Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Our Stories: M

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

M’s turning point came after six long years of enduring the physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion of infertility. “I wanted to feel like I was living again,” she says, “free from the ‘will we?’ or ‘won’t we?’ limbo land.” Having also “gambled away” thousands of dollars on IVF, she and her husband, E, made the difficult decision to “step away from the pursuit of a lifelong dream, knowing we did all we could.”

Making the decision to stop is one thing. “Changing my mindset from ‘when we have kids’ to ‘we’re childfree’ is not an easy or quick process,” she says. “I’ve had the ‘when I have kids’ mindset for 40 years!”

As their journey unfolded, M and E wondered where the other people like them were. So they started a podcast to talk about the scary and difficult parts of this journey, to include the male perspective, to connect with other people who are going through what they’re going through, that is, trying to figure out what a childfree life can look like. After you read M’s story below, listen in on some of their real, relatable, thought-provoking, and sometimes amusing conversations at How Did We Get Here? with E&M.

 

LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.

M: I always wanted to be a mother. I dreamt about it as a little girl as I played with my baby dolls. I couldn’t wait until the day that I got to experience being pregnant, having a baby shower, decorating a nursery, choosing a name, and on and on. Throughout my twenties and thirties, I saw friend after friend experience these things, and I hoped that my turn would come. I wondered what our baby would look like and how they would take after their dad or me. So many dreams from pregnancy to sending them to college to their wedding….

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

M: We tried to conceive for about six years. My husband had an infertility outpatient surgery early in our journey, which led to a major emergency surgery, 25 days in the hospital, and more than a year of recovery. He came very close to losing his life, and the entire experience was very traumatic for us both. A few years after he healed, we decided to try IVF. After three rounds of IVF (one transfer, zero pregnancies), we decided to stop trying to conceive and remain a family of two.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

M: We decided earlier this year to stop infertility treatments and live childfree. I am in a period of grieving while accepting and planning our Plan B life. I do still have some anger about all that we’ve been through, and am not totally sure how to deal with it. I’m trying to be patient/compassionate toward myself, which is not always easy.

My husband and I are journeying through this transition on a podcast, How Did We Get Here? with E & M. This journey feels so lonely sometimes, and we thought a podcast might help us to connect with others going through the same thing, would be therapeutic for us and hopefully helpful for others too. (Side note: We make $0 from the podcast. It’s just something we do for us, from our home.)

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

M: “Mother” has always been a part of my identity since I was a very young girl. So now…it feels like a very sacred part of me is dying and the grief is hard to put into words.

LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?

M: Dive into the waves of grief; don’t try to ignore them or fight them. Give yourself as much time as you need to feel whatever you need to feel. There’s no timeline. I remind myself of this advice often.

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

M: I love the freedom we have to make decisions based solely on what we want. I love how calm and peaceful our home is—especially when I hear the kids next door being difficult, loud, or whiny! I love how much my husband and I appreciate one another after surviving this journey together.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

M: I am so much more resilient than I ever knew! Even when I’m overwhelmed with tears of grief, I feel my strength. I know the tears will pass and that I’ll be okay. Life has run me over many times, and yet I’m still standing. I’m proud of that.

 

How are you faring today? We’d love to hear about your journey, wherever you are on your path toward acceptance, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story. The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.

Whiny Wednesday: Left Hanging by the Fertility Industry

This week’s topic is for those of you who arrived here via the infertility route.

Do you feel you were left hanging by the fertility industry?

Okay, I know that’s a loaded question, so if you don’t feel like jumping in on this topic, or if it doesn’t apply to you, feel free to bring your own whine to the party this week.

If I Had to Go Through Infertility Again…

By Lisa Manterfield

Mr. Fab and I don’t talk much anymore about our infertility journey. He’d as soon forget the whole ordeal and I prefer to look forward rather than dwelling on what might have been. But recently it came up in conversation.

“If I had to do it all again, I would,” he told me.

My first thought was “No way!” I wouldn’t wish that experience on my worst enemy and I don’t think I could bear to see Mr. Fab go through it again. But when I thought about it some more, I see there are positives that came out of it.

We are tougher than we were before, both individually and as a couple. We now know we can weather a major storm, and we’ll be okay when the next one comes along (and they always come along). I’m more compassionate toward others who might be in pain, now that I know what it’s like to be smiling in public and dying on the inside. I learned a lot about myself and how I handle crisis, and we’ve learned about one another. We’ve uncovered the people we really are.

So if I had to do it all again, I would. Would you?

It Got Me Thinking…About What To Do With All Those Keepsakes

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A while back, Robin started a lively discussion on our site about “What do you do with hand-me-downs?” And it got me thinking…about the boxes of stuff in my basement (and the hall closet, and the dining room cabinet, and the office filing shelves…).

My mom, like many women of her generation, has begun downsizing. I regularly get emails from her with photos of china, silver, and other precious family heirlooms. “Do you want this?” she asks.

“Yes! Of course!” I want to say, but my enthusiasm is tempered as I allow myself to think about whether or not I’ll truly use it (I don’t have a lot of fine-dining opportunities) and what I’ll do with it when it’s my turn to pass them along.

On top of her treasures, I think about all the items I’ve saved, most of them truly price-less, such as the programs, cards, certificates, trophies, studio portraits, and snapshots. This doesn’t even include the motherlode of photos and documents on my computer. One day, I’d thought, I’ll share all of this with my children. Instead, my assembled keepsakes mock and taunt me as I now think, Some day, someone, possibly a stranger, will have to deal with this mess.

What will you do with your treasures, your family heirlooms, your precious hand-me-downs?

I hope you’ll join our discussion.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with being childfree.

Whiny Wednesday: People Who Shouldn’t Have Kids

I’ve had to take a break from the news and social media recently. It seems as if nothing good is happening in the world. As if all the terror attacks, politics, natural disasters, and deadly diseases weren’t enough, I find 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?

Talking About the Grief of Childlessness

By Lisa Manterfield

I’ve been writing and talking a lot about grief lately—here on the blog, in my fiction, in my personal life, in the novels I’m reading, and for the Life Without Baby book. Even when I got chatting to a stranger on a plane, the conversation turned to the topic of grief.

Over paper cups of tea, this woman—who had lost her brother to suicide—and I talked about how grief stays with us long after we’re “over it”, how the shape of grief changes with time, how it can change us, and how everyone carries around their own personal grief.

My only regret in the discussion is that it didn’t begin sooner on our journey, because I would have liked to hear more about what she had to say on the subject. But eventually we parted ways, she to her office and I to catch another flight, and I didn’t have the opportunity to ask her more about her grief.

So, I’d like to ask you instead.

  • How has your grief changed over time?
  • How has your loss changed you?
  • In what ways has your grief crept out, even when you’ve tried to keep it under wraps?

As a society, I don’t believe the topic of grief gets enough attention. We’re uncomfortable with grieving people, no matter what type of loss they’ve suffered, but it’s especially true when the loss isn’t understood.

So let’s start the conversation now. Let’s talk about this grief. I’d love to hear what you have to say.

It Got Me Thinking…About What Will Define Me

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I was telling a good friend about a difficult and concerning work-related problem I was having, once again airing my righteous grievances, expressing my frustration at not being able to resolve the issue, bemoaning the fact that my life seemed to be such a never-ending struggle.

“Is this going to define you?” she asked.

What? She’d stopped me cold.

“Is This Going To Define You?” She reached for my hand and took a deep breath.

“Look,” she said, “what you’ve gone through—are going through—is real. And it’s awful and ugly and unfair and everything you’ve said. But. You have a choice. You can wallow in being the victim of all this mess, or you can choose to move forward, in whatever way you can. You can choose what will define you.”

Over the next several days I really thought about what my wise friend had said. She was right. I couldn’t change the choices and behaviors of the other people in this scenario with me, but I did have the power to choose how I would react and who I would become.

Then I got to thinking about my status as a childless woman and how I might apply this advice there. I’m not saying take a stiff-upper-lip approach, because I believe all the stages of grieving are necessary and serve purposes. But at some point, if I want to reach a place of acceptance and peace, I will need to let go and move on. I can choose to be “bitter childless woman” or I can choose to be “strong woman who made the most out of what she got.”

Other people will have their own definitions of me, and that’s their business. The only definition that truly matters, I’ve come to believe, is my own.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is telling the story about her journey in The Mother of All Dilemmas. As she shares her quest to become a single mother (and ultimately embraces a life without children), she explores why society still appears to base a woman’s worth on how many children she has. Watch for updates on the book’s release here at LifeWithoutBaby.com.

 

Whiny Wednesday: Uber Parents


They’re everywhere. You’ve heard them spouting about pre-schools. You’ve seen them take over restaurants. Maybe you’re even related to one!

They’re the topic for this week’s whine:

Uber-Parents

Here’s your chance to blow off steam.

Childless and Invisible

By Lisa Manterfield

Have you ever been around people who behave as if you can’t possibly know anything about life because you don’t have children?

I’m sure that all of us have heard the old chestnuts, “You wouldn’t understand; you don’t have kids” or “I didn’t understand until I became a mother” (which implies the same thing) or even “Only a parent could know how this feels,” as if being childless strips away all capability of empathy.

And then there are those situations where you just feel invisible, when the conversation about children and parenting is swirling around you and no one even bothers to make eye contact with you because what could you possibly contribute?

These instances make me think of the wonderful “Mr. Cellophane” number from the musical “Chicago.”

And even without clucking like a hen,

Everyone gets noticed now and then,

Unless, of course, that person it should be,

Invisible, inconsequential me.

Personally, I’m done with feeling insignificant because I don’t have kids. It took me a long time to get to this point, but now I hold my ground in conversation. I contribute when I can and simply listen and nod when I can’t, just as I would if I found myself in a conversation on any other topic on which I’m not an expert.

I also keep a list of amazing childless women in case I ever need to remind myself that we don’t need to be parents to make a difference. On my personal list is Amelia Earhart, Dian Fossey, Julia Child, and Juliet Gordon Low, who started the Girl Scout movement. If you need your own role models, Jody Day has put together an outstanding collection on Pinterest.

You’d be hard-pressed to call any of these women insignificant. I remind myself of this when I find myself allowing others to make me feel like less than who I am.

So what do you do when you start to feel like a Ms. Cellophane? Do you feign boredom, try to hop in with an intelligent anecdote, change the subject, or do you slip away and hope no one notices you’ve left?

Whiny Wednesday: You Wouldn’t Understand


I know I’m probably going to have to duck for cover with this week’s topic. We’ve all heard it and the sting never seems to diminish. So here we go:

“You wouldn’t understand; you don’t have kids.”

I’ll be behind the couch if you need me.