Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Whiny Wednesday: A Pregnancy Announcement

I just received a pregnancy announcement in the mail. Let me repeat that. I just received a pregnancy announcement in the mail, not a birth announcement, but a card informing me of a potential birth, a birth that is forecast to happen next year!

I was especially surprised because I’d seen the return address on the envelope and knew that the sender was a woman in her late 50s! Turns out it was an announcement of a grandchild-to-be. I know. But wait, it gets stranger. Tucked inside the card was a copy of a sonogram image of my friend’s daughter-in-law’s uterus and her 12-week old peanut.

Now granted, I’m a little old-fashioned in these regards. Coming from a culture that subscribes to the “don’t count your chickens until they’re hatched” mantra, it took me a while to adapt to the idea of baby showers and giving gifts before a baby is born. And frankly, after my own dabbling in infertility, and having heard your stories, I’m beginning to think that this notion of waiting isn’t so old-fashioned after all.

To say this least, this pregnancy announcement caught me off guard and, all things considered, I think a phone call would have sufficed, don’t you?

It’s Whiny Wednesday and this is what’s under my skin this week. What’s under yours?

Whiny Wednesday: A Pregnancy Announcement

I just received a pregnancy announcement in the mail. Let me repeat that. I just received a pregnancy announcement in the mail, not a birth announcement, but a card informing me of a potential birth, a birth that is forecast to happen next year!

I was especially surprised because I’d seen the return address on the envelope and knew that the sender was a woman in her late 50s! Turns out it was an announcement of a grandchild-to-be. I know. But wait, it gets stranger. Tucked inside the card was a copy of a sonogram image of my friend’s daughter-in-law’s uterus and her 12-week old peanut.

Now granted, I’m a little old-fashioned in these regards. Coming from a culture that subscribes to the “don’t count your chickens until they’re hatched” mantra, it took me a while to adapt to the idea of baby showers and giving gifts before a baby is born. And frankly, after my own dabbling in infertility, and having heard your stories, I’m beginning to think that this notion of waiting isn’t so old-fashioned after all.

To say this least, this pregnancy announcement caught me off guard and, all things considered, I think a phone call would have sufficed, don’t you?

It’s Whiny Wednesday and this is what’s under my skin this week. What’s under yours?

The Five Stages of Grief

In her 1969 book On Death and Dying, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross described the five stages of grief as Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. If you’ve been given a diagnosis of infertility, suffered the loss of a pregnancy or baby, or you’ve reached a point in your life where you realize that motherhood just isn’t on the cards, odds are you’re all too familiar with these five stages.

Have you ever caught yourself saying some of these things?

“This can’t be happening to me?” “I’m perfectly healthy; what do you mean my tubes are blocked?” “I’m only 38; I’m too young to be infertile.” “I’m 42; there’s still time.”

That’s the Denial talking.

“It’s not fair.” “Why me?” “She doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” “Why is there no logic to the way blessings are handed out?”

That would be the Anger Stage.

How about: “I’ll just try this one last thing and then I’ll stop.” “If I can just relax, I know it will happen.” “If I lower my expectations, maybe I’ll meet someone worthy of being the father of my children.”

Yup. Bargaining.

“If I can’t be a mother, what’s the point of me?” “I must have done something to bring this on myself.” “No one understands what I’m going through. I feel so alone.”

Classic Depression.

“It’s going to be okay.” “So, you don’t always get what you want. At least I have my health/husband/career/golden retriever.”

This is at least the start of Acceptance.

As Kübler-Ross pointed out, the stages don’t always happen in this order, or in any logical sequence at all. May you got stuck in anger for a long time and skipped the bargaining all together, or maybe you went straight to acceptance, only to slip on one of life’s banana peels and end up right back in depression.

The thing is, it’s okay, it’s normal, and it won’t last forever.

Kübler -Ross applied her theory to death. In this situation, some people struggle with death until the end. Some psychologists believe that the harder a person fights death, the more likely they will be to stay in the denial stage, and the less likely they are to die in a dignified way.

Unlike someone facing death, we have somewhere to go after our losses. We have the chance for a new, if different, life. And while going through the five stages can be ugly and unpleasant, the key is to come out the other end with our dignity intact.

Octomom’s Doctor Loses License

By Kathleen Guthrie

Michael Kamrava, the Beverly Hills fertility specialist who transferred 12 embryos to Nadya Suleman and launched her career as “Octomom” (she delivered octuplets in 2008), has lost his medical license.

Read the full story here.

A judge initially recommended Kamrava be put on probation for five years for impregnating Suleman, who was already struggling to care for six children as an unemployed single mother.  However, the medical review board of California, finding Kamrava “committed gross negligence, repeated negligent acts, and incompetence” in this case and at least two other cited cases, instead decided to pull his license.

It’s about f*&%ing time.

He claims he was just doing his job, by giving the patient what she wanted. I think what he did was unconscionable. What do you think?

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She believes there is a special place in hell for the charlatans who take advantage of women struggling with infertility. 

Whiny Wednesday

I just had the period from hell.

I had a week of PMS – bloated like the Hindenburg, cranky like a tiger with a sore paw, coupled with the dull ache of expectation that comes along with it. All this followed by three days, count ‘em, THREE days of cramps, and not just the niggling type, but the “I can’t get off the couch” type. And for what? Nothing!!! My body is going through its happy little reproductive cycle for absolutely nothing!!

Oh, I know that menopause will hit me soon enough and bring its own little joys, but right now, a menstrual cycle that I have absolutely no use for just feels like a slap in the face.

In our house, it’s been Whiny Wednesday all week, but today is the official day to say what’s on your mind, so go for it. Whine away, ladies.

How Did You Know You Wouldn’t Have Children?

I write a lot about issues that affect me now that I’ve more or less come to terms with the fact that I won’t have children. Looking back over the past two or three years, I can see just how far I’ve come, and I’m pleased. Unfortunately, that’s not always very helpful for readers just beginning their journeys and sometimes I’m asked, “How did you get there?”

It’s a good question, but it doesn’t have a simple answer, so I thought I’d take a look back at some of the milestones that shaped my journey and try to analyze what made a difference for me.

Today, I’m starting with The Decision. How did you know you were going have to figure out how to come to terms with being childfree?

If you dealt with infertility, a doctor probably gave you a diagnosis that you knew would mean the end of the line, but if you were anything like me, you didn’t just throw up your hands at that point and say, “Okay, well I guess I just won’t bother trying anymore, then.” So, when did you know you were at that point?

If you are childfree by some circumstance other than infertility, maybe your journey was different. Maybe you toyed with the idea of having children despite your situation. How did you know that motherhood was definitely not going to be a part of your future?

And if you are childfree-by-choice, when did you know you wouldn’t have children?

I think all our stories are different, because it’s such a big milestone in our lives and not something that changes in an instant. For me, a number of factors were in play, but I think the biggest one was that I knew my husband and I were suddenly on different tracks. I think that he knew (although he didn’t like it) that it wasn’t going happen for us, whereas I was still running from doctor to doctor trying to find something that would work. I could feel us begin to drift apart and I finally realized that my marriage was more important to me than trying to prove that I wasn’t infertile.

“Don’t you mean you realized that your marriage was more important than having children, Lisa?”

No. And that’s one of the other factors in this. I realized that my quest was no longer about having children; it was about winning and proving that I wasn’t broken. My doctor had told me that using donor eggs would give me about a 50 percent chance of conceiving, but I didn’t want to use donor eggs and I didn’t want to go through IVF. That was my choice for my own reasons. But if having children was my top priority, wouldn’t I have done whatever it takes?

This is way too much public psychoanalysis for me right now, so let’s just say that my decision to get off the crazy train came slowly. There were many events that happened that pushed me towards the decision and many more that made me change my mind again along the way. Eventually though, I reached the Tipping Point and started figuring out how I was going to come to terms with the fact that something was wrong with me and that I wasn’t going to have children.

How about you? How did you get to that point? Please share your stories; yours could be the one that makes a big difference to someone who is trying to start coming to terms.

It Got Me Thinking…About Inappropriate Invitations

By Kathleen Guthrie

Yesterday afternoon, I received an online invitation to a networking event for entrepreneur moms. I did a little bit of research before replying, and quickly figured out that the invitation came from a “friend” on Facebook, an old friend from elementary school, who had invited every person on her friends list. So I can’t take in personally, and I didn’t include a comment with my RSVP explaining why I wouldn’t be attending. But, boy, just for kicks, I’d love to invite her to an infertility awareness seminar.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s mostly at peace with her decision to be childfree.

Let’s Talk About Sex

A new reader, let’s call her Kerry, contacted me recently and had this to say:

“I’m in the coming-to-terms stage. Being 35 and on the crazy train for 5 years is enough for my husband and me.  I would like to hear from others about how to deal with (sigh…) loss of libido.  I assume I’m not the only one?  But I don’t know what to do about it, other than see a therapist, and I don’t really know how that will help anyway.  I used to have a sex drive like a MAN and TTC seems to have killed it almost completely.  This causes me much sadness, embarrassment and anger, and I have no idea how to fix my body’s refusal to enjoy sex!  I want to get back to enjoying my life, and this is a huge barrier.”

Let’s face it: having sex on-demand is like being force-fed chocolate. It sounds like a lot of fun at first, but it doesn’t take long for the novelty to wear off.

If you’ve been on the TTC (trying to conceive) merry-go-round, you know all about charting fertility and the mad scramble for the bedroom when that little line on the ovulation test stick shows up. After just a couple of months of failed attempts, it’s difficult to muster the enthusiasm to keep trying, especially as the success of the mission depends so much on both people being “in the mood” and even “in the moment.” Add to that the fact that the most intimate parts of your anatomy have been paraded before countless doctors, and the whole think quickly loses its allure.

From my own experience, I remember how sex became a frustrating chore and how quickly it stopped being about fun or even love. I also found that, once sex was associated with trying to conceive and all the emotional baggage that comes along with it, it was hard to separate the two again. But it’s possible.

I am no expert on the psychology of sex and libido, but I can speak from my own experience, so I will.

It does come back. It takes time and it’s part of the healing process. Once my husband and I got some distance from our experience and were truly on the road to moving on, we were able to focus on one another again, and the love that brought us together in the first place was still there. In fact, I think that the experience we went through together has brought us closer in many ways. We talked about it a lot (a LOT!!) and both agreed that, as awful as the infertility experience was, we were glad we went through it with each other, and not with someone else. In many ways, it has brought us closer and it helps to remember that.

As for getting the old libido back on track, pick up almost any women’s magazine and it will have an article on rekindling the passion – warm bath, candles, lingerie, toys. I think the trick is finding the thing that works for you. Warm baths and candles, for instance, are a sure way to put me to sleep. Here’s what does work for me. [Note to my husband: you should have stopped reading this post about five paragraphs ago. Sorry.] Commit to a minute. Just one minute. Even if you’re not in the mood, you can do anything for a minute. Agree that if it’s going nowhere after a minute, you’ll stop. Odds are, once you’re actually in the throes of intimacy, the rest will follow.

Ladies, what has been your experience in this department? Do you have any advice for Kerry? Please share it.

Healing Through Creativity

Just a quick reminder for anyone considering attending the Healing Through Creativity workshop next month. We have five spots still to be filled and the Early Bird Special price is good through May 31.

If you are thinking of attending but can’t yet make a commitment, please drop me a note through the Suggest a Topic link, just so I know you’re interested.

This first workshop is “Finding Your Identity After Infertility.” All the details can be found here.

More workshops are planned for later in the year, so stay tuned.

Infertility, Men, and Communication

Kathleen sent this article to me this week. It’s a kind of “Top tips” for men going through infertility. I really appreciated the writer’s ability to find humor in this topic, and I admire that he was able to step back from his own experience (he and his wife now have three children) and offer some advice to other men who find themselves in this situation.

As we’ve discussed before, there seem to be so few resources aimed at men. While it’s often we women who go through the worst of the testing and unpleasant procedures, it’s easy to forget that the men involved are working through their own confusion, conflicting emotions, and sadness.

Here’s a man who tried to do the right thing. He gave his wife flowers after every failed procedure. What a nice guy! Except that, from his wife’s point-of-view, the flowers were just a reminder of the failure she felt.

His discussion about the importance of communication is dead on, and I think that it remains true even if you’ve decided to stop treatments, or if you’ve otherwise decided that children are not in your future. We humans can be fickle creatures and our big life decisions are seldom clear-cut. We waver, we reconsider, and we’re affected by events in our environment. Talking about this is critical.

I know I’m often guilty of keeping my thoughts to myself so as not to upset my husband (although he does read this blog from time-to-time, so it’s hard to have too many secrets!) But experience has shown me that being honest about what’s going on means fewer surprises for him and fewer, “I had no idea…” conversations.