Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Reevaluating Your Life

By Lisa Manterfield

thinkingWhen you realized you were never going to have kids, did you reassess your lives and make any big changes that you never would have made had you had kids?

I was asked this question recently and it caused me to stop and think. Much of the past five years has been spent healing, coming to terms with a life without children, and learning about myself again. And while I’ve done a lot of reassessing about the kind of life I want to live, I’m not sure much has changed.

When we thought we were going to have a young family, Mr. Fab and I had planned to buy a house in the neighborhood where we rent. The schools are good, and the city is family-friendly. But now we won’t be having children, that’s no longer a priority and we’ve talked a lot about where we’d like to live now that we’re free to live almost anywhere. Buying a house is no longer a priority. In fact we have our eyes on a sailboat instead.

But aside from that, not much has changed in the way we live. Much has changed in the way we thought we were going to live, but when I step back and reassess, life really has just gone as before.

Sometimes I think we feel pressure to do a major life overhaul when we realize we won’t have children, but is that true? Yes, I have more freedom to take opportunities and make changes, but after all is said I’m done, I’m still the same old Lisa and the things that were important to me before are largely still important to me now.

How about you? Have you made big changes now that your life won’t include children?

The final book in the Life Without Baby ebook series comes out tomorrow! In Thriving in a New Happily Ever After, we look at how to find joy in your life again, how to decide what, if anything, needs to change, and how to take the first steps to move in a new direction.  

Our Stories: Ruby

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesRuby* wanted to feel “ready” to bring a child into the world. After a tumultuous, abusive childhood, and many years of living in fear, she found a therapist who could help her heal. Finally, she felt she could take on the responsibilities of being a parent, but was single. It would be many more years before she met her current partner, and he didn’t want children. Then he changed his mind. When their efforts to become pregnant failed, including one heartbreaking miscarriage, they ultimately decided to stop trying.

Now 48 and childfree by circumstance, Ruby has redefined what “giving birth” means to her. Read on to learn more of her story and her new perspective on being childfree.

 

LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood.

Ruby: To create the nurturing loving supportive home environment I never had as a child. To leave the world more loving than I experienced it.

The irony is, that when I was young and fertile enough to have children, I didn’t want them. I was sexually abused by my father when I was very young. Up until my mid-30s, when I finally found a psychotherapist who could genuinely help me, I was an emotional basket case.

For most of my life, I largely lived in fear, couldn’t trust, couldn’t develop healthy friendships or relationships. To survive, I drank, did drugs, and put on weight to protect my body (to not feel sexual toward men). At 30 I fell pregnant twice, and twice chose abortion. I couldn’t bring a child into my desperate and addictive life, as I was still very messed up, confused, scared, and unable to deal with life.

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

Ruby: Not having the most intimate of experiences of loving a child. Missing out on this “true love”. Even though my partner loves me dearly, it is a different kind of love.

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

Ruby: As time ran out, I started to feel myself becoming more desperate, wanting to have a child “above everything”. While my partner then, too, wanted a child as much as I did, he was also my loving reality check. Was it the end of the world if we didn’t end up having children? “Our life can be deeply rewarding, whether we do or don’t have children. What if there are complications? (At our age, early 40s, a real risk factor.) What if it’s not all you dream it will be?”

I hadn’t let myself fully sit with these options until then. It was at this point that a whole lot of tension I had been holding onto started to release, and a sense of true worthiness came back into my life. It was then that I first let myself grieve, and, through this grief, connected with my heart in a deep way. I stopped defining myself through this one role of motherhood and allowed myself to own all of my life as it was, and all of my potential.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Ruby: That I am a deeply loving and beautiful and worthy soul, even without children. That I am still capable of true love, and making a real difference to others, just not in the most immediate way that being a parent offers. That I am not a failure just because I am not a mother.

We had considered IVF, but the statistics they gave us were misleading, and we realized that, ultimately, IVF clinics are businesses. The whole process felt mechanical and unsupportive. After so many years of being emotionally disconnected from my heart and soul, it was the IVF process that finally made me listen to and honor my body. I wanted to love and nurture a child’s life, but I also wanted to nurture the soul of my own Inner Child that I had neglected and abandoned so long ago. As I write this now, it is this true love that I feel for my deeper self, that teaches me, reminds me, that “I am enough”.

LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?

Ruby: That “giving birth” and “nurturing life” can take many sacred forms. For me, today, it means giving birth to all the deepest joy and creativity I feel inside me. I have longed to create a book, workshops, and business revolving around emotional healing, and have finally gathered the courage in the last year to start giving birth to this dream.

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Ruby: I was led to your beautiful, brave, honest, and authentic website through your interview with Tracey Cleantis about her book The Next Happy. Discovering your website connected me with a core truth that I had not fully owned—that I will never be a mother—and I’m so grateful that you’ve helped me to more fully own and grieve what it means to “live without baby”.

*Not her real name. We allow each respondent to use a fictitious name for her profile, if she chooses.

Won’t you 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.

 

We’re Back!

By Lisa Manterfield

Furious womanOh my goodness! What a nutty couple of weeks. There I was, all set for my traditional “summer’s over, time to get back to business” post when suddenly the comments stopped working.

Of course, it was right before the long Labor Day weekend, so any tech experts were busy flipping burgers, their phones and email either turned off or vehemently ignored. I sweated, I panicked, I considered trying to fix it myself based on an assumption of what I thought was wrong.

Instead, I took a breath and reminded myself of what I so often preach:

It will be okay. It will get fixed, even if it’s not today and even if it’s not how I’d envisioned. In the end, one way or another, it will all work out.

And here we are. Everything is back to normal and all is right in this corner of my world again. It turns out that our little community has been around so long that it outgrew some of its technology. We’re all up-to-date now and should remain that way, knock on wood.

So, if you were frustrated, cursing, and muttering my name under your breath as you tried and failed to jump into a conversation, I apologize and I really appreciate your patience. Here are the posts you missed if you want to jump in now.

On Monday, I wrote about the Ring Theory in How Not to Say the Wrong Thing.

Whiny Wednesday’s topic was the thorny issue of making new friends when you don’t move in the mommy circles.

And on Friday, Kathleen, wrote about assumptions and pressure in her post about Being Blessed with Children.

Normal service will resume on Whiny Wednesday this week.

 

WorkBook4_3DIn other news, I spent much of the summer working on the final book in the Life Without Baby ebook series and it comes out next week!

Thriving in a New Happily Ever After is all about embracing the future, rediscovering who you used to be, and taking small steps in a new direction. I didn’t want it to be another “fix your broken life now!” book and what I hope I’ve written is a gentle, encouraging “How do I get unstuck from where I am now when I have no idea which direction to head next?”

The book comes out on September 22nd and it’s available for preorder on Amazon now. I hope you’ll find it useful.

How Not to Say the Wrong Thing

By Lisa Manterfield

shhhI absolutely love this article by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman about how not to say the wrong thing to someone in crisis. I wish it was mandatory reading for everyone, and I especially wish it came with a note explaining that it applies when talking to infertiles and the childless-not-by-choice.

The gist of their Ring Theory is that the person in crisis is at the center of the ring and those next closest to the person occupy subsequent rings. In the case of someone coming to terms with not having children, she would be at the center, her spouse or partner on the next ring, perhaps closest family and friends on the next, and more distant family, coworkers, and acquaintances beyond that.

The rule is that that if people have something mean or insensitive or opinionated to say, they say it to someone on a bigger ring. When speaking to someone on a smaller ring, they can only listen or—if they must say something—offer help, support, or comfort. No advice, no miracle stories, no blame or shame. No offering of their kids, no suggestions to adopt. “I’m sorry” is all that needs to be said. If they want to dump, dump outwards, not inwards.

I wish people would understand that someone who has just acknowledged she won’t ever have children is in crisis, and what she needs more than judgment and unhelpful help is for people to say to the right thing.

Great news: The final book in the Life Without Baby ebook series comes out September 22. Writing Thriving in a New Happily Ever After showed me just how far I’ve come in making peace with my childlessness. I’m looking forward to sharing it with you. It’s available now for pre-order at Amazon, along with the first three books.

Family Jealousy

By Lisa Manterfield

Young Businesswoman Standing with Two Young Business ExecutivesAs I continue on my own journey of healing, I find it hard sometimes to write about the issues that used to cause me such discomfort. It’s amazing how the human brain can dull past pain. So I appreciate when readers contact me with ideas for topics they’d like to see discussed.

Recently, Jennifer sent me this question about jealousy within families:

“I see a lot of people post about the joy of having nieces and nephews. Well, my brother’s wife is pregnant and I’m feeling completely pushed of out the picture. It may be because I reacted with shock and sadness over their first pregnancy. But I did write a lengthy, heartfelt apology and when that resulted in a miscarriage, my husband and I were the first to make it to the hospital and we stayed 11 hours with them. Now, my sister-in-law is being really removed from me.

I really want to have the connection with my niece or nephew, but I’m afraid I won’t. And honestly, I’m jealous.

I wonder if others have similar experiences?”

A new baby in the family is a really difficult situation to navigate. There’s such a mixed bag of emotions involved. You’re trying to deal with your own grief, while also feeling alone because others don’t understand what you’re going through. Then a cause for celebration gets thrown in on top of that and, as much as you know you’re supposed to be happy for the new parents, all you can feel is resentment and jealousy that it’s not you. So, guilt and shame for being a bad sport get piled on top of that.

I also know that other people don’t know how to handle us when they have good news. I recall a friend being extremely uncomfortable about telling me she was pregnant. She dealt with it by sitting down, explaining that she knew this was difficult for me, and asking me how much or how little I wanted to know or be involved. I really appreciated her being open and it allowed me to be honest with her about how I felt. I’ve also had the experience of a friend saying, “Guess what?!” and then launching into every detail of how she found out and how it feels to be pregnant, while I sat and squirmed. Often people don’t know what to say or how best to handle us “volatile” folks, so they pull away and say nothing.

How about you? Have you experienced jealousy over new babies in the family? How have you dealt with it? Have you had a good experience with a friend or family member handling their news with aplomb?

 

If you have a topic or question you’d like to see discussed on the blog, please drop me a line. You can email me at lisa [at] lisamanterfield [dot] com or go through the Contact page.

How to be Happily Childfree in 10,000 Easy Steps

By Lisa Manterfield

This post is an oldie, originally posted on April 26, 2012, but I think it’s worth a rerun. You can see what others had to say in the original comments here.

MP900289486There are two questions I get asked frequently: How did you come to terms with not having children, and how long did it take?

The answer is something akin to “how long is a piece of string and how many knots can you tie in it?”

Believe me when I tell you that if I could write down ten easy steps to making peace with being childfree-not-by-choice, I’d do it, but the answer isn’t that simple. Yes, there were many things that happened along the way that helped me make some peace, but it took closer to 10,000 steps than ten.

Writing down my story was hugely cathartic, venting about the injustices on this blog helped, too. Realizing I wasn’t alone in this and that people like you were out there wanting to talk through the minefield has helped immeasurably. Drawing a line in the sand and saying, “This is where that chapter of my life ends and this is where I start healing” also helped. And frankly, telling myself a big fat lie that I was better off not being a mother actually helped me to realize that in many ways I was. Setting new goals, appreciating the benefits of not having kids, and allowing myself to feel bitter and badly treated when I needed to. All these things helped.

I don’t think there’s a formula for working your way through this, and it’s definitely a journey of making forward process and dealing with inevitable setbacks.

As for how long the process takes? How long is that piece of string? It’s been three years for me and I consider myself largely at peace with my situation. I have closed the door on the idea that I will have children someday and most days I’m good with it. Everyday it gets a little better and a little easier. Some days there will be reminders of what I’ve lost and sometimes a flicker of a thought of “what if…”

The truth is, in many ways, I expect this piece of string to go on forever. The experience of infertility has changed me. It is one of the most significant and life-changing events of my life, and I don’t think the repercussions of that will ever stop reverberating. It doesn’t mean I won’t find harmony and even happiness in this new life – I already have – but I don’t expect this journey of coming-to-terms to ever fully end.

Guest Post: No Apologies

By Justine Brooks Froelker, LPC, CDWF

Battling through IVF and learning to accept a childfree life means we are faced, sometimes daily, with uncomfortable social situations and questions about our motherhood status and how we got here. It also means the wounds of infertility, especially in the beginning when things are completely raw, continue to be open, gaping wounds. And at times, it can feel like society callously pours salt into us over and over.

Infertility, IVF, pregnancy loss and childfree acceptance are some of the most shamed words in our lexicon. The blogging universe has helped move us past this shame in many ways; however we have a long way to go in my opinion. My blog, Ever Upward, is my story; completely honest, completely open and without much shame…anymore at least.

Owning my story, completely and out loud, for the world to read has changed my life. My healing journey continues to improve and I am making connections with so many people all over the world. However, I completely understand and get that this is not how most of us going through infertility and childfree acceptance feel. However, I would like to offer a permission for all of us.

No apologies.

If you aren’t ready for that baby shower, politely decline. If your friend only talks about her brand new baby or her kids, respectfully ask her about something else in her life or bravely ask her to stop. Or simply greatly limit your time with her. Only you know what you are ready for with wherever you are in your journey. Give yourself permission to ask for what you want and need and to set boundaries. And do it without apology, especially to yourself.

As I write, I am headed home from my certification training with The Daring Way™ based on the research of Brené Brown. Through my work in the last 5 days I have learned more about my shame surrounding my IVF journey. Of course the misunderstandings and judgments that society and others have surrounding infertility can make shame envelope me so quickly that I completely shrink. But, through my work I also learned that at times I shut myself down in telling my full story because I know it is difficult for others to hear. Not only do they not want to discuss shamed infertility but they also don’t want to have to feel how sad my story is. Or how much they wish I could be a mother because they know I’d be a great mother. I find that I quiet myself and don’t share because I shield myself from feeling shame by people pleasing and caretaking, not wanting someone I care about to feel any pain, let alone my pain.

But, I also silence myself because I really don’t want their fucking sympathy.

I hopefully yearn for their empathy, and one day their understanding.

In the light filled spirit that has washed over me after learning the curriculum of The Daring Way™ I am filled with courage and hope. I will no longer shy away from my story, ever. I will practice my shame resilience. I will stop making apologies to society, to my friends and family, but most of all to myself.

So without any apology:

I am Justine.

I tried IVF two times with a gestational surrogate, and for us two times is enough and one more time than we really could afford both financially and emotionally.

I can’t have kids.

I tried very hard to be a mother.

I paid a lot of money to be a mother.

And, I put my body (and my surrogate’s body) through hormonal hell to have a baby.

But they were never my babies to love here on earth.

I know that adoption isn’t for me.

And so I work, sometimes every minute of every day, to accept my childfree life and to let go of my childlessness.

And I will no longer silence myself because my story is sad or scary for anyone, as I will no longer allow shame to steal my true self.

Because, this is my ever upward.

No apologies.

 

Justine Brooks Froelker is a Licensed Professional Counselor and a Certified Daring Way™ Facilitator (based on the research of Brené Brown) with a private practice in St. Louis, Missouri (www.jbftherapyandcoaching.com). In February 2011, she and her husband began their journey in the world of IVF. 2 rounds of IVF with a gestational surrogate, 2 transfers, 3 babies never to be born and learning to accept a childfree life later, Ever Upward was conceived. 

To Shower or Not To Shower

By Solo Girl 

invitation - pixabayI have a large extended family; we have to rent a hall for big family holidays so we can all get together.  And now all those sisters and female cousins are newly married and reproducing.  Every time a baby shower comes up I’m invited, and I wrestle with myself over whether or not I should be able to go yet.

I’ve always been supportive and encouraging with my family, happy to celebrate in another’s happiness.  It’s been four many years since my dream died, and I get the sense that I’m expected to be “over it” by now.

Unsure and not wanting family to think I’m selfish or emotionally immature, I went to a cousin’s baby shower about a year ago.  I mentally prepared myself ahead of time.  For example, I’m terrified of flying, but I know that there is lift-off, food, a movie and a landing, and then it’s done.  I thought about how there would be food, presents and games at this shower, and then it would be done.  I thought to myself “I should be able do this, even my own Mom is expecting me to go.”

I thought the worst part would be the games, but I was wrong.  It was the chitchat.  I actually got stuck between my mother and a cousin having a conversation on the couch about how all the women in our family have long labors.  Seriously.  When I got home I wrote myself a note in black marker and stuck it on my kitchen pin board where it still remains today:  “You never have to go to another baby shower ever again.  No one will notice; no one will care.  It’s torturous.  Don’t Go.  Don’t feel guilty”.

But a year later I still get shower invites and I continue to question whether I am – or should be – ready to attend now.  And I want to know, is it ever going to be something I can attend?  And what can I tell my family that will help them understand how painful it is to attend without sounding like I’m feeling sorry for myself after all this time?  They have high expectations of me, and I really do think they mean well.  I was in a deep depression four years ago, and I think they are trying to make me normal again.  I think.

I’m glad Irina Vodar is producing a documentary on the subject of infertility that some helpful social norms will come of it.

How do you handle these situations?

Solo Girl lives on her own with her 2+ dogs in Ontario, Canada.  She focuses her time on volunteer work and fostering rescue dogs.

 

Whiny Wednesday: “Accidental” Pregnancies

Whiny_WednesdaySome time ago, Maybe Lady Liz wrote a brilliant guest post about friends posting pregnancy announcements on Facebook, only to add that they were “accidents.” I thought it would be a great topic for this week:

“Accidental” pregnancies

You can read Liz’s original post here. Just be advised if you decide to click through to her blog that it is no longer about not having children, as Liz is now a mom.