Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Our Stories: Jen

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesJen, 43, defines herself as childfree “largely by circumstance.” After she developed polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) as the result of long-undiagnosed Type II Diabetes, she and her husband of 20 years chose not to pursue fertility treatments. Giving up her dream of motherhood hasn’t been easy (see her answer to the “hardest part”), but she’s got a positive outlook and some sage advice for the rest of us on this journey. This is her story.

LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood:

Jen: I wanted the whole experience—not just a baby, but a child, a teenager, and an adult child. I anticipated guiding my child to becoming a good person who liked his/herself and contributed positively to the world. I was prepared for the challenges, the detours, the heartaches, and I even knew how I wanted to handle all the negatives: with compassion (which I didn’t get a lot of from my own mother), consistent guidance, and lots of open dialogue. I wanted my children to know they belonged to a family that loved them, regardless of their inevitable faults. I wanted to pass down my family’s stories, recipes, gift of gab, and readiness to laugh.

 

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Jen: We realized, after consulting with doctors, a pregnancy would be extremely high-risk and dangerous—for both me and our baby. My husband lost his parents young; he was just three when his mother died, and he physically cared for his dad from the time he was 11 years old until he was 20, when his dad finally succumbed to his disease. When I was told I was probably going to have kids with disabilities and/or health problems—if I even carried a baby to term—and that my own health would be further compromised regardless of the outcome, we decided not to continue. I didn’t feel it was fair to expect my husband to repeat the sacrifices he’d had to make as a kid. By this time, we had been married for 17 years. We had spent a good long time as a couple without kids, so we felt the adjustment wouldn’t be too difficult.

 

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

Jen: I often feel my life has no purpose; I’m just filling it up with “stuff” and idle pursuits.

 

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

Jen: We have more disposable income, which allows us to enjoy more travel and entertainments.

 

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Jen: I’m still me. The only thing that has changed is what I expect from my life.

LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?

Jen: Don’t second-guess your decisions, and don’t be swayed by what someone else thinks you should do. Consider your partner and his needs. Remember, you married him to be with him, not just to have babies.

 

LWB: Where are you on your journey?

Jen: Very much embracing Plan B!

 

LWB: What do you look forward to now?

Jen: Taking my niece to Walt Disney World, getting more involved with the local community theatre, compiling my old family photos and stories in albums, and learning how to sleep in!

 

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.

Lessons Learned From The Brink: Finding Support and Community

By Paulina Grace Hay

People's mandala - 12 handsA personal crisis of any kind can quickly throw your own intuition off kilter.  It can also show you what support you do and do not have around you.  I seem to come back to the need for support and community over and over.  My immediate family is not an option and close friends live far away.  What’s a girl to do?  Here’s a stroll down my life tackling these issues*.

*If at any time my stepping stones don’t resonate with you, don’t sweat it.  We’re all different, go with what works for you.  A good guideline to determine what or who works in your life is, “Do you come away feeling energized/lighter or drained/weighed down?”

Here are a few avenues I’ve tried over the years:

Professional Therapist

I struggled with needing to talk to a “professional” about sorting and processing my emotions.  I still do at times.  However, I’m a talker and my love language is words of affirmation so talk therapy is a natural fit for me.  Having someone I trust who has no vested interest or active part in my day-to-day life is crucial.  Behind closed doors and the promise of confidentiality I can let it all hang out emotionally without fear of judgment or rejection.  My therapist is also a professional with an incredible wealth of knowledge.  He or she can provide me with an unbiased opinion and on what is happening plus new ways to deal with triggers.

I use this option on an “as needed” basis.  When I’m feeling out of sorts for an extended period of time I find going in can help me pinpoint an issue more quickly.

 

In Person Infertility Support Group

Initially it felt safer and easier to process my feelings in the safety of my own home, in a private therapist’s office or behind a computer screen.  Yet, at some point I felt it was important to let this seemingly broken part of myself out into the daylight.  Regardless, I don’t think anyone is pumped about attending her first infertility support group.  What I found there were beautiful, smart and funny women even in the midst of pain and heartbreak.  It was refreshing to talk about our challenges openly.  I liked seeing all the head nodding and saying, “Oh, yes, that’s happened to me, too.”  We shed tears together and laughed out loud a lot.  Hearing everyone’s stories gave me new perspectives on mine.  Most importantly, I knew I was not alone on this journey.

The hardest part of an in person group for me was when to decide to stop going.  Everyone’s stories helped me realize much faster that I was not cut out for 1 or multiple rounds of IVF.  I learned why adoption was not going to solve my desire to be pregnant and see my genes and my husband’s in a new life.  The biggest eye opener was that I saw how my life had come to a screeching halt because of infertility.  I wanted to live again.  After I had made my decision to live childfree I found that going to the group was confusing.  It made me second guess my decision because most women were still actively trying.  I stayed friends with a couple of the women for a while and that was a better option.  If there was an in-person group for childfree women after infertililty, I would consider going to that now.

 

Online Blogs and Support

I’m so grateful for the LifeWithoutBaby blog and Lisa’s work.  When it’s 3 am and you’re crying in the dark, a blog post can be a friend that gets you through to 7 am and daylight.  What makes LWB especially appealing to me is there are no surprise, “Oh, I’m pregnant so welcome to my mommy blog!” transformations.  At times, I have to be very selective on where I let online wandering take me.  When I was feeling low, the wrong blog could make me feel worse.  The internet is wonderful in all it offers but sometimes being a little sheltered when you’re vulnerable is not a bad thing!

I also appreciate the new opportunity to guest blog post and share my stories to help women like me.

 

Art Journaling

Credit: http://www.cathymalchiodi.com/

Even though I’m creative in my professional life, I hadn’t done art purely for enjoyment in decades.  After attending an art workshop retreat (a scary move but life changing) I realized that I wanted to create for my sake and not for profitability’s sake.  I learned about art journaling there.  An art or visual journal is an illustrated diary or journal on any theme.  I paint, collage, write, doodle, whatever I want in mine.  I’ll often use my journals to keep quotes I’ve found on line or even articles.  I put photos of women I admire or the kind of life I want to lead to help me remember what I want for myself.  I’ve met many wonderful women through art, too.

 

Get Out of the House

When I’ve felt unsure of my place in my own world, I push myself out the door to get out into other ones.  In the age of the Internet, there are so many ways to get involved in organizations and meet new people.  Here are some activities I’ve tried over the years.  Some were great, others were busts, but ultimately I feel if I keep trying new stuff, new good things are more likely to come my way.

  • Improv Class – one of my favorites.  I would laugh every week and who couldn’t use more of that?!
  • Attended a TEDx conference in a city an hour away by myself.  It was unnerving to not know anyone but I had an incredible lunch with an older woman who told me about her life story.  I also heard a speaker talk about a small girls rock camp that empowers girls in my city.  I’m now volunteering for that camp and have met all kinds of interesting women and I’m proud to help empower the next generation.
  • Signed up for GirlfriendCircles.com. My city didn’t have a lot of women participating but I actually met a couple of other childfree women and one has become a new friend.
  • Attended a MeetUp.com group for art and crafts.  Sure enough, I met more childfree women but it’s refreshing to have a different reason to connect and share.

My final thought is a favorite quote:

“Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

I’d love to hear how you have found support and community on your journey.

Paulina Grace walked away from the infertility roller coaster 6 years ago. She hopes to help other women let themselves grieve and then let themselves live. Outside of running her own business, Paulina fulfills her need to nurture by being an involved aunt and caring for her aging parents. 

Mother’s Day Retreat

beach-ocean4I know this is a tough weekend for many of you, as the Mother’s Day hoopla comes to head and you wrestle with taking care of yourself, fulfilling family obligations, and dodging the flippant “Happy Mother’s Day” greetings.

I thought we could use and emergency Whiny Weekend/Support/Retreat, so I’m posting this here and have also created a topic on the Community Forum, in case you need to just get away. I chose the image for this post so you can imagine yourself there if things get too wild.

So, hope you’re all doing okay. See you back here on Monday, when it will all be over.

 

Our Stories: Kelly A.

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesKelly A’s answer to “What do you look forward to now?” really struck a chord with me. She said, “I look forward to moving past depression and into the realm of acceptance. It seems like this is an unobtainable dream at this point of my darkest days.” I know exactly how she feels; I think many of us do. Yet, even in our darkest days (and for those of us in the U.S., that may coincide with the coming holiday weekend), we can find a glimmer of hope in our LWB sisters’ stories, for as Kelly said, “Seeing other women who have moved on gives me hope that I could be like them one day.”

If you are in your darkest days, I hope you’ll see in Kelly’s story that you are not alone. If you have moved on to brighter days, I hope you’ll share some encouragement in the Comments. Here’s more of Kelly’s story.

 

LWB: Please describe your dream of motherhood.

Kelly: I wanted to become a mother my entire life. When I hit my mid-20s, the urge struck pretty hard. My dream was to have a child that I could pour my love into, to have a child that I would raise with complete love.

 

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

Kelly: After I got out of a long relationship, I started working out, losing weight, and preparing myself to have a baby. My plan was to go to a sperm bank and just be a single mother by choice. I then become romantic with my husband (who was an old friend), and I was so happy because I didn’t have to use the sperm bank. I thought together we could make our dreams of having a loving family come true.

After I timed intercourse a few times and did not get pregnant, I had a gut instinct that something was wrong. I insisted on fertility testing and found out I had PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome). I also had thyroid cancer that year, so that messed with my hormones. I gained a lot of weight, which led to anovulatory cycles. My husband got tested and found out he had primary testicular failure and produced a miniscule amount of sperm. He had surgery, but it was an utter failure. In fact, his counts were even lower after. It’s possible we could use a donor sperm, or IVF, but I have gained so much weight, and we don’t really have the money.

 

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Kelly: Depressed. I don’t believe in miracles when it comes to infertility. It’s pure random luck.

 

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

Kelly: Not having anyone understand my pain. They say, “How can you be sad for something that never existed?”

 

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

Kelly: Being able to be selfish and only focus on my husband and myself. Traveling on a whim, staying up late, going to bars and restaurants, and talking crap about annoying parents with my childless and childfree friends.

 

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

Kelly: I’d like people to understand that childfree (childless) people exist at all, and our lives still have value. For example, in my state of Arizona several years back, the Medicare system dropped all childless adults from its ranks. To be blatantly told that my life didn’t have enough value to justify health care, because I don’t have children, is so wrong.

 

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Kelly: I just say no, then I tell them that that my husband and I are infertile. I enjoy the awkward silences in a sick way! When I’m really lucky, I meet other childless people who open up to me after hearing this news.

 

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Kelly: It helped tremendously to read about other people’s struggles, to know that I’m not alone on those days when it feels like everyone else has a baby and that I’m a freak of nature. To know that my life still has value even though my body and my husband’s body can’t give life. When I read other LWB readers’ words, I see people who are worthwhile in their love, attention, fun, pain, and life, and I am amongst their ranks.

 

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. This weekend she will be celebrating “Nurturer’s Day” to acknowledge teachers, aunties, nurses, caregivers, and all the “worthwhile” women who give “their love, attention, and fun” to better other’s lives.

 

My Big (Unconventional) Mother’s Day Plans

Image courtesy TSNY/Bob Holzman

Image courtesy TSNY/Bob Holzman

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past month and haven’t turned on the TV, logged onto Facebook, been to a grocery, drug, or card store, or checked your mail or your email box, you’re probably already aware that Mother’s Day is upon us. In my book this day easily trumps Halloween, Christmas, and Valentine’s Day combined for the worst day of the year to not have children.

I’ve written about Mother’s Day woes in the past (see below for some reruns), but this year I’m taking back the day.

Two years ago my friend and I bought Groupons for trapeze lessons. We somehow never managed to organize a date to go and last month we realized our passes would expire on May 14. We quickly scrambled our calendars and found a day we were both free. Sunday May 11 was the only option. I mean, what else would two childless women with British mothers have to do that day?

So, that’s it. We’re going. And honestly, I can’t think of a more fitting way to take back what was once the saddest day of my year than by flying through the air with the greatest of ease, as a magnificent non-mom on my flying trapeze!

***

If you’re struggling with Mother’s Day, here are a few past posts and encouraging comments that I hope will help.

My Bah Humbug to Mother’s Day, But Not to Mother (May, 2010)

Breaking Up with Mother’s Day (May 2011)

It Got Me Thinking…About Nurturers (May 2012)

Preparedness (May 2012)

Duck, Weave, or Cover? (May 2012)

Mother’s Day (May 2013)

Living Childfree With No Regrets

A few weeks ago, I spoke at Fertility Planit on the topic of Living Childfree with No Regrets. I was honored to share the stage with Tracey Cleantis and Lynn Newman Zavaro, both of whom shared their infertility stories in a very frank and open conversation.

If you’d like to join the conversation, make yourself a cup of tea and cozy up to the video below. I hope you enjoy it.

 

If you’re not able to see the embedded video above, you can also download it to watch here.

Tree Planting for Non-Motherhood

By Paula Coston

Tree planting 22 March 14 025In Jewish culture, it’s an ancient tradition to plant a tree on the birth of a child: a cedar for a boy, a cypress for a girl. The child would then care for the tree; when she or he married, they would stand under a canopy made of its branches. There’s a Jewish text: ‘A person’s life is sustained by trees. Just as others planted for you, plant for the sake of your children.’ (Midrash Tanchuma Kedoshim 8)

I live in the UK, and in our country of Wales, over the last two years, hundreds of thousands of trees have been planted as part of a project to grow a sapling for every new baby born or adopted in the region.
But childless women like us have no upcoming generations. So my thoughts have returned recently to an inspirational woman in her late eighties. I already shared in a personal post here the wonderful gesture made by  Salumarada Thimmakka, who lives in rural India. Teased and despised in her village community as a young wife without children, despite her gruelling job in a quarry she began to plant saplings, treating them lovingly every day as her own ‘offspring’. Gradually they grew into a stately, shady avenue of 284 banyan trees, now worth millions of dollars.Meanwhile, the U.S. has a time-honoured tradition of mass tree planting, with a dedicated day, Arbor Day, for which the commonest date amongst the various states is the last Friday in April. People, young and old, take part. The day’s founder, J. Sterling Morton, declared 140 years ago, “Each generation takes the earth as trustees”, again linking this activity to the upcoming generations.

Why not, like her, plant trees for the children we never had?

Tree planting 22 March 14 022

A few weeks ago, I discovered that the council in my pretty little Cotswold town in England was funding a new tree planting scheme along the banks of our renovated canal and fringing the ridges of my local park, overlooking a lake and weir: silver birches, rowans, oaks, maples. I saw a chance, and invited a childless friend and neighbour along.

On Saturday March 22, we found ourselves under a spring sun flitting behind black clouds and threatening rainbows over the hills and valleys while we helped to dig holes, scoop moist earth round young roots, funnel weather guards over the saplings’ baby heads and drive in stakes to support them. I found myself asking the name of each plant, in some weird sense bonding with it, and even – unashamedly – talking to it as if it was a child. Kneeling beside the bed of each root ball, teasing out those little water-seeking veins, taking a moment to think about what I’d lost but what I was now giving to something living, was surprisingly moving and reviving.

Tree planting 22 March 14 037

My neighbour finds it hard to talk about her loss of children, but somehow, too busy digging to feel self-conscious, backs turned on each other, we began telling our personal stories of childlessness to each other.

On an impulse, I took out some postcards I was carrying in my backpack. For each young, vital thing I planted, I wrote a message to a child I never had and posted it into the tree’s new resting place among the soil. It didn’t cure my pain, but it felt like part of an answer.

I discovered something simple: that gardening, nurturing something other than a child, is great therapy for childlessness.

Paula Coston writes on childlessness, the older woman and singledom at her blog, http://boywoman.wordpress.com. Her novel, On the Far Side, There’s a Boy, comes out in June. It’s about an Englishwoman from the 1980s to now and her gradual discovery, through a link with a little boy in Sri Lanka, that she will never have a partner or children.