filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
I had to take a break from the news and social media recently. It just seemed as if nothing good was happening in the world. Amid all the wars, politics, tragedies, and deadly diseases was story after story that prompted this week’s topic:
People who shouldn’t be allowed to have kids
It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s making you furious this week?
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
When I was growing up in the 1970s and early ’80s, “choice” referred to being able to have a legal, doctor-performed abortion for any reason. You were “pro-choice” or you were “pro-life,” and in some areas of our world, there is still no common ground.
So I’m finding it interesting that I’m now hearing about another choice for women, specifically whether or not we choose to have children. Recently Erin Tatum wrote “5 Things You Shouldn’t Say to Women Who Don’t Want Children” for Everyday Feminism magazine. Read the full article here. I am encouraged that this topic is getting some mainstream attention, that insensitive people are being educated. That’s the good news.
The bad news is that it doesn’t hurt any less when comments like the ones she lists are lobbed our direction. “You’ll regret it when you’re older” is #1 on her list, and whether you’re childfree by choice, circumstance, chance, or a combination, that one line has the potential to pour salt into new wounds and reopen old wounds.
Take a look at the article and let me know what else would be on your list of things that should never be said to a childfree woman. And in case you don’t feel like reading to the end, I want to be sure you see what she says in closing:
It can be difficult to defend your decisions when faced with so much ignorance, but always remind yourself that your life is your own and you don’t need anyone else’s validation to justify how you live it.
Embrace childfree living and start exploring all the opportunities that await you.
Yes!
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Did you survive Halloween?
I decided to do the right thing and be prepared for trick or treaters. I had one group of three young children and they were awful! They demanded candy (No sweet “Trick or Treat?”), snatched it from the bowl before I could even offer it (one girl stuck her hand through a hole in my screen door to get it), and left without saying thank you. And these kids were being supervised by their parents!
So, this week, I want to hear how you made it through Halloween.
Whine on.
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.
Tonight is Bonfire Night in the U.K. As a child, it was one of my favorite nights of the year, second only to Christmas Eve.
We’d have a bonfire in the backyard, and my dad would bring home a box of fireworks to set off and a couple of packets of sparklers. We’d have baked potatoes and roast chestnuts, and my mum would make parkin and gooey, delicious bonfire toffee. It was an evening spent outdoors, clustered around the fire. It was about friends and food and a little bit of danger.
It’s one of the many things I miss about my homeland, and it’s one of the traditions I would have enjoyed sharing with my children. And that’s the topic for this week’s Whiny Wednesday:
Traditions you won’t get to share with your children
Happy Bonfire Night and happy whining.
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“This infertility journey nearly broke me on multiple levels,” LuDexMommie* writes. She believed she deserved to have a child, and as multiple fertility treatments failed her, she found herself in a very dark place on the “hope-despair rollercoaster”. Now 39 and soon to be divorced, LuDexMommie acknowledges that she could keep trying, she could recruit a surrogate or adopt, but “I am loathe to open myself up to more pain.” We can relate, can’t we? More of her story is below.
LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood:
LuDexMommie: I didn’t dream, I assumed. I could easily picture all the wonderful moments shared between my child and me. I knew there would be challenges, but I felt I had the capacity to excel at raising a child. In fact, I was so confident that I went to lengths to develop my career and put motherhood (and what I felt to be a requisite relationship) on hold. My philosophy was that if you worked hard enough at something, you would get it. But I never considered having to work to have a baby.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
LuDexMommie: I have premature ovarian failure and adenomyosis, and I consumed infertility technology for three years to battle against this. I have had four IUIs, two IVF procedures with two different egg donors (one was my sister!), two transfers with donor embryos, and two surgeries. Out of all that, only two chemical pregnancies resulted with a hell of a lot of heartache and grief. Circumstances got me here, but I find myself moving toward choosing a childfree life.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
LuDexMommie: Over the past few months it became clear that my marriage is an irreversible source of frustration, not support. I have always had difficulty relating to the term “DH” [Darling Husband] that I read about on blogs. My husband was quite limited in what he was able to give to the relationship, so I am choosing to move forward alone. I am hoping to connect with others without a DH.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
LuDexMommie: I wish I could take that cold, hard scar out of my heart and put it in someone else so they could instantly understand how much it hurts. I will not see an ultrasound picture of a baby growing inside of me. I will not brush my child’s curly hair. There won’t be recognition of myself in a child’s mannerisms. I cannot hug or kiss my child, and no one will run to me for comfort. I won’t be able to teach or learn from my child. I will not experience the pride that parents have for a variety of childhood “firsts”. There will be no school supplies, sports teams, musical instruments, birthday parties, scraped knees, bedtime stories, school dances, family vacations, or driving lessons. I won’t be mother of the bride or groom. No grandchildren for me. I anticipate loneliness. I anticipate pangs of jealously. I am fully aware that parenting is not all roses, but the decision to stop trying when so many rewards are possible is very, very difficult.
LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?
LuDexMommie: Getting “me” back, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Opening up choices for myself. Getting out of a dysfunctional relationship and making myself ready for a healthy one. Cultivating special relationships with my nieces and nephews. Simplifying my life. Recognizing my potential as a human being. Acknowledging the difficulties that having a child in my 40s would present, and taking advantage of the freedoms that being childfree affords.
LWB: What have you learned about yourself?
LuDexMommie: I am surprised that I’m willing to consider being childfree; I would not have predicted that when this process began. I learned what my limits are. I learned I am a positive person at my core, but not at the expense of being practical. I learned how people not going though infertility pain could not help me in the way that I wanted them to. I became more forgiving of obliviousness. I am still trying to understand what “grief work” is. I recognize better what makes me happy, what makes me anxious, and what I am willing to do. I am kinder to myself.
LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”
LuDexMommie: I say, “No. Do you have dogs?”
LWB: What’s your Plan B?
LuDexMommie: Ha! I’m way past Plan B. It’s time to rediscover myself and do things that make me happy.
*Not her real name. We allow each respondent to use a fictitious name for her profile, if she chooses.
Won’t you share your story with us? Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
It’s Whiny Wednesday, your chance to gripe about the issues you’re dealing with this week. This week’s suggested topic is one we’ve all had to deal with:
An over-abundance of work pregnancies
I can relate to this one. When I was trying to conceive, I managed a small department of about eight people. One year we had three simultaneous pregnancies…and none of them was mine.
Whine away!
By Lisa Manterfield
Exiting news! The first book in the Life Without Baby ebook series is out today. Workbook 1: Letting Go of the Dream of Motherhood is available on Amazon now and will be showing up at other online retailers over the coming weeks.
It’s been an interesting process to gather all that I’ve learned about this strange journey over the past years. I wish I’d known five years ago (or maybe even before then) that it was okay to let go of my quest. I wish I’d understood that the loss of my dream meant more than simply not having children and that it would affect the foundation of my identity, my relationships, and all my plans for the future. And I wish I’d known to give myself permission to grieve, instead of putting on a brave face and pretending everything was okay. At least I know that now.
I’ve learned so much from all of you as I’ve voiced my difficulties here and heard about yours. You have taught me so much about this issue and about myself. For that, I am very grateful.
I’m also enormously grateful to Kathleen for her help in crafting the book and then her brilliant work editing and proofreading the final manuscript. There’s so much that happens behind the scenes of this site that couldn’t happen without her.
So, please, grab yourself a copy of the book. It’s affordably priced at $2.99. Your support of these projects enables me to keep this site running without ads or fees. Don’t worry if you don’t have an e-reader. You can download a free App so you can read the book on your computer, phone, tablet, or maybe even your watch!
You can find Workbook 1 here. And if you can’t get enough, you can even pre-order Workbook 2. I’d love to get your feedback if you find them helpful.
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“When I was a little girl,” Heather says, “I always wanted to have a baby, just one.” But she was not able to be a mother, first by chance and later through choice when she chose to stop pursuing infertility treatments. Now 39, Heather and her husband are embracing their own Plan B, a childfree plan. Here’s her story.
LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood.
Heather: I had dreams of loving, caring, and teaching my child all about life. I wanted to be a mother who gave my child humor and memories, a mother who would support and enjoy my child’s journey in life.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Heather: After the last IVF, they called to tell me that my levels had turned low—meaning a miscarriage. I went upstairs into my bathroom, took everything from the IVF and bagged it up, took it to the trash, and told myself that enough was enough. I needed to get myself back.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Heather: Being excluded from my friend’s lives when they talk about their kids. Or being left out of the birthday parties because I don’t have kids, so they think that I won’t want to attend. (I buy the best gifts!)
LWB: What have you learned about yourself?
Heather: That I love my quiet time. That I don’t have the patience for kids around me all the time. I believe that there are places kids should not be—salons, swanky restaurants and bars, concerts—and I enjoy going there.
LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?
Heather: Just because I don’t have children of my own, doesn’t mean that I don’t “like” them. I am a great aunt, a great friend to young teens that my friends and family have. I want people to know that I wanted kids, it just was something that was not meant for me to do.
LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”
Heather: This question still bothers me. I usually just say “No, I don’t have kids.” If people would leave it at that…but most of the time they follow that with “Are you going to?” It depends on who asks and the situation itself, but my favorite answer is “No. Do you?” It usually takes them aback, and I smile deep down.
LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)? What about her inspires you?
Heather: I read an article a couple months ago about stars who don’t have children. Cameron Diaz stated that she doesn’t have kids, and she has a great life because of that. It makes me happy, because my husband and I have a great life, we are free to do what we want, when we want. I lean on that when I feel bad for myself.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
“Our Stories” is taking a short hiatus until September. If you’ve enjoyed reading the column and would like to add your voice to the conversation, we’d love to hear from you. Sharing your experience with others makes you realize you’re not alone, and your story could help someone who is struggling to feel heard.
Please visit the “Our Stories” page to find more about the column and get information about how to share your story. ♥
It’s Whiny Wednesday and this week we have another hot button topic suggested by a reader:
The men who wasted our fertile years
Whether it’s the relationship you fought hard to make work, the “perfect” man who never quite grew up, or the spouse who suddenly decided fatherhood wasn’t for him.
If you have one, you can whine about it here. If not, the floor is open, as always, to all topics in whinification.
~ "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."
