filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Graduation 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 parenting milestones.
As always, your other whines are always welcome.
A while ago, I asked you to share topic ideas for Whiny Wednesday. Quite a few of you were glad to oblige. Thanks for the great ideas. If you’d like to suggest a topic, please leave it in the comments below.
This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is this:
Other People’s Pity
As always, you’re free to vent on your own topic, too.
You may have noticed a new ribbon in the sidebar of the site today. It’s the new Childless-Not-by-Choice Awareness ribbon, and I am proud to share it.
The ribbon is the brainchild of Brandi from Not So Mommy. Her goal in creating the ribbon is to raise awareness about our community and to reduce the stigma surrounding childlessness. You can read more about her mission in her post today, and about how she came to choose olive green for the ribbon.
As I told Brandi, as long as the childless-not-by-choice community remains in the shadows, we cannot begin to have conversations around the issues we face. Awareness is an important first step towards education, acceptance, and healing.
But how do we create awareness when we’re in the midst of our own grieving?
If you’ve been reading this blog or my books, you’ll know I’m a big proponent of taking care of yourself first and working through your own grief before venturing into the tricky territory of trying to educate others. But Brandi and I, and many others, are now at a point where we can talk about our childlessness and losses without having a meltdown. If you’re at, or getting to, that stage, how might you start to raise awareness?
Despite writing openly about infertility for the past decade, I’m actually quite a private person, definitely an introvert. It’s not in my nature to wear pins or t-shirts that encourage questions, or to march for awareness. My personal awareness campaign happens one person at a time. Now I’m past my grieving stage, I can:
What about you? How can you contribute to the awareness of our community in a way that feels right for you? I’d love to hear your ideas.
An acquaintance made a point recently of sharing with me how wonderful her grown son is. “Every holiday,” she said, “he calls to make sure I’m not spending it alone.”
It took me a while to process why I was still stewing over this several days later. For openers, it brought up the wounds of being childless forever, of knowing there will be no grown children or grandchildren to check in on me in my later years, to include me in holiday gatherings. It also bugged me that she was choosing to share this with me, someone she knows has been through the wringer with the whole trying-to-make-peace-with-being-childless journey (i.e., know your audience, lady).
But then it struck me: This woman has been married for decades, has several extended family members nearby, is part of a close community of friends, and she really has no experience of the depths of loneliness I’ve experienced as a long-time single woman and now childless woman. She has never spent a holiday alone—not one—and she never will.
Yet…yet…she still feels lonely.
Loneliness isn’t the domain of single people. You can feel alone in a marriage or in a room full of strangers. You can feel alone when you’re surrounded by gobs of other people who have no idea about your life experience or who don’t make any effort to care. Anyone been at a ladies’ lunch that turned into a mommies’ lunch? Yup, me too.
I think it is very sweet her son is reaching out and trying to help her feel less alone, but I think she would be in better shape if she made the effort to reach out herself. I’ve done this in my own life. When I’ve felt especially sad (and I can throw a world-class self-pity party), I’ve thought about who in my life is in worse shape and I’ve picked up the phone and called. Or sent a text message or email or postcard or handwritten note. Sometimes all I say is “Thinking of you”, and sometimes that’s the extent of the exchange. But other times that friend answers the call and says, “Your timing is perfect. I needed to hear a friendly voice today,” and by the end of the conversation, we’re both lifted up a bit.
I know how hard this journey is, and I know how triggering the holidays are. If you’re in a dark place, take the time you need to grieve and please be gentle with yourself. But, if you feel like you have even an ounce to give, pick up the phone. Tell someone else you’re thinking about them, and maybe they’ll tell you they’ve been thinking about you too. It might be just the message you need to hear to get you through today.
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
A couple of years ago, just after enduring a quiet (i.e., “lonely”) Thanksgiving and facing yet another child-less Christmas, I was on the verge of an epic meltdown. I’d given up vacation days to help a client meet a tight deadline, I was too tired and busy to participate in traditional rituals like window shopping and checking out neighbors’ decorations, there would be no feast to bring scattered family together, there were no children to remind me of the magic of the season…waaaaaaaa!
My husband held me as I whined and cried, and as he dried my tears he said, “Why don’t you go read your book?”
“Because…sniff, sniff…I finished the last good book I had and the one I requested from the library isn’t in yet and….”
“No, no,” he said, in his kindest and most patient voice, “your book, the one you wrote, about how to get through the holidays.”
Oh. Right. Why didn’t I think of that?
He was referring to Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of classic blog posts Lisa and I put together from this site that offer inspiration and encouragement for getting through the season. It was created in response to what we heard so often from readers: that holiday festivities can bring up all sorts of painful emotions when you’re childfree-not-by-choice.
In times of crisis, it’s so easy to forget what is right in front of us, so I would like to take this opportunity to remind myself—as well as you—what we have here on LWB:
If you’re hurting—when you’re hurting—I hope you’ll look to LWB for comfort. Reach out to other LWBers and share what you’re feeling. Allow us to walk alongside you, to offer understanding in our unique yet similar experiences, and to remind you that you are not alone.
Following my husband’s compassionate advice, I did just that. I brewed myself a pot of tea, placed a few sugar cookies on a pretty plate, and sat down with “my book” to heal myself. I won’t say I made it to “Merry!” that day, but I did start to feel better.
This year, instead of giving into the lure of another meltdown, I’m going to be proactive by re-reading the book and spending some time on our site. I trust I will find ideas for getting through the coming weeks with some grace, compassion, and a healthy dose of perspective. I might even find my way back to seeing the magic and joy that can still be mine this season.
Wishing you happier holidays,
Kathleen
Life Without Baby Holiday Companion is available in an ebook format on Amazon. If it feels like you’re heading for a blue Hanukkah/Christmas/Kwanzaa, I hope you’ll order a copy and find some of the peace you long for.
By Lisa Manterfield
Last week we celebrated Thanksgiving here in the U.S., perhaps the official start of the holiday season. I’ve been hearing holiday music in stores for weeks, and know of people who’ve had their Christmas trees up since early November!
For many of you, the festive season might not be such a fun time. Traditionally, whichever holidays you celebrate, they include family gatherings, which might mean facing insensitive relatives and prying questions about children. It can be one of the most difficult times of the year, with social gatherings, kid-oriented activities, and constant reminders of the many ways we don’t get to celebrate the holidays.
I love that this community includes new readers and seasoned pros, so let’s help one another out this year by sharing ideas on getting through the season with our hearts intact.
What are some of the issues you know you’ll face this holiday season? What events are you dreading? What’s going to be hardest for you?
And perhaps most important of all, how to do plan to get through the season with minimum emotional damage?
If you’re looking for some guidance from those who’ve walked this path before you, make sure to add yourself to your gift shopping list this year. Here are some books written by members of our community. Please consider supporting their work, so that they can continue supporting all of us.
Jessica Hepburn has two books on offer. Her first, The Pursuit of Motherhood tells her own heartbreaking story of her quest to become a mother. In 21 Miles: Swimming in Search of the Meaning of Motherhood, Jessica tells the “next chapter” of her story, her quest to find meaning in her own life and shares inspiring conversations about motherhood with some female powerhouses.
Civil M. Morgan offer a 31-Day devotional, 21st Century Hannah: 31 Days of Encouragement on her Childless Not By Choice site.
And I’d be remiss if I din’t include my own books on this list: Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen, and Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a compilation of stories and advice to get you through the holidays, written together with Kathleen Guthrie Woods.
Are you reading this in the bathroom?
Did you make some excuse to sneak back to and barricade yourself in the guest room?
Are you out for a “run”?
No judgment here. I have done my share of escaping and hiding over holiday weekends in attempts to get away from the hurtful comments and unhelpful suggestions (unintentional and otherwise) and try desperately to regain my composure before marching back into the fray.
Those voices say:
“When are you going to start having babies?”
“Am I never going to get grandchildren?!”
“Why don’t you just adopt?”
“Time for the family photo!”
Take a deep breath. Now…I want you to hear my voice:
You are enough.
You are beautiful.
You are loved.
You are not alone.
Resources are available for you: Put out a call for support in the Comments here; we’re good at commiserating and encouraging. Read old posts for ideas on how to get through the tough days. Visit the Life Without Baby Facebook page. Reach out to others in Forums and Discussions. (It’s free. Click on the Community link in the menu above to sign up.) Call an understanding friend. Hang in there. xoKathleen
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I had recently confided in a close friend about a truly difficult and painful situation I was in.
“How are you?” she asked in a follow-up email.
“How am I? I’m so angry I could scream!” I replied. “I cannot believe I’m having to deal with ONE.MORE.THING!”
“Do you want me to scream with you?”
I laughed out loud at her response. Then I thought, What a brilliant idea!
And I may take her up on her offer, as I sense she, I, and we all could use a seriously outrageous yelling session as we vent the anger, frustration, disappointment, shame, pain, and unfairness of the unique challenges we’ve each been facing.
And then I thought a bit deeper about how lucky I am to have such an understanding friend who, even though she’s not in the same pickle I’m in, is willing to get into the fray with me and yell it out until I feel better.
When life hands me particularly sour lemons, I try to look for the potential for lemonade. What is God/the Universe/Life trying to tell me? I wonder. Perhaps:
I found a bit of good this week when I recognized the gift of my yelling-ready friend—as well as the support I’ve received in our community along this often frustrating and soul-crushing LWB journey.
Do you have a friend who will scream with you when things are beyond frustrating, who will cry with you when life’s hurts become unbearable, and who will celebrate with you when things look up? If not, maybe the message we need to hear today is It’s time to find those friends and nurture those relationships.
It’s a message I’m taking to heart.
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
When Paulina Grace first shared her story with us in July 2014, she was, in her words, in a “dark, dark time.” I am happy to report that things have improved for her, and her story is now one of, in my words, hope and strength.
It’s important to me to hear these stories and share them with all of us so that we can have a sense what this whole journey to acceptance can feel like. We can be role models for each other. More than that, for those of us who have gone through the dark times and come out intact, we can offer support and encouragement with total understanding to our sisters who are new to the raw grief of life without baby. We remind each other “You are not alone.”
Wherever you are on your journey today, I hope reading Paulina Grace’s original story and update (following) will help you.
• • •
Paulina Grace spent five years actively pursuing pregnancy. Her arduous journey included three miscarriages, one hysterosalpingogram (HSG), one dilation and curettage procedure (D&C), semen analysis for her husband of 12 years, a couple of rounds of Clomiphene (Clomid), an intrauterine insemination (IUI), plus a round of shots. “Our next step was IVF,” she wrote, “and I couldn’t bear to go through with it.” She figured she faced embracing being childfree by choice (after unexplained infertility) or “complete insanity”. Here’s her story.
LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood:
Paulina Grace: I wanted a daughter, one I’d name after my grandmother who died when my mom was young and my godmother who was basically the only grandmother I did know. I wanted a chance to be pregnant and enjoy preparing for the baby. I wanted to be called “Mom”. I wanted my stepson to have a sibling who was part him and me. I wanted both myself and my husband to be full-time parents and make all the decisions. I wanted to be spoiled and feel important on Mother’s Day. I wanted the chance to make up for all I didn’t get to enjoy as a child.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
Paulina Grace: I’m proud of myself for knowing when I needed to get off the fertility roller coaster. I’m a more empathetic and compassionate person. At times I wish my life could have been different. Mostly I face the reality that I have a wonderful life without biological children.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Paulina Grace: I was just so sad and shut down all of the time. I went to an infertility support group and saw more of that. That wasn’t the vision I’d had for myself or the image I wanted to project for other women. After reading the book Sweet Grapes: How to Stop Being Infertile and Start Living Again by Jean Carter (there wasn’t much else at the time), I came to the realization that the only reason I was unhappy with my life was this new information that I couldn’t have children. I’d been happy with my life up to that point, so I felt there was no reason I couldn’t be happy still.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Paulina Grace: The future. Having children carves out a fairly defined path for you for at least 18 years! No need to think about anything else for a while. I also worry about when I get older and need help. I actively watch over and care for my parents, and I wonder who will do that for me.
LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?
Paulina Grace: Being able to support others from a new perspective. I take more time to listen to my single, married, or parenting friends. I meet them where they are and tell them they are doing just fine. I have energy to play with and spoil my younger nieces and nephews. I have patience and understanding to listen and spend time with my older nieces, nephews, and now teenage stepson. And I can still take a nap whenever I want to!
LWB: What have you learned about yourself?
Paulina Grace: You have to put yourself first and, if you’re in a committed relationship, your partner a close second. If you don’t know yourself well enough, you can’t know how to ask for help from those who love you. Your courage to lead an unexpected yet happy life will help someone else do the same.
LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?
Paulina Grace: Let life do its part. You don’t have to control everything, and trying to only makes the hard times worse. Try new things and meet lots of people. This journey has led me to some of the most wonderful, courageous, open, and loving women I’ve ever met. Don’t just focus on the losses, because there’s still so much to be gained.
LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)? What about her inspires you?
Paulina Grace: Lisa Manterfield and her ongoing commitment to sharing her story and the story of childfree women everywhere. I first “met” Lisa via the blog around 2009, and her amazing book has a permanent place on my bookshelf. Her e-course and personal warmth on the videos and support calls helped give me emotional strength I didn’t even know I needed. I really can’t thank Lisa enough for being a light during dark moments.
• • •
LWB: Where are you on your journey today?
Paulina Grace: When I got this request to update my story, I think I was a bit hesitant to read my post, afraid of what it might bring back. However, it was an interesting stroll down memory lane.
I’m definitely embracing Plan B. In the last few years, I moved away of being an entrepreneur and headed back out into the working world. This was a huge change for me, and right away my first employer was full of pregnant families. It was the ultimate test on whether I had truly done my work. Thankfully, I passed with flying colors and even enjoyed the baby showers. I was able to talk to the pregnant moms with curiosity versus jealousy. I think they appreciated I didn’t give them any pregnancy/baby advice or horror stories. I also didn’t force myself to try and fit in, I let the young moms/parents do their thing. I was okay being me, and them being them.
A couple of years ago I did finally insist to my husband that he get a vasectomy. It was still a lingering issue on the journey. I was turning 40 and truly did not want the surprise of becoming pregnant. My periods also started getting heavier around that time, and it would make me wonder if I was miscarrying again. I needed to be clear mentally and physically that it was over. I needed my husband to take the step with me.
Interestingly enough, I found out in the last month I need a hysterectomy. While I won’t miss the awful periods, it is also a very final point in my own fertility journey, too. I do wonder if there will be an emotional point for me or, if again, it will offer a bit of relief to know that door is locked and the key gone forever!
LWB: What would you like to say to the you of 2014?
Paulina Grace: I’m so proud of her. That was such a dark, dark time. I’m actually going through a valley in my life right now. Looking back on how I got through all of that reminds me how strong I am, how loved I am, and it gives me heart that I’ll get through this, too. I am reminded that the first journey led me to some amazing friendships, most of which I still maintain today.
I grew and evolved tremendously in those years. As I get older, I see over and over how we’re all handed issues we cannot handle and/or are completely unfair. Having biological children doesn’t stop you from pain. I even found a way to give my pain an outlet for meaning by volunteering for a grief camp for children, Camp Erin. I wasn’t there to share my story but bear witness to theirs. Watching them release their pain and start to feel alive again was one of the most emotionally draining yet uplifting things I’ve ever done. I’m no longer afraid of uncomfortable or taboo topics. The world needs people who can have those conversations to help us all heal together.
I’m still eternally grateful for Lisa Manterfield. She’ll always be an angel in my life.
This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic comes from a reader and is ripe for a rant and perhaps some ideas.
She writes:
“I still haven’t figured out how to make friends with people my own age (40s) who have children. I often feel disposable, or okay to invite to things when it suits them. I’m a thoughtful, caring person who deserves better.”
What do you think about this? It’s Whiny Wednesday, so let it all out.
~ "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."
