Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

The Power of Story

I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.Welcome to Story Power. In this new column, I’m excited to explore with you the powerful effects that stories have on our lives.

Telling stories is an integral part of what it means to be human. Since the dawn of man, we’ve told stories to pass along survival information, to educate and inform, to discover ourselves, and to entertain. Every day we tell hundreds of stories as we navigate our way through the day.

In the six years since I started Life Without Baby, I’ve told my own story of infertility and shared the stories of others. I’ve learned from other people and come to better understand my own experience. I’ve used that collective knowledge to tell a bigger story about what it’s like to survive unexpected childlessness and to create a new narrative for a life without children.

At the same time, I’ve been telling other stories, made-up stories of fictional people and situations. What I’ve learned is that, even in writing about something I’ve never experienced personally (such as surviving a deadly virus as a teenager—my novel-in-progress) so much of my own story finds its way onto the page as I explore themes that are relevant to my own life.

What I hope to do here in Story Power is help you understand your own experience through the power of story. We’ll explore how story helps us make sense of our lives and how we can use story to inform, educate, and inspire ourselves and others. I’ll share tips and exercises to help you tell your own story, and share other people’s stories (both true and fictional) as inspiration. Along the way, I’ll let you in on some of my own story telling progress and what I’m learning as I move into this new stage of my life.

This Story Power blog feels like the next logical step for me on my journey, as I move beyond my identity as an infertility blogger and back toward my original destination as a novelist. Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, you can come along with me and capture your own story through journaling, audio recording, structured writing, or any other art form. I’ll be playing around with some of these, too.

This project is something of an experiment, so I’d love to hear what you think, what (if anything) excites you about this, and what you’d like to learn or hear about. Please leave me a comment below, and if you’d like to be notified of new posts, there’s a subscribe option in the sidebar.

I look forward to sharing this new chapter with you.

Writing My Way Through Infertility

typewriterToday is the final stop on my blog tour and I’m very pleased to take you to France to visit Bamp.fr.

Bamp.fr is a collective of infertility bloggers who have been making some giant strides forward for the infertility community in France. They launched an infertility awareness week and recently lobbied for paid time off for infertility-related appointments, such as tests and procedures.

My post today is about writing through infertility and how sharing my story helped me to heal. My piece appears in both English and French and was translated with the generous help of Life Without Baby reader, Lara. You can read my post—Writing My Way Through Infertility—here.

Bamp.fr would really like to expand their reach to women who have come to the end of their infertility paths and are looking for the kind of support and community we offer here. If you happen to speak French and would like to write on the topic of living childless-not-by-choice, please get in touch as they would love to have more voices speaking out.

*A note: Many of the articles on Bamp.fr are aimed at women still trying to conceive and some of you may find this triggering. Most articles are in French, however one or two have been translated to English.

Claiming Your Right to Grieve

Self-compassionDealing with grief is a topic I find myself talking about again and again. It’s one of the most overlooked and misunderstood aspects of coming to terms with a life without children. It’s such a critical part of healing that I devoted four entire chapters to it in my new book.
Today, I’m paying a virtual visit to Mali at No Kidding in NZ to talk about this topic of giving ourselves permission to grieve in our own way. Mali has been a long time supporter of Life Without Baby and you’ve no doubt already met her in the comments section.

During our e-mail exchanges, we talked about the grieving process and how our experiences have made us more compassionate to other people who have suffered losses. I suppose it’s one of the silver linings to this story.

You can find my post on Mali’s blog today (which is really tomorrow in New Zealand). Please drop in and say hi to her. I know she’d love to hear from you on her turf, so to speak.

 

Writing Through Infertility with Justine Brooks Froelker

Today I’m talking to Justine Brooks Froelker, founder of Ever Upward.

After spending a year in a body cast as a young woman, Justine was told that pregnancy would not be a safe option. She tells her story of struggle, hope, and recovery in Ever Upward: Overcoming the Lifelong Losses of Infertility to Define Your Own Happy Ending.

I spoke to Justine about Life Without Baby and how writing helped me to heal. You can read our interview at EverUpward.org.

 

Femmes Sans Enfant: Women Without Children

cat6-1060x460I’m very pleased to introduce you to my host for today’s blog tour stop.

Catherine-Emmanuelle Delisle went through one of my workshops a couple of years ago and, after it was over, decided to start her own French-language support community.  Within two years her site, Femmes Sans Enfant, won a well-deserved Canadian Blog Award in the category of Activism and Social Justice.

Today she shares a video of a story I performed a number of years ago about my experience with infertility. It’s interesting to me to see the person I was then—still fighting to keep my emotions under control, but beginning to find the courage to speak—to the person I am today.

Even if your French is a little rusty, please hop over to Femmes Sans Enfant and lend your support to Catherine-Emmanuelle and her work.

Introducing an Incredible Community of Women

Lisa _Book1Today is Publication Day!

My new book, Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen is making its debut today and I’m so pleased to be able to share it with you. It’s chock full of everything I’ve learned on this long, sometimes rocky, path to making peace with a life without children.

Perhaps the most important lesson I’ve learned since deciding to walk away from the possibility of motherhood is that none of us needs to go through this alone. Even though I once felt as if I was the only person this had ever happened to, I quickly learned that there is a generous and supportive community of women out there. And I’d like to introduce you to some of them.

Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll be visiting some of my favorite bloggers around the world. I hope you’ll come with me to discover some new resources and to meet some truly remarkable women.

I’m kicking off my tour today with a trip to Australia, where I join Michelle Marie McGrath on her Unclassified Woman podcast. Michelle has put together a fantastic series of interviews with childless and childfree women from around the world. We spoke about dealing with grief, debunking myths about childlessness, and about the healing power of writing and other creative pursuits.

Michelle will also be giving away of copy of my book, so we sure to tune in for your chance.

You can listen to the podcast here.

Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen

By Lisa Manterfield

Lisa _Book1I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I first acknowledged that motherhood would not be part of my future. The idea started as a knot in the pit of my stomach, a fleeting thought of “What if this doesn’t happen for me?” It put out little tendrils of doubt that manifested in sadness and frustration that I couldn’t get this thing I wanted so much. But even as doctors shook their heads and test results showed over and over again that I could not conceive, the idea that I would never be a mother was unimaginable, and the possibility that it might not happen was drowned out by hope and my blind determination that, if I just kept trying, it would all work out in the end.

But it wasn’t naïve denial that kept me pursuing my dream of motherhood. It was the completely blank canvas of the unknown that lay beyond if I made the decision to give up. I had no idea what the future would hold for me, and it was easier to stay in that awful place of painful possibility than to cut my losses and step into an uncertain future. Despite being surrounded by loving friends and family, I felt completely lost and alone, carrying around with me a deep grief that had no outlet. I’d never met anyone like me before, and I didn’t know where to turn for help or even what kind of help I might need. I didn’t even realize I needed help. I just pushed along on my own, taking it one day at a time, and trying to figure out how I was ever going to make peace with the enormous loss I felt. I honestly wasn’t sure I ever would.

Book_CoverIt was a long process that didn’t come with a roadmap. There were no books to guide me through the process and no one to help me understand the sadness and confusion of losing something that I’d never had in the first place. I wrote about what I was going through, first in a journal, then as exercises in a writer’s workshop, which became chapters of a memoir. When I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood was published in 2010, I felt as if I was laying out all my shortcomings for the world to see—assuming anyone would actually read it. But a funny thing happened: As I began to write publicly, in the book and on this blog, I found you, a community of women—each with her own unique story—all struggling with the same issues and trying to find acceptance in the life you’d been dealt. For the first time, I felt as if I wasn’t stumbling through this alone.

Some you are like me and have dealt with infertility and never been pregnant, while others have suffered miscarriages or delivered stillborn babies. Some of you have dealt with health issues that forced you into a decision not to pursue motherhood, and others are dusting yourselves off after the blow of a failed adoption. Some of you have watched your dreams of motherhood dashed as the search for the right mate kept turning up the wrong man. Others have found yourselves facing divorce or the death of a spouse, or a partner who had a change of heart about parenthood. Each of you has your own story about how you came to find yourself watching the window of opportunity for motherhood slowly close—and yet we all share so many common issues. What I’ve discovered through you is that, when I wrote openly about the tangled emotions and “crazy” thoughts I’ve had, you keep responding with “Me too.”

I realize how important it is to walk this path with others who’ve been there and how sharing my story helps me to feel normal again. I’ve learned a lot from my own experience and from your comments on this site. I’ve come to understand the importance of grieving something that never existed, even if my immediate family and closest friends couldn’t fully understand my loss. I’ve learned the value of a compassionate community and the power of knowing I am not alone. I’ve also learned to look forward toward a future I hadn’t planned and to find joy and passion in my life again. I’ve learned not just how to survive, but how to thrive in a life without children.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve been collecting all that I’ve learned into a book. I’ve released sections in the Life Without Baby Workbook series and now (drumroll, please!) the complete book is finally finished!

It’s called Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen, and it’s available March 7 in both print and digital formats. (You can pre-order the ebook version here if you want to be among the first to get a copy.)

So before I get too wrapped up in all that’s involved with publishing and promoting a book, I wanted to say a big thank you to all of you—for your ongoing support, for teaching so much about myself, and for taking such good care of one another. I am truly honored to be part of this community.

Holiday Blues and a Celebration

By Lisa Manterfield

That’s me, learning to sail.

Every year it seems I get caught out with a bout of the Holiday Blues.

After a really fun and non-traditional Thanksgiving with wonderful friends, I headed into December ready to celebrate the holidays my way. Then Bam! I came down with the Holiday Blues.

There will always be things I wish were part of my festive season, like hand-delivering gifts to my family, shopping for small children, and creating the kind of Christmas I had as a child. But it wasn’t theses losses and what-ifs that gave me the blues this year.

Maybe it was the rainy weather that kept me indoors for much of the week. Maybe it was the end of year racing towards me highlighting the things that didn’t get accomplished this year. Or maybe it’s that Christmas doesn’t really feel like something to celebrate anymore.

Finally, I took my own advice, and that of a couple of friends, and dusted myself off. I bought a tree, made plans for Christmas Eve dinner at a favorite restaurant, and wrote and sent my cards. And then I made myself a cup of tea and sliced off a chunk of proper English fruitcake, and I curled up in a chair and wrote in my journal.

I made a list of everything good that happened this year—all the fun things I did (see photo, for one), the challenges I overcame, the goals I reached this year, the friends I spent time with, the family I visited.

And guess what I discovered? It’s been another great year this year. I have lived my life, perhaps not always to the fullest, but to the best that I was able. And I had a good time doing it.

That, I think, is plenty of reason to celebrate.

Whiny Wednesday: Spouses Not Dealing

Whiny_WednesdayHappy Whiny Wednesday! I hope you’re doing okay today. If not, this is the place to get it off your chest.

This week we turn to spotlight on the men in our lives and discuss the topic of:

Spouses or partners who aren’t dealing or healing

If you have one of these, we’d like to hear to about it.

Resetting Holiday Expectations

By Lisa Manterfield

Christmas Stockings Hanging over FireplaceRecently a friend posted this question of Facebook:

“Are you the adult you dreamed of becoming?”

I laughed when I read it. No! Of course I’m not. The adult I dreamed of was an international engineering consultant, living in a large house with a circular driveway, with a fabulous husband and four beautiful children, including one set of twins.

Aside from the fabulous husband, that adult is almost the polar opposite of the adult I am now. I’m a writer, who works from my very small rented beach cottage, and of course, there are no children in my picture. And yet, once I stop to consider my friend’s question, I realize that I’m a lot happier as this adult than I would have been had my expectations been met. I’ve met the person I’d once dreamed of becoming; she wasn’t a very happy person and she definitely had more grey hairs than me.

Half the battle of coming-to-terms with a life without children is letting go of our expectations—and creating new ones. This is never more true than during the holiday season, one of the most difficult times of the year to be childless.

When I think of my expectations of what Christmas should be like as an adult, those four children are always there, gathered around the tree, gathered around the dinner table, and then gathered around me as the day comes to a close. Even when I realized that children wouldn’t be part of my life, I still strived to make Christmas live up to my expectations. Consequently, Christmastime was very sad time for a number of years. I knew there was no way my expectations could be met, and eventually I stopped making an effort to celebrate.

The worst year was when my husband and I found ourselves sitting at home, with no Christmas tree, no plans, no celebration, and we knew we’d allowed our lack of children to take over our lives. We also realized it was time to set new, more realistic expectations.

When I took a step back and looked at what I really wanted for Christmas, not on the surface of gifts, family, and decorations, but on a deeper emotional level, I discovered that my spiritual wish list included love, peacefulness, companionship, and a good dose of silly fun. I needed to explore new ways to get what I really wanted.

It took a couple of false starts to find a new way to celebrate Christmas, but a couple of years ago we nailed it. Mr. Fab and I rented an apartment for three days in a nearby beach town. We celebrated on Christmas Eve with a lovely dinner at an historic hotel with an enormous Christmas tree, roving carolers, and even an outdoor ice rink (in Southern California!). On Christmas Day, instead of sitting at home feeling sad about a pathetic Christmas for two, we went to the zoo, like a couple of big kids, and had a whale of a time. I even got to feed a rhino and have an ice cream. We both agreed it was the best Christmas we’ve had for a long time, plus there were no tantrums or mountains of dirty dishes to deal with.

It’s hard to let go of our expectations, especially when they’re often so deeply engrained, but if you’re struggling to find your holiday cheer this year, I encourage you to look beneath the obvious losses and examine what’s really missing for you. Even if you can’t meet your tangible expectations of what the holidays should be, you might be surprised to find you can satisfy your true needs in unconventional—and unexpected—ways.

I sat down recently with Jody Day of Gateway Women to talk about how we’ve adjusted our expectations and reclaimed the holidays. You can find the interview at Gateway Women.