earlier this year. Even when I got chatting to a stranger on a plane, the conversation turned to the topic of grief.
Over paper cups of tea, this woman—who had lost her brother to suicide—and I talked about how grief stays with us long after we’re “over it”, how the shape of grief changes with time, how it can change us, and how everyone carries around their own personal grief.
My only regret in the discussion is that it didn’t begin sooner on our journey, because I would have liked to hear more about what she had to say on the subject. But eventually we parted ways, she to her office and I to catch another flight, and I didn’t have the opportunity to ask her more about her grief.
So, I’d like to ask you instead.
As a society, I don’t believe the topic of grief gets enough attention. We’re uncomfortable with grieving people, no matter what type of loss they’ve suffered, but it’s especially true when the loss isn’t understood.
So let’s start the conversation now. Let’s talk about this grief. I’d love to hear what you have to say.
By Lisa Manterfield
One of the big changes I’ve seen since starting this site is that the topics of infertility and childlessness are being brought out from behind closed doors and are being discussed in more public forums.
Whereas once I felt as if I was the only person talking openly about this, I’ve since found an incredible network of fellow bloggers and authors writing very intimately about their stories. I’ve also received several requests to complete surveys from researchers who are exploring the effects and issues of unplanned childlessness.
In your corner of the world, you may still be feeling that NO ONE is talking about this, that no one understands what you’re going through, and even your closest confidants don’t want to talk about it. Sadly, I think this is still true for most of us. But the tide is turning, and the more we talk about this topic and the more we venture out and start these conversations, the less taboo it will become.
Even if you’re not ready (or feel as if you will never be ready) to start your own campaign for understanding, you’re already part of this quiet revolution. You’re here, you’re talking about your experience with others, you’re sharing comfort and encouraging other readers. Even if you’re doing all of this anonymously and even if you’re coming here in secret to contribute to these conversations, you are part of the change that’s coming.
This issue is never going to go away, in fact I believe that our segment of the population will only continue to grow (but that’s another post for another day), but perhaps in the future, our sisters who need help will be able to pick up a leaflet from their doctors or walk into a local support group or sit down with a friend over coffee and feel comfortable talking openly about what it feels to not to have the children you wanted.
Thanks for not rebelling after last week’s missing Whiny Wednesday post. This week’s topic is for those of you who arrived here via the infertility route.
Do you feel you were left hanging by the fertility industry?
Okay, I know that’s a loaded question, so if you don’t feel like jumping in on this topic, or if it doesn’t apply to you, feel free to bring your own whine to the party this week.
By Lisa Manterfield
There 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.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Shortly after I sent out save the date cards for our wedding, I received several variations of “Didn’t know you were pregnant – har har!”
I didn’t finding this the least bit humorous, although I’m sure that is what those Jim Carrey–¬wannabes had intended. My fiancé and I had been together for four years, living together for two. We were getting married because we wanted to, not because we had to. And so what if I was pregnant? Would it make this occasion, our commitment to each other, any less solemn?
Of course, because I had finally (mostly) made peace with our decision to be childfree, our friends’ insensitive responses struck a deeper, more painful chord. What I really wanted to do was reply back by saying, “No. Sadly, pregnancy is no longer an option for me.”
But that would have been rude.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She met and married her Mr. Right in her 40s.
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Jessica and her husband John are childfree “by chance and then choice(?),” the parenthetical question mark indicating her struggle to make peace with that word: choice. After six of years of trying to get pregnant, they tried IVF, “but it failed,” she says. “We were told with my diminished ovarian reserve there was really no chance of IVF working without an egg donor.” It was at that point they decided not to pursue any more fertility treatments or adoption.
What a heartbreaking “choice”—one so many of us can relate to.
Today, Jessica is traveling through the acceptance phase of her journey, working on embracing her family of two, and hoping “to feel joyful again.” That’s our hope for her too.
Here’s more of her story.
LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood:
Jessica: I always pictured a little boy, who looks just like John, looking up at me with his sweet face. I had names picked out for our two girls, but we never could decide on a name for our boy. I prayed, often, for the wisdom to teach our girls to truly know their value, because so many girls grow into women not realizing how much they are worth. I couldn’t wait to see John as a dad, interacting with our kids, with his sweet, gentle spirit.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Jessica: After our failed IVF, I was grieving. I did not understand all of the emotions I was having. I spent a lot of time talking and thinking about what was next and finally realized I was simply tired. I was tired of our life being on hold, of the emotional roller coaster each month, of feeling isolated and alone. I decided to go to an infertility support group to see if it could help me process everything. In that meeting, while each person talked about where they were on their journey to have a child, I realized I was done. Our life had been on hold for two-thirds of our marriage, waiting to get pregnant. I was barely making it out of bed half of the time. When it came to be my turn, I said how I was feeling, and the leader said she knew a couple who had chosen not to pursue any more fertility treatments nor to adopt. She said they were living “childfree” and living it well. That put all of the pieces in place for me. I had not heard anyone ever talk about choosing that path. It took several weeks for me to process this thought. I met with the lady of the couple to talk about her journey. I googled to see if I could find other women who had also chosen this path. (I am so grateful for all the woman who share their stories online!) John and I talked about it and finally decided that we also wanted to start accepting our life without kids. It was such a mixture of sadness and relief to finally make that decision!
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Jessica: Finding a purpose in this world as a woman without kids. Also not being able to see my mom and dad with our kids.
LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?
Jessica: You are not alone, even if it feels like it. It is hard to find someone who truly understands the emotions that you are having, but it is worth trying to find that someone who has gone through a similar struggle. And only you can say how far and how long you go trying to have a baby, even though most people will have an opinion on it.
LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?
Jessica: I bought Lisa’s book Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen when it came out. The timing was perfect, as I had really just come to the decision to accept our life without kids. Probably the main thing I got out of it right away was how much of what I was feeling was normal and okay. I felt a lot of pressure to go to both my sisters-in-law’s baby showers and to go to the hospital when my niece and nephew were born. This was right after our failed IVF. It was tough, so tough. Lisa talks about preparing for social events in her book, which helped me realize that it is okay to have good days and bad days. It is okay to opt out of a family event or a social event if I think it could be a trigger. And the biggest one was about Mother’s Day. It was so freeing to take control and have a plan to honor my mom while navigating around the day. Reading the book also confirmed to me that I was on the right path.
The LWB blog is great too. I am very thankful that something is posted pretty much every day, because it reminds me I am not alone!
In her email to me, Jessica wrote, “Answering these questions was helpful in reflecting on our journey, where we’ve been, and where we might be going.” I would love for you to experience the healing that can come from sharing your story with all of us at LWB. If you feel ready, go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.
If you’re not quite ready for this step, I encourage you to check out the Community Forums and other Our Stories, where you will find understanding and support from LWB readers who have traveled paths similar to yours.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Back-to-school season is upon us and social media has been abuzz with snapshots of proud parents and their offspring. So it seems like a good time for this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic:
Feeling left out when friends and relatives celebrate the milestones of being parents and grandparents.
As always, your other whines are always welcome.
~ "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."
