It’s Whiny Wednesday and this is one that always makes me scratch my head:
“Kids made me grow up.”
So, does this mean I’m not a grown-up? Because if so, I’d like to relinquish all these grown-up responsibilities I seem to have. How about you?
Whiny Wednesday: Other People’s Perfect Lives
Facebook has been the topic of many Whiny Wednesday rants, and rightly so. Social media in general has perpetuated a myth of happiness that can make any kind of pain feel worse. So this week, our topic is this:
“Other People’s Perfect Lives”
Let us know how you feel.
The Lost Tribe of Childless Women: Jody Day’s TED Talk
One of my greatest pleasures in running this site has been to watch the slow emergence of infertility and childlessness from the shadows. What was once a taboo topic and something most of us would never dream about discussing publicly is gradually making its way into broader channels. The private blogs written under pen names have become public and been picked up by outlets such as Huffington Post and New York Times. Celebrity infertiles have spoken up about their experiences, and the idea that not all infertility stories end with a child is slowly creeping its way into the public consciousness.
Although we still have a long way to go, we took a giant step forward recently when Gateway Women’s Jody Day took her story—and ours— to that very public stage, the TED Talk.
With her usual frankness and wit, Jody debunked many of the myths surrounding childless women, and made a crucial point for our tribe: We just want to be acknowledged and understood.
Here’s Jody’s talk. Enjoy.
It Got Me Thinking…About Wishes for a Flea-Free Life
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
At a dinner not long ago, I shared some of the challenges we’ve faced with the raccoons that moved into our dining room wall. Yes, inside the wall. Damages to the vents, the doors, the walls. The fleas that have infested our laundry room and left me with itchy red bites all over my legs. Loud noises keeping us up all night. The costs of catching these critters and relocating them to wooded areas nearby. (We live in a big city, for Pete’s sake!)
I fielded questions about how they got in, how their nocturnal activities are making our dog go crazy, and what sounds they make (kind of a mewing by the babies, and a hissing-screech by the adults). But the question that stopped me in my tracks came from a nine-year-old:
“Wait…what’s a flea?”
He’d never seen one, never been bitten, never almost lost mind trying to end the onslaught by employing collars, sprays, high-pitched noise-emitting machines (those were the worst—and useless), dips, and bombs. And I hope he never does.
It’s unrealistic for me to expect that his life will be pain-free, but as I thought about how blissfully unaware of fleas he is right now, I allowed myself to think of other things I’d like my young friend to be free of:
Loneliness
Infertility
Ostracism
Bigotry
Bullying
Prejudice
Poverty – of pocket and spirit
We LWBers endure a lot of grief about being childless or childfree. Today, I wish you a different kind of –less and –free. I wish you a day of peace, of belonging, and of joy.
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: Everything Happens for a Reason
We could easily compile an entire encyclopedia of unhelpful, and even hurtful, things people have said to us. I think this one stings as much as any:
“Everything Happens for a Reason”
Do you agree? Or do you have your own favorite “helpful” slight?
Our Stories: Lynn
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“I am on the swim up, but I haven’t broken the surface yet,” Lynn* says, in answer to where she is on her journey. “At the same time, I feel scared to break free of it, to let it go. I feel stuck; I’m scared to turn the corner.”
Now 41, she’s been on the infertility/ran out of time rollercoaster for several years. Although she’s starting to make peace with her path, she continues to wrestle with the heartbreaking losses of the dream of holding her newborn and looking into familiar eyes in a new face, the memories that will never be made, and “all of the love that I have to give to that child that will never be given.”
Yet she continues to look for hope. “Some people come out the other end of this situation and say that they now know how strong they are, and that they can get through anything,” she says. “What I am learning is that I can survive, and that it’s okay to feel all of it. It’s even okay to be weak sometimes.”
After reading her story, I hope you’ll reach out to her in the comments. Perhaps you can share with her your own answer to the last question.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Lynn: I can’t honestly say that I spent my younger years yearning to be a mom like so many women do. I did want children, but it always seemed like a goal for the next phase of my life: when I was a little older, when I had a better job, when I had a husband, etc. I had a long-term boyfriend in my early 20s, and I wanted to get married and start a family, but he was not interested. I did finally leave him and spent the next 10 years being very single. By the time I was in my mid-30s, I was overwhelmed by the desire to be a mom. I had spent so many years concentrating on my job and dating, but I felt no purpose in my life. Most of the men I dated were a mess, and I started to doubt that I would ever find something real. I met my husband when I was 38, and he was definitely worth the wait. We started trying to get pregnant even before we got married, then quickly learned it was not going to be an easy road for us. We did all of the drugs, intrauterine insemination (IUI), and then in vitro fertilization (IVF).
LWB: Where are you on your journey now? (for example: still in denial, angry, hoping for a miracle, depressed, crawling toward acceptance, embracing Plan B)
Lynn: Can I be all of these things at once? (LOL) I guess I am crawling toward acceptance, but still struggling with a little bit of depression. And I would be lying if I said that I didn’t harbor a secret hope for a miracle way down deep inside of me.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Lynn: Not sure I have totally hit that yet, but we did a round of IVF a little over a year ago. They were only able to harvest one egg, and although it looked good at first, it didn’t end up taking. We have thought about using an egg donor, but my husband is not willing to put us in $25,000 worth of debt to do it. At our age, we wouldn’t have that paid off until retirement (if we were lucky enough to pay it off at all).
I had an early miscarriage a few months ago. It was the first time in my entire life I had ever been pregnant. It came and went quickly, and it has been awful. I had just started down the road to acceptance, and then it happened. After fighting the anger, depression, and heartache of not being able to have a child, there is a part of me that wants to come up out of the depths of all of this and see what the next part of my life is going to look like.
LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?
Lynn: My husband and I are seeing a counselor, and she told me that I am grieving and that it’s so important to try to channel the emotions I have into something healthy and constructive. I have been journaling a lot, and it seems to be helping.
LWB: What advice would you like to give to your younger self?
Lynn: Be aware of your fertility and be proactive about it at an earlier age. Don’t just assume that you have forever to make it happen or that because celebrities have children in their 50s or your aunt’s cousin’s mother got pregnant when she was 47 that you can too. It’s harder than you think, and much harder than we are led to believe by our culture and media.
LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?
Lynn: The honesty and empathy shown here is everything. When I read women’s stories and read your posts, I don’t feel alone. Thank you for that.
LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?
Lynn: That I could reach past the survival phase and reach a place where I can thrive. I want to find myself again. I feel like my personality, my “mojo,” has been lost through all of this. I hope my husband and I can start to embrace our lives and celebrate that we found each other. I want us to fully enjoy the rest of our lives together.
LWB: What’s your Plan B?
Lynn: I don’t have one. However, I am in the market for one if you know where I can find one. 🙂
*We allow each contributor to choose another name, if she wishes, to protect her privacy.
What is your Plan B? Or are your wounds so raw that you can’t even imagine a happy future? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, 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.
Did you know 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.
Why I Didn’t “Wait Too Long” to Have Children
By Lisa Manterfield
I was asked once, by a well-intentioned person, if I thought I’d waited too long to start trying to have children. I have to admit that the thought has flitted across my mind on more than one occasion, but once I stop to think it through, I’m able to answer the question with a resounding “No!”
I remember being completely affronted (and rightly so) by a very conservative college professor who told me that the prime age for women to have children was 18. Of course, looking at a chart of fertility vs. age, I now see that he was correct, even if his suggestion that motherhood might be a more suitable choice than college was extremely misguided.
Looking back at my 18-year-old self, it’s hard to imagine what would have happened if that young woman had become a mother. Yes, I know lots of women do it, and I probably would have too, if I’d had to. But thinking about all the upheavals I’ve put myself through, I just cannot imagine that a child would have benefited from having me as an 18-year-old mother. Maybe (maybe) my supposed topnotch fertility at that age would have enabled me to conceive, but it would have been no guarantee of my suitability as a mother.
The truth is, I have absolutely no idea if I was fertile at 18. I assumed that, like many, many women, I would still be fertile at 34, and look how that turned out. There’s no way of knowing how long ago my body decided it wasn’t up to the task of reproducing, and now I’ll never know.
When I look back at the 18-34 years, they were rocky, but good. I had all kinds of experiences that I couldn’t have had if I’d had children to take care for. I went to college—twice—moved to another continent, traveled to many countries, did volunteer work, had fun but unsuitable relationships, changed careers (more than twice), and got to sample adventures not well-matched to motherhood. I certainly don’t feel as if I wasted those years. I wonder if I’d feel the same if I’d been raising children all those years.
So, no, I don’t feel as if I waited too long. I waited until I was ready, and while I waited, I was busy living my life to the fullest, and I don’t consider that wasted time at all.
It Got Me Thinking…About Going For It
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
When I was 43, I trained for and completed my first triathlon. A good friend earned her black belt at 47. A gal I know picked up a paintbrush for the first time after retiring from a decades-long career and became a successful landscape artist in her 70s. Another brave friend and her classmates, representing several decades, showed a gathering of a few hundred guests how real women (with curves) dance traditional hula.
I think our youth-obsessed society is under the misconception that courage is the domain of people under 30. They party, they experiment, they go on reality TV shows. But I disagree. I think real daring rears its beautiful head around the age of 39. I see it in so many of my friends, as they finally pursue long-held dreams or take new risks, whether it be diving out of a plane or going back to school and changing careers. I think it’s a combination of finally letting go of caring what other people think about us, along with renewed desire to try new things and a dash of fatalism—life is too short, let’s do this now!
I also believe we childfree women have a huge advantage. We don’t have to worry about what will happen to the kids if we end up in a cast and pretty much useless for 6 weeks. We don’t worry about embarrassing our teenagers. We have time on our hands and money not earmarked for someone else’s college education.
If you’re looking for inspiration, read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love or Julia Child’s My Life in France, both memoirs of childfree women who took big chances and dramatically reinvented their lives while their peers were shopping for strollers. Or watch Under the Tuscan Sun, Julie & Julia (based in part on Child’s book), or Last Holiday starring Queen Latifah for more stories about childfree women who dedicate their free time and passion to creating beautiful homes, beautiful foods, and beautiful lives.
Get creative, follow your bliss, explore what makes you curious, discover the blessings of a childfree life. This week, I have three words for you: Go For It!
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with her childfree life. Recently she’s been keeping her eyes and heart open to new experiences that might lead to a fulfilling Plan B. For starters, she’s learning how to run longer distances (and actually enjoy it) and grow edible plants (that actually taste good).
Whiny Wednesday
This week’s topic is a doozy:
“Accidental” pregnancies
Go on, tell us how you really feel when a friend, coworker, or sister-in-law drops this bombshell.
Why I Didn’t Adopt After Infertility
By Lisa Manterfield
Following your response this Whiny Wednesday post, I decided to add my own two cents to the adoption discussion.
When I would tell people I didn’t have children and the topic of infertility came up, they would often ask if I’d considered adoption. Can I tell you how hard it was to keep my sarcasm at bay and to not answer, “Adoption? Really? No, I’d never thought about that. I’m so glad you brought it up.”
But now I’m in a better place I can answer that question easily and in a more friendly and helpful way. I’m doing it today, not for those people who want to make sure I’ve thought of every avenue, but for those of you on this site who might be thinking of adoption and wondering why I didn’t do it.
My answer could be very complex and I could talk about how our adoption options were limited by age and finances, about how much more complicated and heart-wrenching the process was than we’d expected, and about how we didn’t have the emotional strength to risk being matched with a child who could be snatched away again in an instant. But having some distance from that time in my life, I see it more simply now.
We didn’t follow through with adoption because we hadn’t yet dealt with the loss dealt by infertility.
During our adoption training we were warned about the importance of resolving our infertility before diving into this new avenue, but at that time, I didn’t want to hear that. Now I think it was perhaps the most important piece of advice we were given. Adoption isn’t the next logical step on an infertility journey; it’s a step off that road and onto another completely different path. But the infertility journey still needs to be brought to a resolution. You still have to work through that grief.
When we ventured into adoption, we didn’t fully understand this. Perhaps if we’d taken some time to heal first, we might have been better equipped to deal with that wild emotional rollercoaster, but we didn’t, and we weren’t, and that’s the way that story went.
I know that some of you are still weighing your options and making some big decisions. My story is unique to me and my opinion is based solely on my experience, but I hope hearing it helps you.
