Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About a Book to Get Us Through to the New Year

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

The holiday season is right around the corner, and with it comes all the regrets, disappointments, slights, heartaches, and painful reminders we thought we’d overcome. Yeah. Right. Having been there, I know there will be some tough days when I’ll find myself sinking back into feeling isolated, lost, cheated, and, yes, crazy.

Fortunately, I (and you) have a role model named Lisa Manterfield, who frequently reminds me that I am not alone. She once stood where I stood on this rocky path, she survived…and now she’s thriving. And she shares her hard-won wisdom in her brilliant book, Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen.

Life Without Baby_Front_book 3DLisa is a gentle and supportive guide, and she shares from her own experiences, from the workshops she’s led, and from the stories and tips LWB readers have passed along. She says this is the book she wishes she’d found when she first had to acknowledge she wouldn’t have children. Me, too, and as I read through the raw, real, and practical advice she’s included, I’ve found there’s something for every step of the journey.

You may have wounds so raw, you’re not sure how you’ll ever breathe again, let alone hold your composure during your nephew’s first Christmas. Lisa’s exercises will help you actively work through the stages of grief and arm yourself against social landmines, like the office holiday party when everyone talks about their kids. Maybe you’re feeling closer to accepting being childfree-not-by-choice, but haven’t the faintest idea what the heck you’re going to do with the rest of your life. Lisa’s got some suggestions for how you might thrive in a new happily ever after of your own design. And you don’t have to wait for January 1st to get started! Throughout, Lisa breaks open taboos and addresses the very real emotions and challenges we face every day, while offering understanding, support, and encouragement.

I know this because I had the privilege of editing Lisa’s book. After I finished the work, I tabbed several pages that spoke to me and highlighted exercises I wanted to revisit. Yes, even after all the work I’ve done to make peace with my given path, I still found there are some tender spots that need attention and resolution. Lisa’s book is helping me, and I believe there’s something in there that will help you too.

So, might I suggest the first item on your gift shopping list is one for yourself? Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen is available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle versions.

 

This holiday season, Kathleen Guthrie Woods is wishing for peace on earth, as well as a bit more peace about her childfree status.

It Got Me Thinking…About Making the “Choice” to Be Childless

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A while back, I received an e-mail from an LWBer I’ll call “Kim” who was struggling to find her place in our community. She hadn’t been through infertility, nor had she made a conscious choice to not be a parent. Instead, she’d held out for Mr. Right and married a man she loved—who didn’t want children. It wasn’t exactly my story, but I could relate to much of it. I shared my response with Lisa, and she asked me to consider sharing it with other LWB readers.

If you see yourself in here, I hope you’ll find some encouragement, some support. I hope you’ll feel—maybe for the first time—that you are not alone.

Dear Kim,

I am so sorry to hear of your losses and sorrows. I get it! Our paths are similar.

First, congratulations on your recent marriage! I, too, held out for love, which meant I got married in my 40s. My husband was worth the wait.

Second, a bit of my own story: I went through a long process (mid-30s to early 40s) of exploring whether or not I could/wanted to have a child on my own, and ultimately decided it wasn’t something I could do. It still irks me when people accuse me of making the “choice” to be childfree, when I feel in my heart that this destiny was forced on me in so many ways. Like you, I wanted to be a mom and I would have been a great mom. So not fair!

By the time I met my husband-to-be, I was starting to come to terms with the facts that my age and health were not in my favor for bearing and raising children. Sure, I could have tried every medical miracle, but with what results? I couldn’t do it. When I knew we were at a defining point in our relationship, I sat my then-boyfriend down, ready to set him free if he wanted children, because I knew I couldn’t offer him any guarantees. It came as somewhat of a relief, then, when he told me he never wanted kids.

However…that doesn’t mean we don’t have moments of “What if…?”

You asked how other women in your—in our—shoes are “living with it.” I’m sitting here at my desk trying to think of the best answers to give you, the real answers. It’s not easy, Kim. There are days when I love my life just as it is, when I celebrate that one of the reasons my husband and I have such an amazing relationship is because we are not having to divide our energies and attentions to take care of children. We spend our weekends together, even if it’s just running errands or watching Law and Order reruns on TV. We aren’t driving in different directions to attend soccer and Little League games. We are the last couple on the dance floor at wedding receptions because our friends who are parents have gone home to relieve babysitters or because they’re exhausted from all their obligations. These are blessed days indeed.

And then…and then…Halloween comes around and I want to stay in bed and cry about all the joyful events I’ve missed and will miss. I have to talk myself into decorating for the Christmas holidays because there are no little ones to revel in the magic, no one with whom I can share precious traditions. I lied to a friend a few weeks ago, a friend I love, because I couldn’t bear to go to her baby shower. I will love her child, we will be part of her child’s life, but I just couldn’t sit in a room full of women who got what I so desperately wanted.

In between, I lean heavily upon the wisdom and experience of our sisters on LWB. Sometimes I can offer the words of encouragement and support; other times it’s me who needs to be picked up off the floor. I encourage you to spend some time familiarizing yourself with the resources on the site. Yes, many of the women are here because of infertility, but we can still learn from each other how to move through this and forward into new life paths.

Melanie Notkin of Savvy Auntie has coined the phrase “circumstantially infertile.” I personally hate the term, but it makes sense to me. She is childfree for the same reasons we are (and I believe she’s still single) and has turned her experience into being an auntie advocate. I encourage you to check out her site. From my own experience, I will add that being “the fun aunt” has its advantages.

I also have learned a lot from Jody Day’s book, Living the Life Unexpected (also available on Amazon). She has a site called Gateway Women. I know Jody (also circumstantially infertile) has groups around the world, so you might check if there’s one near you. If not, maybe you’re the woman to start one? There are also several forums online on the LWB site. Find a topic that speaks to you and jump in.

Finally, I want to remind you that healing takes time. Please be gentle with yourself, Kim.

With my best wishes,

Kathleen

 

Kathleen would love to hear and possibly share your story. You can reach her at [email protected], or visit the Our Stories page to download the questionnaire for the Our Stories column.

 

Whiny Wednesday: Missing Out on Parenting Milestones

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 the milestones of being parents and grandparents.


As always, your other whines are always welcome.

Whiny Wednesday

It’s the sister who every time she sees you asks, “So are you…?” The aunt who asks at every big holiday gathering, “When are you going to…?” Or the mother-in-law who passive-aggressively wonders out loud when “Someone” is going to make her a grandmother. You know,

That one relative who just can’t let it go.

Got one? Tell us about him or her, then tell us what you’d like to say back.

It Got Me Thinking…About Social Media Holidays

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I should know better. After all these years of seeking advice and giving advice, I should be better able to maneuver through triggering holidays with some grace.

I started Easter Sunday out strong. Instead of subjecting myself to a family-focused church service, I observed the holy day by talking a long walk in a glorious park, what my grandmother called “God’s church.” I avoided brunches in places where I was likely to be surrounded by more happy family gatherings. My husband, dog, and I enjoyed a quiet and reflective day.

Until I turned on Facebook. Egg hunts, colorful baskets overflowing with sweet treats, the Easter Bunny at the mall, proud grandparents, church pews filled with generations of family members, little darlings all dressed up in spring finery. I was crushed as I scrolled through the images of things I’ll never enjoy.

The mother of all holidays is upon us in the United States this week. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to take a break from social media in the days leading up to it and the days following. Please, don’t test yourself, don’t torture yourself.

If it’s an especially tough day for you this year, check in here at LWB and reach out to others on one of the Forums under Community (you’ll need to sign in). Read older blog posts for inspiration and encouragement. Most of all, be gentle with yourself.

 

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

Happy New Year

I hope you got through the holiday weekend intact. Feel free to use to the comments section if you need to blow off a little steam.

Kathleen and I are taking this week off to get some rest and regroup for 2017. We’ll be back after the New Year with plans to get you through the coming year. (And there will be a Whiny Wednesday post this week. I couldn’t let you down.)

Thank you for hanging out with us this year. I have enjoyed getting to know you and watching the wonderful support you offer one another. I look forward to catching up for you in 2017.

For now, wishing you a very happy New Year.

Why I’m Already Looking Forward to a Happy New Year

why-im-already-looking-forward-to-a-happy-new-year

My overarching message around the holidays has always been this:

Do what you need to do to protect yourself when your emotions are still raw. Back out of the holidays all together, if that’s what feels right. Create new traditions that suit who you are now. And most of all, hang in there, because it does get easier, and eventually you’ll find a way to make the holidays joyful again.

But, this year, I want to make an amendment. Because, the truth is, for some of you, the holidays might keep sucking for a long, long time, and my being all Pollyanna about it, isn’t going to change that.

For years, I have followed my own guidelines for holiday survival. After a couple of years of trying to force the Christmas spirit, we chose to opt out of Christmas because it was too sad. Then, for a number of years, we made a point of going away and doing something totally non-traditional. It wasn’t “Christmas” as I’d envisioned it, but it felt right for us, and we enjoyed the season again.

I thought I had a different attitude about Christmas this year. Mr. Fab and I are staying at home, just the two of us, and keeping it low key. We put up a tree and decorated the house. I even wrote about how special that was in a post on my author site. We’ll keep up our new tradition of celebrating on Christmas Eve and it will be a “nice” Christmas, not perfect, but good enough.

Over the past week, I’ve talked to several friends, fellow bloggers who, like me, are several years into being at peace with not having children. They each talked about plans for a quiet celebration, of an adapted holiday experience. And each of them also added that some part of their plans had triggered the old sadness or poked at a tender spot. Not one of us gushed about the jingly joyful celebration we were planning. Instead, we talk of an “almost-but-not-quite” Christmas.

As I was rooting around in my mind, trying to find a point to this post, I suddenly thought about my dad. My dad hated Valentine’s Day, not because of the commercial tackiness, but because his own father had died on February 14th. Even two decades later, he couldn’t find joy in the day, and none of us expected him to. I tiptoed around him and, by February 15th, he was his old self again. As a young girl, hoping to get Valentines in the mail, I couldn’t understand why my dad felt this way. But, of course, I understand it fully now.

I stand by all my guidelines about the holidays: It does get easier. You will find a way to get through the holidays and even enjoy them again. But, odds are, they will always tap a sore spot and serve as a reminder of what’s missing. It might always be “almost-but-not-quite” Christmas.

But, before you know it, it will be January again, a new year and a fresh chance to live the life you do have to its fullest. I don’t know about you, but the New Year is fast becoming my favorite holiday of all.

It Got Me Thinking…About Holiday Slights

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

“Come One, Come All!” trumpets the headline.

I’m skimming the special calendar section of our local paper and find myself drawn into a description of a holiday spectacular and crafts fair, featuring actors as classic Dickens characters and carolers strolling in Victorian dress as they sing in the season. I am so there!

But then I read the small print: “Revelers (that’s me!), particularly families (uh, wait), are invited to enjoy the festivities.” It’s possible I’m being over-sensitive, but I am so sick and tired of slights like this, and it seems to strike an especially painful chord with me as we approach the holiday season. The “Family Sing-Along” at church. The “Family Pot-Luck” intended to bring coworkers closer together. The “Family Movie Night,” where multiple generations come together to enjoy a touching holiday-themed film. I love love love all of these fun activities, and will participate even though I’m not a 5-year-old, even though I am not part of a “family.” It’s sad to me, though, that my revelry is diminished by the sting of not feeling legitimately part of the event, all because of a marketing choice.

While I don’t want to get PC (politically correct) to the point of ridiculousness, I’d like to suggest to the world that there are other ways to welcome everyone without making single and/or childfree people feel…well…unwelcome. “Fun for all ages!” “Something for everyone!” The marketers for the fair had me at “Come One, Come All!” I wish they’d left it at that.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. “Mele Kalikimaka” might be her favorite Christmas carol.

Earlier this week, Kathleen spoke to the wonderful Cathy Broadwell about the pressures faced by women without children. You can hear the interview on Cathy’s brand new Slow Swimmers and Fried Eggs podcast.

Whiny Wednesday: The Holidays

Whiny WednesdayEven the most festive among us has to hit holiday burnout at some point. And if you’re trying drum up your holiday spirit and keep coming up empty, you may have hit this point sometime around Halloween.

So this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is simply:

The Holidays

Feel free to unleash your inner Grinch…or not.

Resetting Holiday Expectations

By Lisa Manterfield

Christmas Stockings Hanging over Fireplace“Are you the adult you dreamed of becoming?”

I laughed when I read this question on Facebook. 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.

Last Christmas, I sat down 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.