Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About Our Safe Haven

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

A few years back, Lisa and I first released Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of LWB posts designed to support our readers through this dicey season. Since I was heading into a whirlwind of social events—with family, friends, coworkers, and total strangers—I armed myself for the questions and comments I knew were coming.

Q: What’s your book about? A: Deep breath… “It’s inspiration and encouragement for women who wanted to have children, but didn’t get to, to help them get through the holidays” …please be nice to me.

Q: Are there really women who need this? A: Deep breath, this is a teaching opportunity, don’t be a bitch… “Let me tell you a few stories I’ve heard from women who are childfree-not-by-choice about how challenging the holidays are for them. For example, one woman just had her third miscarriage and is devastated. She’ll be with her in-laws, and she knows they’ll bombard her with questions about why, for Pete’s sake, she’s waiting so long to give them grandchildren.”

Q: You have a book out? How exciting to see your labors rewarded with the birth of your book! I imagine it’s like the anticipation of all those months of pregnancy and you finally get to welcome and celebrate the arrival of your precious child! A: Uh…I got nothing.

As exhausting as some of these exchanges are (and sometimes they are, eventually, funny to me), I feel deeply humbled when someone hears what I write about, then leans in and whispers, “That’s my story.” I have been privileged to be able to truly listen as women, and a few men, share their very personal stories with me about loves and losses, heartbreaks, dreams, and hopes. I have offered sympathy, bits of gentle advice, and most of all, understanding.

You may have been at the receiving end of some insensitive questions and comments this month, and it’s my hope that you have had someone near you to soften the blows. Meanwhile, I encourage you to use this website: share your stories in Comments, join discussions in the Forums, draw strength and courage from other LWBers, and allow yourself this safe haven. For here, we get it. We get you.

 

Life Without Baby Holiday Companion, a collection of classic blog posts that offer inspiration and encouragement for getting through the season when you’re childfree-not-by-choice, is available here on our site and on Amazon.

It Got Me Thinking…About the Sisterhood of Childfree Women

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods 
“You are not alone.”

I think those might be four of the most beautiful words in our language.

Not long ago, I was a single, childfree woman who felt like the last single and childfree woman on the planet—or at least among my circle of friends. I rarely talked about my sadness, my isolation, my desperation, and my fears that I would never be a member of the mommy club with my peers. Instead, I pasted a smile on my face and stuffed myself into puffy bridesmaids gowns and nodded with feigned understanding as mommies shared their birthing and child rearing stories at baby showers. It is possible to feel completely alone in a room full of people.

I credit our amazing founder Lisa Manterfield with opening my eyes to a new world of possibilities. Through her and the LifeWithoutBaby site, I became acquainted with Pamela Tsigdinos, author of Silent Sorority; Melanie Notkin, the Savvy Auntie; and Jody Day at Gateway Women. I was introduced to our cheroes (heroes who just happen to be childfree), including Oprah Winfrey, Marilyn Monroe, Sally Ride, Mary Cassatt, and Julie Taymor. Getting to know more about these women has shown me that a childfree life can indeed be exciting and fulfilling.

What has touched my heart the most is how women just like me have shared their stories and offered support. As I’ve (cautiously) begun to tell women outside of our circle my story, I’ve been amazed at the candid responses: “I never really wanted children…I love being an aunt and that’s enough for me…You are so brave and you inspire me…I’ve never told anyone this, but….” Wow. Once I opened myself up, women from all corners of my life opened up to me and told previously undisclosed stories of infertility battles, adoption disasters, and hurtful discrimination—stories we hear on this site every day. All of these experiences have served to remind me that while the circumstances that brought us here may be different, our passion for living our lives to the fullest is a common denominator. I am humbled to be included in these discussions, and awed to sometimes recognize that I have been the catalyst.

If you’re feeling alone, I encourage you to explore this site more fully and look for topics and stories that resonate with you. There are many resources available here. There’s wonderful support and encouragement here. You are—and I am—not alone. Embrace it.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up a memoir about her experiences as a temporary single working mom, an adventure that helped her come to peace with her decision to be childfree.

It Got Me Thinking…About Big Girl Meltdowns, Holiday Edition

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

Girl ThinkingMeltdowns are no fun, and they’re especially painful when they happen in public.

Last year, I attended a friend’s daughter’s first dance recital. It was beautiful, it was funny, it was entertaining. Nothing cracks me up quite like a row of four-year-olds in pink tutus doing their best to tap on a beat.

Except this time I wasn’t laughing. Every tiny dancer made me long for the one I could have had, should have had. I sat in the semi-darkened theater, surrounded by parents, grandparents, siblings, and every form of video camera and cried. Big tears rolled down my cheeks, my nose ran like a fire hose, and when the lights came up, I doubt anyone thought my swollen face was due to seasonal allergies.

I took my first dance class when I was five and tapped, kicked, twirled, and leapt my way through childhood. I loved the magic, the music, the costumes, and even the discipline. I looked forward to one day watching my own daughter glide across a stage, and as I watched my young friend steal the show, I thought about how sad I was to to miss sharing these experiences with a mini-me.

’Tis the season of holiday performances: children’s choirs, reenactments of the nativity (I love Lisa’s description of the drive-through nativity she discovered a few years ago), pageants, caroling, The Nutcracker. I loved them all when I had parts in them, and I still love them. It’s just a little bit harder these days to keep my emotions to myself when I’m in the midst of the family fun.

So, if you notice a gal sniffling in row 12 during the curtain call, kindly pass her a tissue.

The holiday festivities can bring up all sorts of painful emotions when you’re childfree-not-by-choice. If you could use some inspiration and encouragement to get you through the tough times, check out the Life Without Baby Holiday Companion available here and on Amazon.

It Got Me Thinking…About Big Girl Meltdowns, Holiday Edition

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

Girl ThinkingMeltdowns are no fun, and they’re especially painful when they happen in public.

Recently I attended a friend’s daughter’s first dance recital. It was beautiful, it was funny, it was entertaining. Nothing cracks me up quite like a row of four-year-olds in pink tutus doing their best to tap on a beat.

Except this time I wasn’t laughing. Every tiny dancer made me long for the one I could have had, should have had. I sat in the semi-darkened theater, surrounded by parents, grandparents, siblings, and every form of video camera and cried. Big tears rolled down my cheeks, my nose ran like a fire hose, and when the lights came up, I doubt anyone thought my swollen face was due to seasonal allergies.

I took my first dance class when I was five and tapped, kicked, twirled, and leapt my way through childhood. I loved the magic, the music, the costumes, and even the discipline. I looked forward to one day watching my own daughter glide across a stage, and as I watched my young friend steal the show, I thought about how sad I was to to miss sharing these experiences with a mini-me.

’Tis the season of holiday performances: children’s choirs, reenactments of the nativity (I love Lisa’s description of the drive-through nativity she discovered a few years ago), pageants, caroling, The Nutcracker. I loved them all when I had parts in them, and I still love them. It’s just a little bit harder these days to keep my emotions to myself when I’m in the midst of the family fun.

So, if you notice a gal sniffling in row 12 during the curtain call, kindly pass her a tissue.

 

The holiday festivities can bring up all sorts of painful emotions when you’re childfree-not-by-choice. If you could use some inspiration and encouragement to get you through the tough times, check out the Life Without Baby Holiday Companion available here and on Amazon.

All I Want for 2014 is…

2014This is absolutely my favorite time of year. The madness (and sometimes, sadness) of the holidays is behind us and it’s time to look forward to a brand new year.

I love the New Year. I love making plans, taking a little time to do some walking and dreaming, creating a picture of what I want my life to look like the following year. I always set some pretty lofty goals and sometimes I even reach them! But the thrill for me is not in checking accomplishments off my list (although I enjoy that, too) but in taking a deep breath and realigning my life to how I’d like it to be.

Among the cards I received over the holidays were a several (I was surprised how many) photo cards from friends who are also childfree. I really enjoyed seeing their adventures and travels, and although I’ll admit to a touch of envy, I was also glad to see photographic evidence that these women had worked their way through their loss and grief and were living life to the fullest again. Their photos also prompted me to move some of my old passions (travel and hiking, for example) higher up my list next year.

If you’re in the thick of grief, looking ahead to a rosy future can feel impossible, and even when the healing begins, you can sometimes find that you’ve lost touch with who you really are and who you’d like to be again.

One of the most encouraging weeks during last year’s Road Map to Healing workshop was after we’d discussed the topic of finding yourself again. So many participants said they’d pushed aside old passions during the baby quest, and it was so fun to see all the amazing things people had once loved to do that were about to be dusted off again. Some people loved singing, reading, writing, traveling, even trampolining. Their ideas made me think about bringing some of my own former hobbies back into my life again. I’d like to encourage you to do the same.

If you’re thinking there’s no way you’re getting on a pair of rollerskates again, I suggest thinking about how your old favorite hobby made you feel; what was it about rollerskating (for example) that you loved so much. Is there a way to recreate those old feelings in a new hobby? If your rollerskates gave you freedom and if you loved the feel of the wind in your hair, can you get that by riding a bike or taking a long drive with the windows open?

As we step into this brand new year, I encourage you to think about the “you” that got lost and to look for ways to find her again.

If you’re still in the early stages of coming-to-terms and struggling to even keep moving forward some days, let alone think about having fun, consider joining me on the next Road Map to Healing later in January. The program is free and offers plenty of tools to work through some of the most difficult sticking points. If you’re not already on the mailing list, you can sign up here to receive more information when the program begins.

It Got Me Thinking…About Big Girl Meltdowns, Holiday Edition

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

Meltdowns are no fun, and they’re especially painful when they happen in public.

Recently I attended a friend’s daughter’s first dance recital. It was beautiful, it was funny, it was entertaining. Nothing cracks me up quite like a row of four-year-olds in pink tutus doing their best to tap on a beat.

Except this time I wasn’t laughing. Every tiny dancer made me long for the one I could have had, should have had. I sat in the semi-darkened theater, surrounded by parents, grandparents, siblings, and every form of video camera and cried. Big tears rolled down my cheeks, my nose ran like a fire hose, and when the lights came up, I doubt anyone thought my swollen face was due to seasonal allergies.

I took my first dance class when I was five and tapped, kicked, twirled, and leapt my way through childhood. I loved the magic, the music, the costumes, and even the discipline. I looked forward to one day watching my own daughter glide across a stage, and as I watched my young friend steal the show, I thought about how sad I was to to miss sharing these experiences with a mini-me.

’Tis the season of holiday performances: children’s choirs, reenactments of the nativity (I love Lisa’s description of the drive-through nativity she discovered a few years ago), pageants, caroling, The Nutcracker. I loved them all when I had parts in them, and I still love them. It’s just a little bit harder these days to keep my emotions to myself when I’m in the midst of the family fun.

So, if you notice a gal sniffling in row 12 during the curtain call, kindly pass her a tissue.

 

The holiday festivities can bring up all sorts of painful emotions when you’re childfree-not-by-choice. If you could use some inspiration and encouragement to get you through the tough times, check out the Life Without Baby Holiday Companion available here and on Amazon.