Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Asparagus in my Future

asparagus - pixabay.comLast month I did something I’ve been thinking about for years and which signified a real and definite change in my outlook on life. I planted an asparagus bed.

For those of you who aren’t horticulturally-inclined, planting an asparagus bed is kind of a big deal. Asparagus takes up a lot of space, with tall spreading plants. The plants don’t produce edible asparagus in the first year and have to be carefully tended and consistently watered to produce crisp, delicious spears the following year. With care, the plants will continue to produce year after year, but planting a bed means dedicating a large patch of garden and making a long-term commitment, which is why I haven’t done it before and why it’s so significant to me now.

So much in my life has been uncertain for so long that I’ve found it hard to make plans for a month in advance, let alone commit to a project that will take at least a year to come to fruition and will mean an ongoing commitment of many years. Ever since my future as a mother began to look uncertain, I haven’t been able to form a clear picture of how my life might look down the road.  Setting goals and making plans has felt pointless when I’ve no idea what my desired destination is anymore.

Although having a bed of homegrown asparagus isn’t exactly a fully-formed picture of my ideal life, and there is certainly a lot of fuzziness around the path my life will take now, my decision to commit to planting took forward planning and feels like the beginnings of commitment and permanence. It’s a step towards a positive future…and a very tasty future, at that.

What a Difference Three Letters Makes

Maybe BabyBy Maybe Lady Liz

Coming to the end of my three and a half mile torture session on the treadmill, I found a final burst of energy when what I thought was going to be an incredibly uplifting commercial came on. It was for Walt Disney World (hey, I watch soap operas – I’m just glad when it’s not a diaper commercial) and featured a mid-thirties-ish couple having a real blast by themselves. It went through a litany of things that people without kids can enjoy when thinking about planning a spontaneous trip to the Happiest Place on Earth…

No homework to check…

No school vacations to work around…

No photos with Mickey…

It finished by introducing them as “Mark and Natalie with no kids…” over an image of them looking madly in love at a romantic dinner. Just as I’m thinking, “Whoa, Disney – way to go on representing the childless and the Childfree!”, they drop their three-letter bomb:

YET.

*Sigh* I went from being totally jazzed about how such a mainstream company had the forethought to be inclusive of the 20 percent of us who don’t have kids, to being totally bummed by the realization that we’re probably a long ways away from that.

Needless to say, I hopped off the treadmill and immediately made myself a martini.

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.

It Got Me Thinking…About Unfriending

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

Due to some unfortunate security issues, I recently had to “unfriend” several “friends” and business acquaintances from my personal Facebook page. I sent individual messages to each person to explain that this would be happening and express my hope that this wouldn’t cause any hard feelings. It wasn’t a fun process.

But, when it was all done, I found it was rather liberating. Friends-of-friends-of-friends and coworkers-of-coworkers who really had no business being in my personal business were removed, leaving me with a smaller circle of real friends, people with whom I actually want to keep in touch.

And it got me thinking about other things I’d like to unfriend. Like entertainment shows that consider having a baby newsworthy, magazines for mothers that masquerade as magazines for “women,” and books (typically classics) that feature a female character who has gone insane because she couldn’t give her husband children.

While I’m at it, I wouldn’t mind temporarily unfriending anyone who relays in great detail their baby’s smallest developments (“She pooped!”) and skipping over the royal pregnancy (I mean, congratulations and good luck to the Prince and Duchess, but spare me the nine months of “news”).

This could, of course, get out of control, and I could find myself friendless, but it has some appeal, doesn’t it? You tell me: What would you like to unfriend this week?

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

Infertility Girl

typewriterLast month I interviewed author Jennie Nash about her new novel, Perfect Red. Before she was known as a fiction writer, Jennie wrote a book about her battle with breast cancer. The Victoria’s Secret Catalog Never Stops Coming is a wonderful book and has been a big success for Jennie, but she doesn’t talk about it much anymore. “I didn’t want to be “Cancer Girl” anymore, she says.

When I meet new people, they usually ask one of two questions: “Do you have kids?” or “What do you do for a living.” Eventually either of these two questions leads to the same awkward conversation about Infertility Girl.

When people ask me what I do for a living, I happily tell them I’m a writer. The next question is always, “Oh, what do you write?” Sometimes, if I’m feeling particularly strong and confident, or if the person feels like an empathetic type, I’ll tell them about my book and this site, and that I write a lot about coming-to-terms with not having children. More often than not, I find myself offering a blurry answer about writing articles for websites, which is also true, but not the whole truth.

It’s not that I’m ashamed of what I do or the subject on which I write. It’s just that I don’t want my childlessness to be the first thing people know about me. I don’t want to become Infertility Girl.

When people ask me what I do for a living, I want to be able to tell them “I’m a novelist.” The only problem with this is that I’ve yet to finish a publishable novel. (And any of you writers out there will probably read between the lines that I have two full and two half manuscripts hidden in a drawer, not yet fit to see the light of day.)

So, a decision has been made. I need to finish my novel. This year. And get it published. Which means something’s got to give.

So, beginning this week, I’ll be posting to the blog only three days a week instead of five. Look out for me on Mondays and Whiny Wednesday on Wednesdays (I wouldn’t dare take that away!) Kathleen’s It Got Me Thinking… column will move to Fridays and there will still be guest bloggers making appearances at various times.

I’ll admit I considered starting a new blog about writing a novel, but even I could see the futility of cutting back on one blog to make time for writing, only to start up another blog! Just know that I’ll be taking notes for the future.

Is Life Without Baby going away? Heck, no. It’s just playing nice and sharing brain space with something new, and giving Infertility Girl the chance be Novel Girl as well.

It Got Me Thinking…About Excuses

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

At 10 pm I was at my computer, reviewing my presentation for an early morning meeting, when an e-mail from the client came through. He had forgotten about an event at his kid’s school and needed to reschedule. Seriously?!

Now, I never want to disappoint a child and think parents should support as many events as possible. However. Four other people had cleared their schedules to be at this meeting. We all made sacrifices, both personal and professional, to be in attendance. I’d been prepping for days, and I’d turned down other work to get started on the project (lost money for a freelancer). Had I been in bed instead of in my office that night, I would not have seen the last-minute e-mail and would have shown up at the meeting location as scheduled, thus losing another day of work. What pissed me off the most was this guy never even apologized for inconveniencing the rest of us, he just requested that we  “reschedule as soon as possible.”

It got me thinking about all the times I’ve heard parents use their kids as excuses:

  • I can’t work late tonight/this weekend/over the holiday because of the kids. (Which leaves me, the childfree person, to pick up the slack.)
  • I missed the deadline/didn’t finish the name tags/couldn’t bake the cupcakes I promised because my kid kept me awake last night. (So now I have to scramble to get it done and cover your butt at the eleventh hour?)
  • I have to leave early (and leave all the extra work with you) to pick up my kid/go to my kid’s soccer game/get groceries for the kids’ dinner. (I have a life too, dangnabbit!)
  • I’m late because of my kid.
  • I’m tired because of my kid.
  • I’m cranky because of my kid.

I get it. Being a parent is exhausting, time-consuming, and crazy work. But I want to say to the people who overuse this excuse: SUCK IT UP! You chose this life, so take responsibility for your responsibilities. Either that or be ready to accept without complaint my excuse that “I just don’t feel like covering for you this weekend because you missed the deadline and it’s made me cranky.”

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She desperately needs a vacation, preferably one involving sunny beaches and fruity cocktails.

It Got Me Thinking…About Labels

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I play a lot of roles in life: friend, sister, writer, daughter, gym rat, wife, aunt, citizen of the world. They are all important to me, but I would argue that not one, on its own, defines me. I think maybe that’s why I get irked when I hear people trying to pigeonhole others by saying things like, “She’s your gay friend, right?” Um, no. She would be my friend, period. The fact that she happens to be gay is only part of who she is. (And, by the way, from an editor’s point of view, I have many friends who happen to be gay, not just one.) It’s like saying someone is an Irish cop or that fat actress or a Catholic conservative. It smacks of bigotry and it feels demeaning, whether the comment is spoken consciously or not.

That’s why I think it stung when someone recently referred to me as “circumstantially infertile.” Have you heard this term? It means a woman who has not had children due to life circumstances: hasn’t met the right guy, opted not to be a single parent, ran out of time on her biological clock. This in part describes my life path, although I’ve become more comfortable with the term we use around these parts, “childfree,” which I’ve now been informed means someone who has “chosen” not to have children.

Po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes?

I suppose labels help people better understand me, possibly be better able to relate to me, but it feels like they are used more often to separate and isolate us. I am a human being who happens to be circumstantially infertile. Emphasis on “human being.” There’s so much more to me than that one little label, and I hope people will take time to look beyond that and get acquainted with all the other parts that make me, well, me. I promise to do the same.

Meanwhile, I’d like to hear what you think about the whole label issue. What, if any, label do you use to describe your status and how do you feel when you hear others use it to define you?

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

 

Decluttering Baby Stuff

releaseIn her blog Baptism By Fire, Wolfers wrote a wonderful post about our emotional attachment to clutter, and how she wasn’t yet ready to let go of her baby-related items.

It’s been a couple of years already since I reached the point of being ready to let go of my baby clutter, so I was surprised by the emotions that stirred up when I read her post.

As I never actually became pregnant, I accumulated only a few baby items. It took me several years before I had the courage to say goodbye to them, but when I did let them go, it was sad, but not difficult. I was ready.

The things that brought on the strongest wave of emotions were all the books I’d bought over the years as I’d tried to uncover the magic formula to my fertility. I had books on Chinese medicine, diet, mindfulness, you name it, and I can remember feeling so angry when I put them in the donation box. I felt as if I’d been taken for a ride by these authors who had promised me a miracle. I felt duped and cheated—and really, really mad.

They’re out of my life now and largely out of my mind, but even though they’re gone, they’ve still left a mark where they used to be. And sometimes that mark gets sore again.

What have you held onto and what have you been able to let go?

My Inner Cranky Old Lady

Furious womanIt’s Valentine’s Week (because no commercially-driven holiday ever lasts for just a day anymore) and my inner Cranky Old Lady and I are having words again. As you can probably tell just from my opening sentence, she is already getting the better of me.

My Cranky Old Lady doesn’t like Valentine’s Day. It’s too commercialized, too many expectations on people to impress and throw around good money on overpriced roses and dinners. It snubs people who don’t have a special Valentine in their lives, and it points a rude finger at their singledom. What’s more, it’s yet another holiday, originally intended for adult lovers, that’s been hijacked by kids and their cute “I love you Mommy” Valentine’s cards. Nope, my inner Cranky Old Lady abhors Valentine’s Day.

But I kinda like it. Oh, yes, it’s all those things my Cranky Old Lady says it is, but I don’t want to hate it. My Cranky Old Lady has taken over too many holidays from me over the past years and I’m ready to take them back.

In her defense, I know she did me a favor by keeping me away from the Hallmark holidays and protecting my tender interior. She talked me out of Halloween, Christmas, even July 4th, to keep me from the hurt I was feeling about not having children for those holidays. She did the right thing by me, and I appreciate that, but I’m ready to come out and play again.

Part of the silver lining of not having children is that I’m not bound to anyone else’s expectations of how holidays should be celebrated. If I want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I can. If I don’t want to, I don’t have to. And this year I choose to lock up my Cranky Old Lady and embrace the silliness and blatant commercialism of the day. Who knows, I might even break my Crank Old Lady rule and wear something red!

Do you have an inner Cranky Old Lady? When do you let her out and when do you put up a fight?

 

Asking for the Help You Really Need

holding handsLast week I wrote about learning to ask for help and I’ve been thinking a lot about that topic since. Why is it so difficult for so many of us to ask for help?

Mali made a great point in her comment:

“I used to think asking for help was a weakness. Now I realize that asking for help is often the hardest thing, and requires real strength and honesty and courage.”

It does take a lot of courage to ask for help, especially from people we care about or who know us as strong, independent women. I also think that often we know we need help, we just have no idea what we need and who to ask for it.

When I need help, I’m fortunate enough to have some true friends and understanding family members I can turn to. My friend C is a wizard at research. If I need informational support, I go to her. My friend K is an ace networker, so if I need to find someone who’s shared my experience, she would know someone who knows someone. If I need someone to be pragmatic, I call M. If I need someone to call me out on my BS, I plan lunch with SC. If I need a friend who’ll say nothing, but just give me a hug, J or C will do that, and if I need someone to commiserate on the injustices of life, SR is my go-to girl.

Mr. Fab is a fixer. If I tell him a problem, he’ll instantly go to work on a solution. But sometimes it’s not what I need. Sometimes I just want to talk and know that someone has heard me. Sometimes I just want someone to listen and say. “Aw, that sucks!”

For several years I would ask him for help and then get frustrated when he didn’t offer the kind of help I really wanted. Finally, I figured out that I needed to be specific. “I don’t need you to fix this; I just need to talk about it,” I told him. Even as I saw him register my request, I could sense that not trying to fix my problem went against his instinct. But when he saw that simply listening helped me to talk my way to my own solution, we both ended up getting what we needed.

Now, when I need to ask for someone’s help, I also try to be specific about exactly the kind of help I need, whether that’s feedback, a solution, or just someone to hand me Kleenex while I pour my heart out.

What have you learned about asking for help?

Finding support and learning to ask for help are just two of the topics covered in the new Road Map to Healing course. I’m sharing a little love right now and offering this course at a special “new program” rate until Valentine’s Day. If you’re looking for help in coming-to-terms with a “life without baby,” please consider joining me.

When Cheers is Not So Cheery

Maybe BabyBy Maybe Lady Liz

Last night, I was in a bit of a funk, so I settled down for a few episodes of Cheers on Netflix. Good wholesome show that can’t help but put a smile on your face, right? Unfortunately, I happened to land on the episode where Sam decides to quit his bartending duties and become the full-time manager/promoter at Cheers. He hires another bartender, Ken, to help Woody out pouring drinks. After just a couple of weeks, it becomes very clear that the management thing wasn’t really working and Sam belonged back behind the bar. Though he feels bad about it, he knows Ken needs to be fired because there’s not enough work (or payroll money) for three bartenders. He’s all set to do it when Ken’s wife arrives with – of course! – their two small children.

Though Woody had become a beloved fixture at Cheers over the past several months (or years?), a good friend, and an excellent bartender, Sam took one look at those kids and immediately decided that the “right thing to do” was let Woody go because he didn’t have a family to support. The episode wrapped up neatly, as they always do, with Ken being offered a better job elsewhere and Woody coming back with a nice raise, but the message left me with a sour taste in my mouth. It seemed to suggest that those of us without children are somewhat expendable. That we’re better equipped to handle life’s hard knocks because it’s just “us”. And that when the going gets tough, those with a family are going to be given preferential treatment.

I’m not saying that I don’t understand Sam’s actions. When I was in HR and we had to do cutbacks, the person I remember most vividly was the one who’d just bought a house for his family and now had no idea how he was going to make his payments. Should he have been given special consideration over his peers who were still renting, or didn’t have children? Of course not. Did it make it any easier to watch, or sleep that night? No.

So I get it, I really do. But it was just another reminder of where those of us without children fall in the rankings when important decisions need to be made. And that, my friends, is a very scary notion in these difficult economic times.

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.