Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Fabulous Friday

Earlier this week, Rerah commented how great it would be to have a “Fabulous Friday,” where we can list all of the positive things we do or want to do, or are able to do because we don’t have children. I think this would be an excellent way for us all to keep our eyes on the future and what it might hold for us, even as we’re dealing with the past.

Kathleen mentioned that she is planning a cycling trip to France this year and is gathering information on things to do.

My plans for this year also include travel. Mr. Fab and I once created a Bucket List of places we wanted to visit. We made a start on checking things off, but life happened, we got busy and distracted, and our last few trips have been places that are quick and easy to book and don’t require much planning.

So, this year, I’m dusting off my Bucket List, making time to do some research and planning, and then we’re going…somewhere. I’ll report back later.

So what do you have planned, or what would you like to have planned? Could you use some encouragement? Let us know here, so we can keep one another buoyed up and maybe offer advice and support, if needed.

It Got Me Thinking…About Meeting You

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Mark your calendars for Saturday, February 11, 2012—the first-ever LWB Meet-Up!

We’ve bandied this about for a while and now it’s going to happen! The San Francisco Group members (look under “Groups” on the Main page of the LifeWithoutBaby site) are going to meet in San Francisco for a casual lunch, a get-to-know-you gathering. If you live in Northern California, sign on with our group and come join us.

This isn’t just for gals in my neighborhood. If you haven’t already, join one of the other regional groups and suggest a meeting place. If your area isn’t represented, start a group (under the Groups column, there’s a place to “+ Add a Group”). If none of this is practical for you, then call or e-mail a childfree friend and ask her out for lunch. You don’t have to tell her what inspired the invitation; think of it as a worthy excuse to catch up with a good friend. (And if it’s just you, then take yourself out for a really nice lunch and we’ll be with you in spirit!)

In my mind, this isn’t a time to get together to bitch about being childless (feel free to do that on tomorrow’s Whiny Wednesday) or to pull out our hankies and share our sorrowful tales (feel free to do that any and every day on LWB, a safe place where you can pour your heart out to a compassionate and sympathetic community). Let’s focus on the positive, break bread together, and simply enjoy being in the company of other great women…who happen to be childfree…just like me.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She loves discussing books and movies, and gathering suggestions for “must-sees” for her upcoming trip to France.

With Eyes of Faith…A Brand New Year

By Dorothy Williams

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD,

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.”

 

~ Jeremiah 29:11

I love that passage from the Bible, where God promises prosperity, hope and a future. Now that I understand the context, it’s one of my favorite verses to reflect on at this time of year, especially now that I have faced my own form of cultural exile as a childless woman.

The prophet Jeremiah spoke for God to people who loved the Lord, but nevertheless had been driven into exile from their homeland. At the same time he delivered a promise of welfare and not woe, Jeremiah also prophesied that the exile would last several more decades! Can you imagine a frail, little old lady, hearing this and shaking her veil?  She had, maybe, a few good years left on earth, so how could these promises be applied to her life? Since scholars say that the prophecy pointed to God’s plan for a messiah, perhaps she placed her hope on an eternal relationship with God, rather than a passing, earthly reality.

Like her, I also face an exile that I will not outlive.  After enduring pregnancy announcements from friends and family in my thirties, I now dread the upcoming “I’m going to be a grandma!” to a chorus of whoops and yells. As the mommy club keeps expanding (gosh, even women in convents use the title of Mother) so does my period of exile.

But unlike that frail lady in Babylon, I believe God’s plan for a messiah has been fulfilled. So when I reflect on the passage from Jeremiah, I think about the past year and see clearly how God provided welfare and not woe, in the here and now of my lifetime. I may not be delivered from exile but, like my brothers and sisters in Christ, I have a Messiah who walks with me through it, blessing me with a double portion of life’s goodness.

How do you approach this time of year?  What are your plans for the future?

Dorothy lives near Chicago.  She and her husband spend January weekends cross-country skiing the snowy, winding paths of forest preserves.

Whiny Wednesday

It’s the first Whiny Wednesday of the year. In case you’re joining us for the first time, Whiny Wednesday is the one day of the week where we don’t have to play nice. It’s your chance to blow off steam, rant about injustices, and generally complain about life. It’s an open forum to whatever’s on your chest off it, so don’t hold back. Whine away!

Happy New Year

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. So how was it?

I had a very quiet Christmas with Mr. Fab and my mum. We went for a walk, cooked dinner, opened gifts, and played some games. Oh, and ate entirely too much chocolate.

Mr. Fab has read one too many Dickens novels and has been requesting a Christmas goose for the past decade, so this year I did it, and it was delicious.

I spent Christmas Eve preparing side dishes, sauces, and dessert. It was a beautiful sunny day, my mum was out in the garden reading, Mr. Fab was running last-minute errands, and I had a couple of hours alone with my thoughts (and my goose) in the kitchen.

I was thinking about how much I enjoy my quiet Christmas, even though it’s vastly different from the noisy family celebration I had once envisioned for us. But I have to admit that I enjoy the freedom of the holidays without children.

But I was also struck with a bout of melancholy for the things I’ll never get to do. It’s a shame I’ll never get to enjoy smuggling a new bicycle into the house after dark, wrapping gifts in the wee hours after the recipients have gone to bed, and carrying on the myth of Santa when the kids are old enough to doubt, but not quite prepared to risk being wrong.

It was a short bout of melancholy that passed as I sprawled in front of my fireplace, stuffed with roast goose and good wine, and tried to decide whether to read for a while, or just give myself over to the goose and take a nap.

Everything in life is a compromise, and even as you lose something, you gain something else in its place. For me, the gain is freedom and flexibility, and the bliss of a quiet, lazy Christmas afternoon.

A Very Special Chero

I’d like to give credit to a very special Chero.

This woman works tirelessly behind the scenes, offering her support to her husband, his work, and his faithful employees. She lives in a harsh climate, cut off from the rest of civilization, but she doesn’t complain. She never seeks credit for her contributions and dedication, but instead allows her husband to bask in the spotlight.

This couple never had any children of their own, and yet, they’ve chosen to bring joy to millions of other people’s children throughout the world.

So today, I’d like to raise a glass of whiskey and a mince pie (or a glass of milk and a cookie, for my U.S. friends), to that wonderful Chero: Mrs. Claus.

Chero: Annie Edson Taylor

I was skimming through a children’s book called Women Daredevils, and I came across some fascinating cheroes. One of my favorites was this woman, Annie Edson Taylor.

As a 63-year-old widowed schoolteacher, whose only child had died in infancy, Annie was facing a future of poverty. She needed to do something drastic in order to survive, so in October 1901, she decided to supplement her income by becoming the first person ever to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel.

Luckily, she survived to tell the story, but while her get-rich-quick scheme brought her fame, the money didn’t follow. She died in poverty at the age of 83.

Perhaps Annie isn’t exactly the kind of chero we want to turn to for inspiration, but for sheer guts and foolishness alone, I say, “Hurray” for the Queen of the Mist.

It Got Me Thinking…About Holiday Slights

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

“Come One, Come All!” trumpets the headline.

I’m skimming the special calendar section of our local paper and find myself drawn into a description of a holiday spectacular and crafts fair, featuring actors as classic Dickens characters and carolers strolling in Victorian dress as they sing in the season. I am so there!

But then I read the small print: “Revelers (that’s me!), particularly families (uh, wait), are invited to enjoy the festivities.” It’s possible I’m being over-sensitive, but I am so sick and tired of slights like this, and it seems to strike an especially painful chord with me as we approach the holiday season. The “Family Sing-Along” at church. The “Family Pot-Luck” intended to bring coworkers closer together. The “Family Movie Night,” where multiple generations come together to enjoy a touching holiday-themed film. I love love love all of these fun activities, and will participate even though I’m not a 5-year-old, even though I am not part of a “family.” It’s sad to me, though, that my revelry is diminished by the sting of not feeling legitimately part of the event, all because of a marketing choice.

While I don’t want to get PC (politically correct) to the point of ridiculousness, I’d like to suggest to the world that there are other ways to welcome everyone without making single and/or childfree people feel…well…unwelcome. “Fun for all ages!” “Something for everyone!” The marketers for the fair had me at “Come One, Come All!” I wish they’d left it at that.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. “Mele Kalikimaka” might be her favorite Christmas carol.

Writing to Heal

“I write to make peace with the things I cannot control.  I write to create red in a world that often appears black and white.  I write to discover. I write to uncover.   I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams.  I write to remember.  I write to forget.  I write to quell the pain.  I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know.  I write as an act of faith.  I write to the music that opens my heart.”

~ Terry Tempest Williams

I love this quote. It sums up everything I feel about the art of writing. Whenever I have one of those days when I wonder why I ever decided to become a writer, or what the point is of my putting the thoughts that are in my head down on paper, I pull out this quote and remember.

When I first started this blog or when I first had the thought that maybe I should write a book, I hadn’t yet found this quote. I just felt an urge to write about what was going on with me. But it turns out that the process touched on every aspect of the quote.

Writing has helped me come to terms with being unable to have children, something that was completely out of my control.

I have definitely discovered and uncovered a lot about myself through writing, and I’ve certainly touched on the areas of being childfree that are far from black and white.

I’ve written myself out of my nightmares and found a way, not to forget, but to move past the nightmare of infertility by committing the stories to paper (or screen.) And I’ve most certainly confronted aspects of myself that I did not know.

If you’re still trying to work through your own thoughts and feelings about not having children, try writing. Even if you don’t want to air your dirty laundry in a blog, get yourself a journal, or ask for one as a gift, and just write. Don’t try to make it good writing, don’t even worry about doing it every day, or finishing a thought. Just write. It will help to clear your mind of all the clutter and sort through some of those feeling that don’t always make sense.

The Art (and Benefits) of Lying

Dorothy sent me this article recently (thanks Dorothy) from a woman asking “Dear Coquette” for advice on what to say when people ask if she has children. Dear Coquette’s answer? Lie.

 

I had to laugh out loud when I read this, because it has never occurred to me before to lie about not having children. It’s brilliant!

 

Now, granted, if you’re talking to someone you’re likely to see again or who might otherwise find out the truth, then it gets tricky, but if you’re at a cocktail party or some social situation where you’re basically making small talk with strangers, then why not make something up? I mean really, you could actually have some fun with this,

 

I envision clipping photos of kids from magazines and putting them in one of those fold-out wallets, then when someone asks if I have kids, I’ll whip out the pictures and say, “Why, yes! I have five. This is Mai, Uri, Owen, Bea, Senise.” (Say it fast; extra points if you get it.) Then I can start in on what a horrible time I’m having because the baby has a very delicate digestive system. I really think this could work.

 

What do you think? Could you lie to a stranger? More to the point, would you?

 

Oh, and I must just say that while I think this suggestion is inspired, I happen not to agree with her suggestion that saying, “I can’t have children” will shut the person up. In my experience, it’s more likely to open a whole conversation about adoption. I think it’s much more fun just to lie.