Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

My Perfect Imperfect Life

By Lisa Manterfield

Courtesy Hasbro Games

Courtesy Hasbro Games

I’ve been taking a fantastic creative writing class at UCLA Extension. Each week, we start off with a writing exercise from a choice of prompts, and last week, one of the prompts was, “I’m tired of pretending my life isn’t perfect.” I almost took the prompt.

It’s not hard to write about the part of my life that is so obviously imperfect: the fact that I wasn’t able to have children. I could (and do) write about that broken bit. But if I took my life apart, I’d find lots of areas that aren’t perfect. Isn’t every life like that? Everyone has challenges, and life would probably be dull without them. But part of the thrill of living is overcoming life’s challenges. Without the obstacles there’s no glory of victory.

My life is flawed in many ways, as all lives are, but it’s also a good and happy life, and on the whole it’s pretty close to perfect. And it’s hard work to keep clinging to the idea that it isn’t. It’s tiring to keep feeling bad about the parts of my life that didn’t work out as planned.

I didn’t get to have children, and it’s true that, for a long period of time, it made my life feel empty and deeply flawed. But that changed over time. I worked to overcome that flaw, to seek and take advantage of the silver linings, to work through my sadness—by writing, in my case—by gathering this community and sharing our stories. My marriage made it through infertility. That’s a victory in itself. And while there are still many challenges in my life, few of them are related to my childlessness anymore.

So, yes, I am a flawed human, with challenges to face, but I no longer wish to pretend my life isn’t perfect, just as it is, warts and all.

(And by the way, I didn’t take the prompt because there was another that sparked an idea. I’m glad I took that one instead, because that exercise turned into short story instead.)

It Got Me Thinking…About Greener Grass

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

It was early in the morning on a national holiday. I was walking to our gym when I passed one of our neighbors as she loaded kids and gear into a minivan.

“Off to the gym?” she asked, grunting as she hoisted a toddler into his car seat.

“Yup.”

“I would give anything to trade places with you.”

For a split second I paused, then replied with the only response that seemed appropriate. “I’m sorry.”

As I continued down the street, it dawned on me that for the first time in years I wasn’t feeling (a) judgmental (she was, after all, dissing her kids) or (b) wistful. So often in the past I would have thought how I would have traded anything to have precious kids of my own, but now, not so much. I was pretty happy with the prospect of spending my holiday taking care of myself, maybe even reading a book or taking a nap instead of having to read a book to someone else hoping he would settle down for a nap.  I didn’t feel sorry for or envious of my neighbor, and I didn’t want to trade my grass for her grass. The grass was perfectly green on my side of the street.

Me thinks the healing process has begun.

Whiny Wednesday: When Technology Attacks!

Whiny_WednesdayMy whine this week is all about this site. Last week, like a dutiful blogger, I did my regular monthly system updates… and all hell broke loose!

As I’m sure you saw firsthand, the comment button vanished into thin air, making it impossible to post comments. Yeah, three days before Mother’s Day and this site is as good as useless.

Added to that, the updates also changed my very rigid spam filters, and while no spam made it onto the site itself, my inbox was overflowing with ads for cheap Oakley sunglasses and knock-off Louis Vuitton.

Everything’s more or less back to normal now, thank goodness (and thanks to a WordPress Wizard who works weekends!) I appreciate patience over the past week. But honestly, it’s times like these I wish we could all meet up for coffee in-person instead of online.

It’s Whiny Wednesday and it’s open forum today. Whatever’s on your mind, feel free to unload it here!

It Got Me Thinking…About Nurturers

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I can bitch with the best about how much I loathe the holiday that’s coming up this Sunday. I’ve spent past years avoiding church, restaurants, flower shops, TV ads, and, well, people who brightly wished me “HAPPY (you-know-who’s) DAY!” It was easier to hibernate than face painful reminders of what I am not.

But this year is different. This year I am embracing the second Sunday in May because a wise friend has transformed it for me. This year I am pulling out all the stops and celebrating because I am…drumroll, please…a Nurturer!

Here’s the message my friend sent out last May, and it is my message to you.

To the nurturers in us all: For helping friends in need, for compassion for strangers in pain, for helping children to learn, and for being good stewards of our world…Happy Nurturer’s Day!

If you are an aunt, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a coworker, a coach, or a listener. If you’ve comforted another person, if you’ve offered support or encouragement, or if you’ve shared a hug. If you’ve read something on this site and responded with kind words or sent up a prayer for a sister in need. If you’ve been any or all of these things, then it’s time you acknowledge yourself.

You’ve been there for me, in our forums, in your comments, in your presence here with us on this site. For that I say, Thank you! and Happy Nurturer’s Day!

Breaking the Silence and Finally Heard

By Lisa Manterfield

Reverse.out_.cover_-214x300When I first began to acknowledge that the online “trying to conceive” crowd was no longer my tribe, I searched around the Internet for someone more like me. After realizing enough was enough I needed to work how to come to terms with a life without children. But when I looked around, it became clear that I was the only person in the whole world this had ever happened to!

Or so I believed.

Then, out of the fog, came a light, gentle and distant at first, but growing steadily stronger. And then a voice, echoing all I was feeling—the sadness, the fear, and the raging anger.

That voice belonged to Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos. In her book and blog, Silent Sorority, Pamela blazed a trail by sharing the raw and painful truth of her failed infertility journey and subsequent struggle to come-to-terms with a life without children. I’m sure many of you have also heard that voice.

Over the years, Pamela’s voice has grown louder as others, like myself, have stepped out of the shadows and shone a light on their own infertility journeys. Now she’s sharing the next chapter of her story in her new ebook, Finally Heard. This time she offers a blend of stories, reporting, recommended reading, studies and questions exploring the complexities of infertility and what she calls Generation IVF.

The book is available in Kindle Single-type format here and if you’ve never read Silent Sorority, I recommend adding that to your reading list too.

The Emotional Waves of Mother’s Day

By Paulina Grace Hay

MP900399009Mother’s Day is looming and, once again, I find myself waiting for it to be over. It feels like I’m holding my breath underwater, hoping that no one sees me, the water creating a lovely muffle to drown out all the celebrations around me. When it’s over, I come up and gasp for air, crawling back to the shore.

Last year, even though I did my best to become a record setter in holding my breath, I had to come for air a lot. Some breaths were easy and others were labored. Before I went under, I filled up my oxygen tank with some good feelings. I started my day by reaching out to my fellow childless friends and my friends who have lost their mother or aren’t close with their mothers. It makes so happy when they seem genuinely surprised and touched that someone thought of them on Mother’s Day. Sure enough, I had a friend unload how she was having a triple whammy of a day – it was her birthday, the anniversary of her mother’s death and she’s childless. I didn’t know what to say, but offered an ear if she needed it and to share my plate of brownies with her.

Then I received a text from my brother wishing me a “Happy Mother’s Day – hope it’s a great one!” I just wanted to say, “Are you serious? You know what I’ve been through. How can you say that to me?” Instead I wrote an email both my brothers, with an honest account of how I spend my day. I finished with how on days like this it would be nice to hear from them that they appreciate how I try to make their kids feel special and that I watch over our parents so they don’t have to. I was proud of myself for being vulnerable and stating what I needed.

Until they responded.

One wrote back quickly stating yet again that he cannot be expected to understand how difficult it is to have gone through a miscarriage. He always tells his girls, he said, how lucky they are to have me (even though I rarely get to see them.) I was hurt but not overly surprised by his response. Learning through Brené Brown why such comments are painful has been so helpful. His comments create distance not connection. That happened to you, not me – thank god. “I can’t understand” means “I really don’t want to try to understand.” Telling his girls to appreciate me is not telling me he appreciates me.

The other responded a bit later with a more seemingly thoughtful response. He was kind in saying that he does appreciate me every day. Then he went on to share a few stories to “one up” my sadness. Essentially the message was, “Stop whining. There are people that have it a lot worse than you.” He closed with how he would pray for me. It is devastating when someone belittles your pain, but Brené helped me reclaim it. My pain is my pain and it hurts like hell, even if he can’t see it. Also, his comment to pray for me felt like, “I can’t handle this but this makes me feel good about myself.”

My siblings aren’t bad people and if nothing else I hope that sharing my story helps them find a path to empathy, even if that’s a road we never travel together. I am proud of myself for standing in my truth regardless of the outcome. Going forward I likely won’t share another vulnerable moment like that with them. It’s time for me to move on.

I reached out an old male friend and asked if he had time to talk. I knew he wouldn’t be celebrating Mother’s Day because he was estranged from his mom. Over our decade of friendship, he’s occasionally given me a glimpse inside his fractured family. We talked for a long time about life and work. I never mentioned my pain. I was just content to remind myself that I had a good male connection in my life that cared for me just as I am. I later texted him and told him briefly what our conversation had meant to me, even if it seemed rather ordinary. He gave me a gift without even knowing it so I wanted him to know.

Later I received an e-mail from a family friend’s daughter who said that it had meant so much to her over the years that I always reached out to her on Mother’s Day since her mom had passed. She was now sitting down to do the same for another family friend. It was a much-needed breath of fresh air to know my small gestures did change her outlook on this day.

As I prepare for Mother’s Day this year, it helps to know I am not alone. That there are people who love me for who I am, and that I can make a difference to others helps me to take a deep breath and keep living.

Whiny Wednesday: An Explanation

Whiny_WednesdayWhiny Wednesday has become such a favorite on the blog and I know that many of you look forward to the chance to have a good rant about what’s on your mind.

For those of you who are new to Life Without Baby or maybe not sure what this Whiny Wednesday thing is all about, I thought an brief explanation might be in order.

Whiny Wednesday came about because many of us felt we were going through our respective journeys alone and that our friends and family often didn’t understand how much we were hurting. Many readers said felt they felt they had to put on a brave face around other people and that the things they wanted to talk about sometimes felt like “whining.”

So, Whiny Wednesday was created as the place where, once a week, you can come and vent about whatever’s on your mind, especially the things you feel you can’t say in-person around others. Most weeks I post a topic for discussion, but the comments are always open for griping about whatever happens to be on your mind.

So, now you know what it’s all about, feel free the have a really good whine this week.

You Are Not Alone: Finding My Tribe and Discovering New Friends

By Lisa Manterfield

The worst thing about moving 400 miles to the northern part of my state was leaving all my friends behind. In my new city, I knew exactly three people, plus one good friend who lived an hour’s drive away.

One week, while my husband was traveling, I spent much of the time alone, and frankly I felt a bit sorry for myself.

Then, on the Monday “Laura” sent me a copy of her book. I read a couple of chapters and it made me laugh. On Tuesday I spoke on the phone with “Paulina”, who was snowed under in Indiana. I’ve never met her, but we’ve become phone friends over the last couple of years.  Later in the week, I chatted by email to Monica and Jody, and made plans to have coffee with Kathleen. I also finalized lunch plans with Pamela, something we’d been trying to accomplish for months, and I discovered that a long-time LWB reader lived in the next town over, so we met for drinks.

I share one thing in common with all these women, and that is that we are childless, but beyond that I’ve discovered we have so much more to talk about, and that these women have become my friends.

When I was dealing with infertility, I didn’t have this community. Although my friends were supportive and kind, none of them had been through anything like it. I looked for an online community, but couldn’t find one where I felt comfortable. I really did feel that I went through that whole chapter of my life almost alone.

I started Life Without Baby to talk about life after infertility and to be heard, but the pleasant surprise for me is that I’ve finally found a wonderful community of women who want to talk, listen, help, and support one another. And we’re not just talking about infertility and being childless; we’re talking about books, gardening, travel, pets, family, you name it.

I know that many of us feel, or have felt, isolated in our childlessness, and that the web has enabled us to find our tribe. And beyond that commonality are the possibilities for friendships, and I encourage you to find those opportunities.

On the private community pages, you’ll find a chat feature, and the forums are always buzzing. There are regional groups and groups for different interests. Behind this password protected wall you can safely send messages to other members or say hello on their walls.  There are plenty of ways to make connections and hopefully to make some new friends.

2015-blog-challenge-badgeThis week (April 19-25) is National Infertility Awareness Week. Of the many, many lessons I’ve learned on my own infertility journey, perhaps the most important one—the one that made it survivable—is also this year’s theme: You Are Not Alone.

Whiny Wednesday: People Who Won’t Let You Quit

Whiny_WednesdayMost people in my life were supportive when I told them about my decision to end my quest for motherhood. But a couple didn’t want me to quit. They kept offering unsolicited advice and stories of other people’s miracles, when what I really needed from them was a kind and understanding word.

So this week’s whine topic is:

People who won’t let you quit

Happy whining!

Childless, Not by Choice: My Interview with Brian Lehrer

I had the pleasure of speaking with WNYC’s Brian Lehrer this morning about what it means to be childless-not-by-choice. I really appreciated the space he created for this conversation and I was touched by the courage of the callers who spoke openly and publicly about their own stories. It was a beautiful 20 minutes and it reminded me that none of us is alone on this journey.

You can hear the segment here:

Also, I understand that there were several more callers to the show that didn’t make it on air. If you’ve found your way here, please get in touch, either through the comments or the contact page. I also encourage you to visit the community pages, as that’s a safe, password-protected place to talk to other people and get support.

Thanks to everyone who helped make this conversation happen, and to you, for your support and encouragement.