Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: Small Talk

During August, as I enjoy some travel time, I’m sharing some of my favorite and your favorite posts from the past year. I’ll look forward to seeing you again in September. ~Lisa  

Today’s post was originally run on  9/26/12

Whiny_WednesdayYesterday I accompanied my friend as she underwent a very unpleasant test for a big, scary health issue. My friend is a lot like me: she has no children and her family is many miles away. No one should go through something like this alone, so I volunteered to be, what she good-naturedly called, her “Biopsy Buddy.”

I’m sure the medical center staff has been highly trained in putting nervous patients at ease, and the nurse who prepped my friend for her procedure did a good job of making safe small-talk. Unfortunately, she latched onto the topic of Halloween, her big plans to go to Disneyland for the evening, and the problems of trying to find a Halloween costume to fit a 7-year-old with extra-long legs. If she was looking to get a conversation started to ease the tension, she picked the wrong, darn subject.

I don’t blame her for going with what she assumed to be a safe bet. I just wish the topic of children wasn’t always the go-to conversation starter.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What do you wish was different today?

Locked Out of the Mommy Clubhouse

During August, as I enjoy some travel time, I’m sharing some of my favorite and your favorite posts from the past year. I’ll look forward to seeing you again in September. ~Lisa 

Today’s post was originally run on 7/5/12

 

lockBy Maybe Lady Liz

Last week, I texted one of my girlfriends, trying to throw together a last minute Sunday night dinner with her and her husband. When she responded that they already had dinner plans with two of our other friends, but that we were “welcome to tag along”, I was a little taken aback. I couldn’t imagine why we hadn’t been included in the first place, until later that night when I saw some inside joke exchanges on Facebook about chromosomes. My girlfriend was newly pregnant, and I realized she’d reached out to the other pregnant woman in our group, because she wanted to spend time with someone who was going through the same experience.

It was my first glimpse of being locked out of the Mommy Clubhouse. Up until now, it had always been the other way around. My group was still very active, going out every weekend, and the first person to get pregnant in our group had been the one left at home. Now that more and more of them are starting to have babies, I’m realizing that my husband and I may be the ones left home alone while everyone else attends each other’s kids’ birthday parties, mommy yoga classes or family-friendly barbeques.

Parents seem to have this glamorized picture of the Childfree as partying every weekend night till the wee hours of the morning and then sleeping off our hangovers all day long on Sunday. Admittedly, part of the reason they have this image is because it’s the one being loudly and proudly portrayed on the Childfree blogs and forums. But that’s not really what I’m after. All I want is to be able to spend time with my friends. If that means tame dinners in, or board game nights in lieu of clubbing, I’m all for it. It just hadn’t occurred to me until last week that we might be excluded because they think we don’t want to give up the bar scene. Or worse, that we no longer fit in.

I don’t begrudge my friends the lack of an invite to their dinner. They’re sharing a life-altering experience together and some bonding is bound to take place that we can’t really participate in. And of course, it’s only natural that certain members of a group have smaller gatherings from time to time – everyone can’t be invited to everything. What scared me was not knowing if this was a one-off, or just the tip of the lonely weekend iceberg.

Maybe Lady Liz is blogging her way through the decision of whether to create her own Cheerio-encrusted ankle-biters, or remain Childfree. You can follow her through the ups and downs at http://www.MaybeBabyMaybeNot.com.

It Got Me Thinking…About Why I Can’t Grieve

During August, as I enjoy some travel time, I’m sharing some of my favorite and your favorite posts from the past year. I’ll look forward to seeing you again in September. ~Lisa  

Today’s post was originally run on 10/9/12

 

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

It’s impossible to put on mascara when you can’t stop crying.

I learned this little truism the day after we put our sweet 14-year-old dog to sleep. I’d spent the day intermittently sobbing and whimpering—set off by her empty bowl, her favorite spot in my office, now vacant, and tiny reminders of my everyday companion. I had pushed off most work-related tasks, but still had to pull myself together for an evening event I needed to attend. With a lot of deep breathing, as well as promises to myself that I could continue crying my eyes out later, I managed to make myself presentable.

I’m not new to devastating losses. Almost daily, I still think of the best friend who died tragically when she was just 20, my beloved grandmother and “hot date” for movies who passed in 1993, and my father-in-law who left us 914 days ago. But the outpouring of emotions I experienced after losing Scout was a new breed of grief. Guilt, gratitude, longing, regret, relief, loneliness, heartache. At times it consumed me, as, I think, it should. And that got me thinking….

As a woman who is childfree by circumstances, I have never fully grieved the loss of my dream of motherhood. For 25 years or so, I’ve been in this crazy dance between longing and hoping, praying and wishing, denial, regret, jealousy, despair, having faith and losing faith. I used to beg God for a neon sign—seriously—a message so clear that said either “You will have children, so stick it out!” or “You aren’t going to have children. Get on with your life!” And the years went by. And the years went by. And here I am. I am 46 years old, childfree by circumstance (don’t you dare accuse me of making a “choice”), and I describe myself as “mostly at peace” with my status. But there are days when I still think “What if….”

I won’t trivialize the pain of our sisters who are childfree by infertility. I’ve held too many friends and sobbed with them over miscarriages, failed IVF treatments, and the loss of their dreams, and I know too well that their paths are filled with heartbreak. But because LWB is a place where we can safely share our deepest hurts, please allow me to say that there are times when I’ve envied their ability to grieve. My friends had defining moments when they could let it all out, when they could ask for support, when support was offered even when it was not asked for. Think of my journey like the quiet drip-drip of a faucet; it’s imperceptible, so no one calls in the plumber, but over time it causes the same amount of catastrophic damage as a flood. I have never had a moment of finality, never experienced that intense period of grief, and on some very deep and possibly damaged level, I wish I could.

Selfish? Perhaps. But hear me out. I know that grieving is necessary. The sobbing period winds down, you put your experiences into perspective, and then you move on. For I so would like to be able to move on. I want to embrace this path I’ve been given and find new purpose in my life. I’d like to feel that the wanderings of my childbearing years were not just wasted time. And I fear that, if I skip past the crucial grieving phase, I’ll never get to the phase of accepting and, ultimately, to that day when I can feel content with my circumstances.

P.S. Grief is a topic we’re addressing head-on here at LWB. If you are feeling stuck, consider signing up for the upcoming LWB Mentoring Program that starts this evening. You’ll find more information here.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s wrapping up a memoir about her journey to coming to peace with being childfree (and clearly it’s a work in progress).

Whiny Wednesday: Skunks

During August, as I enjoy some travel time, I’m sharing some of my favorite and your favorite posts from the past year. I’ll look forward to seeing you again in September. ~Lisa 

Today’s post was originally run on 6/13/12

Whiny_WednesdayWe have a skunk family living under the house behind us. It’s so fun to watch them scrabbling around in the garden with their little tails stuck in the air, all attitude. I’m not foolish enough to get close, but from a distant, they’re terribly cute…

…until they dug up my vegetable garden.

I came out the other day to find my pepper plants all felled, my tomatoes tunneled under, and skunk-sized holes among my Swiss chard. There was dirt and seedlings flung far and wide. 

Trying to maintain a good attitude, I am grateful that I even have a garden in my urban environment, and that there are critters that get to share this space. But, as it’s Whiny Wednesday, I’m dropping the Pollyanna act for today. Grrr.

What are you muttering about between gritted teeth today?

New “Finding Peace” Mentorship Program Starts May 21st

Japanese Tearoom 2A new session of the “Finding Peace” Mentorship Program begins May 21st. This is the third session of this program and past participants have found incredible support through working with an intimate group of peers and having a safe space to discuss issues that most of our friends and family can’t even begin to understand.

Registration is open now and you can take advantage of early bird pricing by signing up by next Friday, May 17th.

Over the eight weeks of the program, you will:

  • Acknowledge your loss and learn techniques to deal with grief
  • Create ways to work through, not avoid, emotions
  • Gain tools to deal with issues of family, friends, coworkers, and even strangers
  • Find a way to move through this difficult transition and into a new and fulfilling life, even it’s one that doesn’t include children
  • Meet other women who understand you and get ongoing support from a sympathetic group of peers in a safe and protected environment
  • Be guided by a compassionate mentor who’s already walked plenty of miles in your shoes and speaks your language (that’s me!)

You might be surprised to learn that we even find room for laughter in these workshop and support sessions. It’s one of the many perks of sharing even the most difficult experience with people who’ve been there, too.

You can find all the details and registration information here.

Mother’s Day

heart-pixabayNext Sunday is Mother’s Day, the day that used to be all about showing appreciation to one’s own mother, but which has now become a giant mom-fest, celebrating the glory of motherhood for all mothers, and everyone’s supposed to get on board.

Well, not me. And not because I’m a bitter, jaded, non-mom, either!

Even before I had any clue that I would never become a much-lauded mother, I thought this universal celebration of motherhood was odd, kind of like celebrating a loved one’s birthday by saying “Happy Birthday!” to every stranger on the street. Surely the point of Mother’s Day was to acknowledge my mum, thank her for being a good mother, and treat her to something she’d appreciate? (Such as three bags of compost, delivered to her back garden, which is what she prefers over flowers that eventually die; she’s such the pragmatist.)

During the “infertility years” Mother’s Day was a nightmare. It felt like, for an entire month, the world was making a point of highlighting what I didn’t have, who I wasn’t, and what I would never be. When people wished me a happy Mother’s Day I wouldn’t know what to say. I’d just stare at them open mouthed, while in my head I was thinking, “Happy? What’s to be happy about? You have no idea the hurt and sadness you’ve inadvertently caused me and I have no way to make you understand.”

I think the low point of that period had to be the year Mr. Fab and I unwittingly tumbled out of bed and shuffled around the corner for breakfast at our local cafe. The servers were handing out roses to all the mothers there. When our server asked me if we had children, I shook my head. “Oh,” she said, and walked away with my rose. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so utterly desolate and ostracized in my life. After that episode, we made a point of only eating at home on Mother’s Day.

I know I’m lucky that I get to avoid all the hoopla because my mother and siblings live in a country that celebrates in a different month. I also know that many of you will be forced to go out to family events and celebrations, and put on a big smile, because the day is “about mom, not about you.”

If you need a little moral support and a plan of action to face next Sunday, please take a look at the Dealing With Social Landmines eBook. You’ll see it there on the right-hand sidebar or you can download it here.

If you’re struggling with moving on, or if you feel the need to commune with other non-moms this week, please join me tomorrow for a free video workshop, Letting Go of the Dream of Motherhood. I’ll be tackling the subject of knowing when to let go, and taking the first steps. You’ll also have the opportunity to chat with me, ask questions, and meet fellow blog readers. Even if you can’t make it live, the workshop recording will be sent out the following day so you can watch on your own time.

For now, I wish you strength this week and hope you’ll make certain to be good to yourself, too.

Whiny Wednesday: Equality

Whiny_WednesdayI don’t usually get political on this blog, but the recent Marriage Equality discussions have been pushing my buttons. I am strongly pro-gay marriage and am often dumbfounded by the arguments cited by opponents.

 

One morning last week, I heard someone on the radio saying (and I’m paraphrasing) that the constitution supported equality for like situations, and gay marriage and heterosexual marriage could never be equal because of the inability for gay couples to reproduce.

 

This pushes two of my buttons:

 

1)   As part of a straight couple who cannot reproduce, I take extreme exception to this suggestion that a marriage is only acceptable when it produces children.

2)   I know several gay couples who have reproduced via sperm donor, surrogate, or adoption. Is this person then suggesting that any marriage—gay or straight—that doesn’t produce children “naturally” falls into the category of unacceptable? Surely not.

 

It’s Whiny Wednesday. I’m on fire this week. What’s pushing your buttons?

Fertility Planit Show Report

Fertility PlanitLast weekend, I was at the Fertility Planit Show, speaking on a panel about Letting Go. I wrote about my trepidation in a post last month and so many of you were incredibly supportive that I thought I ought to report in on my experience.

As anticipated, it was very strange for me to be at the show. I walked around the exhibition hall glancing sideways at the booths for everything from adoption agencies to cryogenic storage facilities to banks offering IVF loans. I spotted a few organizations whose paths I’d crossed on my own journey, including one of my former doctors, who apparently had no recognition of me (probably because he’d spent little time looking at my face, if you know what I mean.) I’ll admit that my pulse quickened and my chest tightened as I walked around. I didn’t feel any pull to get back into the fertility game or any tempting new possibilities, but I could feel some of those old, anxious, emotions creeping back in.

The panel itself was great. About 50-100 people sat in the room and I’m told another 22,000 watched online! Attendees asked lots of questions and I was glad I had answers to many of them.

The hardest part for me was looking out at people in the audience who I knew were coming to the end of their infertility ropes. I could feel they were in so much pain and it was incredibly courageous of them to come and listen to this panel on a topic I know they didn’t really want to face. Part of me wanted to climb down off the stage and just hug them and the other part wanted to kick the world in the kneecaps and scream that these perfectly nice people didn’t deserve this. But I didn’t do either of those things. I sat on the stage, told my story, and answered as many questions as I could.

The upshot of the whole experience is that I’m very glad I accepted the invitation to speak. It was ultimately very rewarding to speak from a place of peace and healing.

As an added bonus, I got to meet two incredible women, Melanie Notkin and Tracy Cleantis, who I’ve known for some time through the blogosphere. I also made connections with some wonderfully compassionate therapists, who specialize in this area. More about this aspect coming soon.

The show is coming back to LA next year and you can bet I’m adding plenty of suggestions to my speaker survey of more ways to bring this crucial topic out into the open.

If you’d like to see the panel discussion, it’s available to download on the Fertility Planit site or you can view below.

Video streaming by Ustream

Thank you all again for being so supportive and encouraging on this new step in my journey.

…In With the New!

WelcomeHappy New Year!

Welcome back. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season.

As you can see, a few things have changed around here over the past couple of weeks, and today I am very pleased and proud to unveil the brand new site, or Life Without Baby 2.0, as I’ve been calling it.

If you’ve been hanging with me on the old blog for a while, don’t worry, you’ll find all the old posts and all your old friends still here. If you’re used to finding yourself over on the community site, that’s here too, with everything as it was.

You’ll also find some new features, such as a resource library of useful information (Learn) and some new programs that will be coming up this year (Get Help).

Some things are still works-in-progress and I’ll be gathering new information and adding it as I go. For example, I want to include a more comprehensive list of helpful books that deal with the topic of life after infertility and living childfree. If you’ve read a book that’s been helpful or inspiring, please tell me about it so I can add it to the list.

Before I send you off to snoop around the site and get acquainted, I want to introduce to three fabulous women who made all this happen.

Julia Clarke at ScarletHare designed the logo and colors for the new look.

Lee Miller of Pink Bubble Gum Websites not only went above and beyond the call of duty to put the whole site together and make it look beautiful, she also shared her web and life wisdom, made me laugh, and reminded me to take one imperfect step at a time.

When Lee and I had finished making things pretty, the unflappable Wendy Cholbi glided in and made it all work. She seamlessly moved three years of work from the two former sites and made them all come together here.

I would like to extend a huge thank you to these talented professionals for helping me do what I could never have done alone. Thanks, ladies.

And now I invite you to come inside, take a look around, and make yourselves at home.

Welcome to Life Without Baby 2.0.

That One Weird Childfree Holiday Card in the Stack

 By Maybe Lady Liz

They’re starting to roll in. The waves of holiday cards featuring happy families festooned in matching red turtlenecks ‘round the tree or Canadian tuxedos on the beach. There will be some derivation of a toddler with his arms slung around Dad’s neck. Or Mom watching the kids play on a blanket. Or an Ann Geddes-esque shot of a newborn falling asleep on a reindeer’s back, adorned with nothing more than a tiny Santa hat. If you’re lucky, and your friends and family are deft enough with Snapfish, you’ll get ALL THREE in an artistically staggered arrangement.

And if you’re like me, you won’t be able to stop yourself from comparing them to the cards you’ve sent out over the past few years. Maybe you’ve squeezed your cats into little elf outfits and reindeer antlers (and lost an arm in the process). Maybe you’ve posed with your spouse in front of some magnificent European landmark in a subconscious attempt to remind everyone how awesome it is that you have the freedom and cash to travel. Or maybe you’re like me and my husband, who always try to outdo ourselves every year in the clever department. Last year, we put photos of ourselves at age 6, side-by-side, each ripping into hilariously dated gifts, and titled it “Keep Christmas old-school.”

And in years past, when our friends would send just a ho-hum photo with a generic greeting, we were pretty proud of the fact that our card stood out from the pack and had a little personality. We used to tack it up on the half-wall in our kitchen with all the others and pat ourselves on the back. But as the years have gone by, our card has started to stand out for a very different reason. Instead of noticing the unique panache of our card, I’ve started to see what’s missing: a baby, of course. Kids on Santa’s lap, all that jazz.

I try not to let it happen, but I can’t help but look at my cards in a different light – through the eyes of those who are sending out the baby cards. All our attempts at being so clever probably seem silly, frivolous, immature, shallow, self-centered (words that sound familiar to anyone who actually chooses to be Childfree). They must seem like a stage that was supposed to be passed by now, but isn’t. No doubt they somehow seem…less than they’re supposed to be, to them.

I know, I know – it’s probably all in my head and these aren’t very Christmas-y thoughts. But fear not. I’ll keep the funny Childfree holiday cards rolling. Somebody’s gotta Keep Christmas Weird.

Merry%20Christmas%20from%20The%20Ferences

Maybe Lady Liz is blogging her way through the decision of whether to create her own Cheerio-encrusted ankle-biters, or remain Childfree. You can follow her through the ups and downs at MaybeBabyMaybeNot.com.