Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Our Stories: Charmaine

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesLike many of us, Charmaine envisioned her future children and picked out their names. She was confident she would become a mother “at the right time,” so getting the news that her husband couldn’t have children was devastating. Would she stay in her marriage, or would she go in search of a partner who could (maybe) give her a family? What would you do if you were in her shoes? (And if you are in her shoes, I hope you’ll share some of your journey in the Comments.)

Now 37, Charmaine is still wrestling with the mix of emotions that comes as a result of her choices. Read on to see how she is continuing to learn and grow and create a meaningful life without children.

LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood.

Charmaine: I dreamed of the life we would have as a family. I dreamed that I would do my best to raise my children in ways that were different from how I’d been raised—more compassionate, empathetic, and understanding. I read every baby book I could get my hands on, charted my fertility cycles, and dreamed and dreamed.

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Charmaine: I call myself childfree by circumstance. My husband can’t have children, but it is a choice not to pursue alternative options such as fostering or adoption. It’s been a long, excruciating journey to making that choice, but here we are.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Charmaine: When I seriously considered breaking my “for better or for worse” marriage vows and leaving my husband. My choice was to leave him and (maybe) find someone else to love and have a child with, or stay. I stayed. I can’t imagine loving anyone but him, and for me, betraying someone whom I love and who loves me would break my soul. Deciding not to have children broke my heart, but my soul is intact.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Charmaine: Sometimes I hope for a miracle, but in reality, I’ll be 40 in a couple of years and I’m creating plan B. It’s time to look toward the future and what kind of life I want to live. I want to be happy, so while I am still sad at times, I’m working toward being the kind of person I want to be and living my life the way I want to live it.

LWB: What are the hardest parts for you about not having children?

Charmaine: Losing the majority of my friends who have entered that part of their lives. It’s also difficult to accept the jealousy and anger I still sometimes feel toward people with children. Another is that people just don’t understand why we don’t have kids. Their opinion is that we should move heaven and earth to have kids no matter the emotional, physical, or financial tolls it might take. Feeling like my husband and I are not a “true family” without children is a hard one to get over as well.

LWB: What’s your Plan B?

Charmaine: To become successful in my Grief Recovery and Life Coaching business.  I also want to seek out others who are childless by circumstance and give them the support I never had…because I didn’t know it existed. I couldn’t find anyone else who wasn’t actively TTC [trying to conceive], taking fertility treatments, or adopting. I have become passionate about finding and supporting women (and men) who have made the choice (or have had the choice made for them) to live without children.

LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?

Charmaine: I hope that I can continue to learn and grow and let go of my loss. That the bitterness fades even more, and that I can fully and completely accept that my purpose in life is what I make it, not what society says it should be.

Although each of our stories is unique, you can find support from LWB readers who have traveled similar paths in the Community Forums and in Our Stories and the Comments. Then, when you’re ready, I hope you’ll share your story with us. Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

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

Whiny Wednesday: Left Hanging by the Fertility Industry

Whiny_WednesdayThis week’s topic is for those of you who arrived here via the infertility route.

Do you feel you were left hanging by the fertility industry?

Okay, I know that’s a loaded question, so if you don’t feel like jumping in on this topic, or if it doesn’t apply to you, feel free to bring your own whine to the party this week.

When Life, Art, and Infertility Intertwine

By Lisa Manterfield

Front cover-hiThis week marks the six-year anniversary of the publication of my first book, I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood. Aside from being stunned at how quickly six years have passed, I’m also struck by how intertwined my writing and life have become.

I never set out to write a book about being unable to have children; my plan had always been to write fiction. But as is often the way, my personal infertility story began creeping into writing exercises as I struggled to put my experience into words and be heard. Then, in a weekend writing workshop, our very astute teacher, Amy, asked the question, “What’s the thing you don’t want to write about?” Our assignment was to write down our answers before going to bed that night. I wrote down that I didn’t want to write about my infertility. I expected there would be a follow up assignment the next morning, but Amy never mentioned it again.

Time passed as this idea of writing my story began to worm its way into my brain and suddenly I realized I’d written several chapters about the thing I swore I didn’t want to write about. The next thing I knew I was committing to writing a book.

The trouble was, my story didn’t have an ending yet. Mr. Fab and I were still working through fertility treatments and adoption, and I was far from ready to give up. The ending of my book would obviously be the scene where I learn that I am pregnant and we laugh joyously at all we’ve been through. So I kept writing until that ending came.

During this process of creating a book, I began to look at my story through an editor’s eyes and it gave me some distance from my experience. I began to gain perspective about my own crazy journey and at some point, I realized what the ending of the book—and the ending of my story—had to be. It had to be the point that Mr. Fab and I decide to let go of our plans to have a baby and take our lives in a new direction. That’s what we did and the rest, as they say is history. I rewrote the book entirely, with this new ending in mind and then I went off to figure out how the heck I was ever going to stop crying about this cruel blow I’d been dealt.

I started this blog to promote the book. I created a website and began writing my way through the mess of trying to come to terms with my decision. I felt like a very unwilling pioneer, like I was the only person in the world talking about this awful situation. But then readers began to find the blog and I learned that I was far from alone. I found other bloggers sharing their stories and, bit-by-bit, I began to heal. I stopped crying and started being angry instead. And after a while I stopped being so angry and started being…happy! Happily childless! I could never have imagined it.

So, last year I began collecting everything I’d learned since that moment of realization that I wouldn’t be a mother. I’ll admit that I gained most of this knowledge in hindsight after struggling through the mess of emotions and then realizing how I could have done it better. I also learned so much from you, dear, dear readers, sharing your experiences and hard-won lessons. I put everything I learned together in a series of e-books and next year I’ll put them out as a complete book. And once again, as I read through the words I wrote, I’m learning more about myself. Life, art, and infertility inextricably intertwined.

So here I am standing in this odd place, not at the end of my journey (because I don’t think this will be a journey with a finite ending) but at a place so far distant from where I began that I can barely recognize myself anymore.

And the good news I have to report from this strange land is that I’m okay. I didn’t get the thing I once wanted more than anything in the world, but actually, life is pretty great. That’s an ending to the story I would never have predicted.

To celebrate this pretty special week, I’m offering free copies of Workbook 1: Letting Go of the Dream of Motherhood. You can get your free download today and tomorrow only (November 16 and 17) from Amazon. It’s available for all devices (Kindle, iPad, Kobo, etc.) or you can download a free e-reader here to read the book on your computer.

Guest Post: Moving Past “Maybe”

By Katrina Blaydon

peaceI’m in my mid-30s and my husband of 3 years and I have been trying to have a baby for the past year and a half. I have PCOS and do not ovulate. He, however, is just fine. So, if I take a course of fertility drugs every month on particular dates, I ovulate. Problem solved. So, it was a very frustrating process to learn that every four weeks, we would face another heartbreak, despite physically being “able.” And it was less than comforting, when our wonderful doctor, whom we trust, said point blank, “I’m sorry you aren’t pregnant yet. I’m frustrated about this too, and I can’t explain it.”

Every month, we would anxiously and silently go out of our minds with a mix of excitement and sorrow, hope and heartbreak. Then one day, as I got teary eyed by myself at work in the bathroom stall discovering once again that I was not to be a mother, I decided that I could not do it one more time. I spoke with my husband, who is wonderful, who loves me and wants me to be happy, but who also wants to a father. We decided together, for our sanity and health, we needed to consider a way for us to “move on” and pursue other plans.

That entire time of hope and heartache, I had to live in a state of “maybe” and “what if.” Could I take Advil for a headache if I’m possibly pregnant? I had a cold this past winter, and I couldn’t take Dayquil, in case “maybe” I was pregnant. I couldn’t plan a beach trip with my girlfriends because maybe I would be pregnant by then and wanted to save my time off for maternity leave. I couldn’t plan my life; I couldn’t even cure a headache… That’s when I realized: I need to learn to move past “the maybe” of it.

It was a feeling of pure anger and fury over the situation. I likened it to seeing myself as a child stomping my feet and pumping my fists at God, saying, “I want this and you won’t give it to me!” And to be honest, those feelings were worse than feeling sad every four weeks because after that sadness, I could find hope again. But knowing that, after this anger would come bitterness for friends and coworkers who announced joyfully planned pregnancies, wasn’t easy to grasp.

As with anything, it got worse before it got better, and it took a few months to reach a point of not feeling red hot at the thought of it. I started attending church after months away, as if I were being the stubborn child who rebelled, saying, “I’ll show Him!” The truth was, I was too angry and too bitter to pray. I couldn’t praise a God who decided that a homeless teenager, or a crack addict, or a single mom who couldn’t feed the six children she already had, was destined to be a parent, instead of us. I couldn’t understand that, and I still don’t. I still get red cheeked when I think about that, but it’s not 24 hours a day anymore of anger. It’s not a sleepless night every single evening of the week anymore, and it’s not a daily breakdown in tears anymore. I’ve made great progress.

Learning to move past the state of maybe, was the only way I could allow myself any peace. I am not going to lie and say that I don’t feel those same feelings when I get invited to a first birthday party or the worst of them all, the baby shower. And yes, something like a bomb explodes in my chest when someone unknowingly asks me, “Are you two going to be next?” or “So, when are you two going to start a family?” And yes, I still cry sometimes, just because I feel sad about it. But, overall, my general day to day life is not consumed by it.

By working to accept a childless status, it’s brought me peace and a feeling of knowing the pressure is off. I can make other plans. I’m finally able to let go and feel “lighter” somehow without this unfinished agenda constantly in the back of my head. I try to be thankful for a good night’s sleep, or to have a free weekend to get away with my husband, or spend Saturday mornings gardening instead of dashing to and from soccer fields. We enjoy a spontaneous date night on a Wednesday without worrying about a sitter and bath time routines. We are thankful to have time to enjoy our friends. I enjoy quiet time for myself and yet, I still cry about all the silence in our house. But learning to move past “maybe” has let my heart rest and it’s let my mind relax, and it allowed me to pursue a greater health and wellness plan for my body. Maybe that’s when it’s time to move past the maybe and learn to consciously enjoy the life you are living. After all, the “maybe” will be there whether you are planning on it or not. And as one of my most encouraging friends told me, “Plans can be changed.” Yet another thing for which this infertile woman is thankful.

Katrina has her B.A. from Penn State University. She lives in central PA with her husband of three years.

Talking About Grief

By Lisa Manterfield

MP900438973I’ve been writing and talking a lot about grief lately—here on the blog, in my fiction, in my personal life, in the novels I’m reading, and for the Life Without Baby book I’m working on. Even when I got chatting to a stranger on a train, the conversation turned to the topic of grief.

Over paper cups of tea, this woman—who had lost her brother to suicide—and I talked about how grief stays with us long after we’re “over it”, how the shape of grief changes with time, how it can change us, and how everyone carries around their own personal grief.

My only regret in the discussion is that it didn’t begin sooner on our journey, because I would have liked to hear more about what she had to say on the subject. But eventually we parted ways, she to her office and I to airport, and I didn’t have the opportunity to ask her more about her grief.

So, I’d like to ask you instead.

  • How has your grief changed over time?
  • How has your loss changed you?
  • In what ways has your grief crept out, even when you’ve tried to keep it under wraps?

As a society, I don’t believe the topic of grief gets enough attention. We’re uncomfortable with grieving people, no matter what type of loss they’ve suffered, but it’s especially true when the loss isn’t understood.

So let’s start the conversation now. Let’s talk about this grief. I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Our Quiet Revolution

By Lisa Manterfield

MP900255381One of the big changes I’ve seen since starting this site more than five years ago, is that the topics of infertility and childlessness are being brought out from behind closed doors and are being discussed in more public forums.

Whereas once I felt as if I was the only person talking openly about this, I’ve since found an incredible network of fellow bloggers and authors writing very intimately about their stories. Last week, the NotMom Summit was held in Ohio, where more than a hundred women discussed many of the issues we face and explored ways to follow a new path.

I’ve also received several requests to complete surveys from researchers who are exploring the effects and issues of unplanned childlessness. I’ve posted details about the two most recent studies below.

In your corner of the world, you may still be feeling that NO ONE is talking about this, that no one understands what you’re going through, and even your closest confidants don’t want to talk about it. Sadly, I think this is still true for most of us. But the tide is turning, and the more we talk about this topic and the more we venture out and start these conversations, the less taboo it will become.

Even if you’re not ready (or feel as if you will never be ready) to start your own campaign for understanding, you’re already part of this quiet revolution. You’re here, you’re talking about your experience with others, you’re sharing comfort and encouraging other readers. Even if you’re doing all of this anonymously and even if you’re coming here in secret to contribute to these conversations, you are part of the change that’s coming.

This issue is never going to go away, in fact I believe that our segment of the population will only continue to grow (but that’s another post for another day), but perhaps in the future, our sisters who need help will be able to pick up a leaflet from their doctors or walk into a local support group or sit down with a friend over coffee and feel comfortable talking openly about what it feels to not to have the children you wanted.

***

If you’d like to contribute to a research study, here are two I received recently:

Sarah Spear, M.A. from the Wright Institute in Berkeley, CA is conducting a study of women age 60 and older who identify as infertile and as involuntarily childless.  You can find more about participating in her study here.

Livia Cremona-Bellizia of Victoria University is conducting a survey into how childlessness affects self-esteem, self-silencing behavior, life satisfaction, and depression/anxiety. You can participate in her online survey here.

Please note that both studies are confidential and anonymous.

Our Stories: Gill

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesI am so moved by Gill’s story. She has always wanted her children, but her husband doesn’t. And now that they are both dealing with health issues, they’ve made the difficult choice that it’s better not to have children. When asked where she is on her journey now, Gill responded, “Hoping for a miracle whilst trying to accept the inevitable.” I so get that!

Gill is now 33 and working to make peace with her lot in life. She admits to feeling alone on this journey, so after you read her story, I hope you’ll offer her your support and encouragement in the Comments.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Gill: My husband has never lied to me about not wanting children, but I’ve always thought he would change his mind one day. Fast-forward 11 years and my husband has been diagnosed with Asperger’s and anxiety, and has a real fear about how he would cope. Whilst I am still wanting children deep down, I know that the stress of having children will probably not do our relationship, or his mental health, any good. Not only that, but there is a real chance that any child we did have would have mental health problems (my husband’s condition is genetic, so chances are our child would also have autism) or allergies (I have asthma and eczema, also genetic) too. The best thing we can do as parents in not have a child, for who would want to put their child through a lifetime of struggling to fit in?

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Gill: I feel my situation is different to most and that all people say to me is that I am brave for giving up on this dream. This doesn’t help! I really want to know if one day I will “get over it”. Although I understand and agree with our reasons, it still doesn’t help with the fact that I want to be a mum. I hate myself for being selfish and sometimes wonder if I did have children, would I always feel guilty if they had autism? I know that there is always the chance that we would have a healthy child, but the chances are slim and my husband doesn’t want to ruin what we have already.

LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?

Gill: A few people I know who do not have children due to infertility have said that it does get easier with time and that you begin to appreciate all the things you can do that you wouldn’t if you had children. For example, going on lots of holidays, staying out late, or maybe even enhancing my career.

LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?

Gill: I am going to have counseling to try to come to terms with not having children. I am lucky to be an auntie, so I plan to do lots with those children.

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Gill: I love this website as it is full of nice stories that make me feel less alone on my journey.

If you’ve been feeling that you’re all alone on this journey, I encourage you to read other members’ stories here. There is a lot of wisdom and support in the stories themselves and in the Comments. Then, when you’re ready, I hope you’ll share your story with us. Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

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

 

Whiny Wednesday: Fearing the Quiet

Whiny_WednesdayThis week’s suggested Whiny Wednesday topic is thought-provoking:

Fearing the quiet we will have for years

How do you feel about this? Is it something you worry about? If not, what is on your mind this week?

Whiny Wednesday: Work Pregnancies

Whiny_WednesdayIt’s Whiny Wednesday, your chance to gripe about the issues you’re dealing with this week. This week’s suggested topic is one we’ve all had to deal with:

 An over-abundance of work pregnancies

 I can relate to this one. When I was trying to conceive, I managed a small department of about eight people. One year we had three simultaneous pregnancies…and none of them was mine.

Whine away!

It’s Here! The Final Book in the Life Without Baby Series

WorkBook4_3DI’m so excited!

After more than a year of writing and editing, the final ebook in the Life Without Baby series came out today.

Thriving in a New Happily Ever After is all about rediscovering who you used to be and figuring out who you are now and where you’re going next. It’s packed with exercises and tools to help you visualize the future and take the first small steps forward to finding you again.

The book is available now on Amazon.com. If you don’t have an e-reader, you can a download free Kindle app onto any device or computer from here. All the books are also available as downloadable PDFs at Gumroad.com.

A big thanks to everyone who has supporting me in this project and especially to Kathleen, who helped me throughout the whole series with her brilliant editing and proofing skills. I quite honestly could not have done it without her or you.