Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: When We Were Kids

Whiny_WednesdayA college friend just posted a photo of her son and his date all dressed up for the homecoming dance.

It got my attention because the “kids” weren’t much younger than my friend and her now-husband when I first met them, and, as the boy looks like his father, the photo reminded me of them and how flipping long it’s been since I was in school.

It also caused a pang of sadness for another experience I won’t get to have. I won’t get to send my teen off on his first date or take a photo of him and realize he’s a carbon copy of his dad.

It’s Whiny Wednesday, and today I’m feeling whiny about how unfair life can be.

Pet Parenting

petMy cat is my baby, and I have countless cell phone photos and cute stories to prove it.

I’m generally hesitant about talking about Felicity as my baby, as people usually look at me as if I’m insane. On more than one occasion, I’ve caught myself listening to someone talk about her child and then heard myself chip in with, “Oh, I get it. My cat…” and regaling her with a comparable pet parent tale.

So, I was very pleased to hear about a recent study that found that dogs become attached to their caregivers in the same way that human infants attach to theirs.

The researchers discovered that animals exhibit the “secure base effect,” which allows them to feel safe in an unfamiliar environment when the caregiver is present.  In other words, just like children, dogs feel more comfortable exploring the world and interacting with strangers when their “parent” is around, and a dog will bond with its parent in the same way a child bonds to his or hers.

My experience has been that this behavior is also true of cats.

And while human children eventually grow out of this behavior, our pets don’t. Which means they’ll always be our babies.

It Got Me Thinking…About Aunties

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

I’ve been diving for treasure! Which means I finally pulled out the boxes from under my desk and started going through the articles, photographs, scribbles, and other items set aside for “some day” projects. Much of it is going straight into the circular file, but here and there I’ve found something worth keeping.

This is how I rediscovered a treasure called The Complete Book of Aunts, a little book by Rupert Christiansen with Beth Brophy that celebrates brand name aunts (Jemima), X-rated (Gigi’s Alicia), those who helped raise their siblings’ children (when Coco Chanel was orphaned at age 6, her aunts took her in and taught her how to sew), and many others real and imagined (Spider-Man’s Aunt Rosemary).

In addition to historical factoids (“auntie” meant “prostitute” in pre-18th century India), there are tips for good auntie-ing and delightful quotes, such as this gem from Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther:

(Aunt Hetty) “What on earth d’you think I’m here for, I should like to know?”

To be a pattern and example to all aunts, thought Mrs. Miniver; to be a delight to boys and a comfort to their parents; to show that at least one daughter in every generation ought to remain unmarried [and to] raise the profession of auntship to a fine art.

I’m not keen on the “ought to remain unmarried” part, but “raise the profession of auntship to a fine art”—doncha love that?!

Many of us have the pleasure of being aunties, and because we aren’t responsible for little darlings of our own, we’re free to lavish our attentions on our nieces and nephews. I must be doing a decent job because the inscription on the title page, signed by a beloved sister-in-law, reads “Behind every niece or nephew is a ‘great aunt.’” It is nice to know my efforts are appreciated, although I freely admit that I nurture these special relationships because they make my heart sing.

Whether you’re called auntie, tante, tia, shagazi, or an honorary term of your own making, I hope you are finding joy in practicing this fine art too.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree.

Road Map to Healing Program Starts Saturday

Stone BridgeJust a quick reminder that the Road Map to Healing program starts this Saturday.

If you missed the information, you can find the original post here and more details about the program here.

It’s free to join, but you must sign up before end-of-day tomorrow to get the materials on Saturday.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayMost days I’m glad to be a renter rather than a homeowner. I like that when my water heater goes out (for the second time in two years) it’s not my problem, and I like the feeling of freedom that comes with knowing that if we suddenly decided to up sticks and ride our bikes around the world, we don’t have a mortgage tethering us to one place.

But this week, I am not loving renting. I am not appreciating my plants being replaced without warning or the constant hammering and sawing and the stream of workmen yammering outside my window when I’m trying to write thoughtful blog posts. This week I am a whiny renter.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s rubbing on your last nerve this week?

Defusing Tension

Facing a ProblemIt’s a familiar scenario: You’re at a family gathering or out with a group of friends. Everyone’s having a good time, when the topic turns to babies, and some bright spark looks your way and says, “So, when are you going to have kids?”

You could drive a double-decker bus and a Winnebago through the gap in the conversation, and even the birds stop twittering so they can hear your response.

Your face goes cold; your palms start to sweat; you can feel an eruption of emotion rising up into your chest, ready to spew forth and shower everyone in sight. What are you going to say? Do you tell them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, in all the gory details? Or do you mumble something about “someday” or “maybe” or “We’re trying. Ha!” to deflect the question. Or do you stare dumbfounded and hope that someone steps in to rescue you?

Odds are you’ve tried some variation of all of those tactics at some point. And you know that if you so much as mention any attempt to conceive, someone’s going to jump in with all sorts of “helpful” advice from asking if you’ve thought about adoption or offering her eggs for your use, to regaling you with a tale of someone else’s miracle baby.

Recently, I had a conversation with a reader who offered another option that’s worked well for her:

“We tell people we’ve decided to just travel instead,” she told me. “People want to solve problems. If you make it positive, there’s nothing to solve.”

She said this response immediately defuses the tension and changes the topic. She even found that people envied them their freedom to travel. What a refreshing change from the usual pity.

Another reader told me she’d been to an event where the speaker mentioned at the end of his talk that he and his wife (both well past reproductive age) were childfree. “We don’t have children,” he quipped, winking at his wife in the audience, “but we try every night and twice on Sundays.”

I’m sure no one approached him after the talk to offer advice. Why? Because he didn’t give them a problem to solve.

As you’re arming yourself to go out into the world and face potentially difficult conversations, what are some things you could say to answer these awkward questions without prompting people to try and fix your situation?

Sharing What I’ve Learned

Lisa stepping_stonesOver the past few years, I’ve learned a lot about loss and grief, and the process of coming-to-terms with living without a dream I always thought I’d see fulfilled.

I learned how important it was for me to mark the end of my dream clearly, at least to myself, so I could stop hanging onto “what-ifs” and start mourning what I’d lost.

I learned how to start finding myself again when the real me had become so lost in doctors’ visits and dashed hopes that she couldn’t envision doing anything fun again.

And I learned the importance of a compassionate support network of people who understand me, even if I’ve never met those people in person.

As you can see, I’ve learned a lot from my experience. The only sad thing in all this is that I learned these lessons in hindsight, after I needed them, and so I struggled through the early days clueless and on my own. In fact I had no idea how important it was to find support until I started this site to offer support to others…and realized how much I needed that support, too.

So, now I want to share what I’ve learned in a program called “Road Map to Healing,” and I’m offering it free to anyone who wants to access it.

There are eight video modules and you’ll receive one a week in an email, beginning October 19. There will also be a group on the forum so you can talk through what you’ve learned and get help in the places you feel stuck from others in the same position. (Remember the value of peer support?)

I’m offering the program free so that anyone who needs it can access it (because goodness knows, if you’ve been through any kind of infertility treatments, your wallet is already tapped). For anyone who might have a couple of bucks to spare, there’ll be an opportunity to support the program via donation. And as with any good public television pledge drive, supporters will be acknowledged with a fabulous bonus gift.

If you’d like to join the program, you can sign up here.

You can also find out more details about what I’ll be covering in the modules here.

I hope you’ll join me, because hard-earned knowledge is a terrible thing to waste.

It Got Me Thinking…About Being Forever Young

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

My husband and I went to a fabulous wedding a few weeks ago. Gorgeous ceremony, lively cocktail party, mouth-watering dinner, heartwarming toasts. Then a weird thing started to happen. One by one, guests in our age group (late-30s to mid-40s) started to slip out. Babysitters needed to be relieved, teenagers needed to be checked on, babies needed to be fed, sleep-deprived adults needed to drive home while they could still keep their eyes open.

But not us. We danced till after midnight, alongside all the “young people.” It was awesome.

As one of the few childfree couples in our circle of acquaintances, I’m noticing that our circle of friends is starting to change. While we still make efforts to maintain ties with the friends we’ve grown up with, as their priorities shift to parenting duties and time schedules, the friends more in line with our way of life are the other childfree friends. With our late-20 and early-30-something friends, we linger over dinners at trendy new restaurants, sip cocktails at lunch, go on adventures with no time limit. It’s fun, active. And we feel fun and active.

We also laugh at ourselves when things like “’Sup?” slip out.

Granted, sometimes I worry about getting too attached because some day they might have babies and switch teams, leaving me to find new, younger, friends to hang with. You know what, that sounds pretty cool too.

 

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