Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About My Four-Legged “Kid”

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods 

When I adopted my first dog, Beau, my girlfriends were convinced that he would be a man magnet. “Guys will come up to you at the beach and the park.” “Your dog is so cute! Guys will totally want to play with him.” “You have to take your dog running—hot guys will totally be attracted to you!”

Turns out Beau did indeed have a magnetic personality, but what he attracted were “guys”—and girls—in the 2 to 12 age group. “Oh my gawd! Your puppy is soooooo cute!” “Can I pet him? Does he bite?” (Fortunately, no…unless you’re a cat.) “Arf arf!” (That last one came from all the really little kids who tried to “talk” in dog language.)

In the early stages of accepting my childfreeness, such encounters could be painful. I’d think about how cute the kids were, how much I wished they were my own, and I’d lose myself in my loss. But over time, I began to cherish, even look forward to, these brief connections in what is otherwise a quiet daily life. In hindsight, I’ve thought about how they’ve helped me in the healing process. Trailing alongside as Beau served as neighborhood goodwill ambassador, I felt less isolated and more a part of my community. As he lapped up the hugs and cuddles, I got drawn into friendly conversations with strangers. Not “strangers,” just other humans seeking, like me, to give and receive a bit of affection.

Beau has since passed on to the dog park in the sky, or as dog lovers sometimes say, he’s crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. These days my walking companion is Louie, a rowdy, wicked-smart, completely devoted cattle dog-Corgi mix my husband and I adopted several years ago. (That’s Louie on the left and Beau on the right below.) He is not really my “kid”, he will never take the place of the children of my heart, but he is one of the great loves of my life, and I am so grateful for the joy he brings me.

I’ll bet many of you have also realized how much your four-legged companions have helped you through tough times. If you don’t have a pet, consider volunteering at a shelter to play with the animals, offer to walk a neighbor’s dog, or simply stop someone on the street and ask if you can pet his/her dog. If you are the lucky human of a beloved pet, I hope you’ll share a story in the comments of how s/he has brightened your world. We could all use a little extra dose of light and love today.

 

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

Our Stories: Noël

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesJust 43, Noël* has entered pre-menopause and is “finding that my days are so hard to deal with lately”. I hear that! It’s not enough that we’re dealing with the grief of losing our dreams, we also get to face the challenges of our bodies going through The Change. Where’s the good news?

Noël has found some inspiration in the form of a personal chero (a hero who happens to be childfree), a friend from high school who made her own choice to not have children. “She is a career person and does her job very well,” Noël says. “She wants the freedom, and she never looked back.”

Here’s more of Noël’s story. I hope you’ll find some encouragement here and start thinking about who your personal cheros might be and how they might inspire you.

LWB: Please briefly describe your dream of motherhood?

Noël: I ran out of time. I didn’t want to be a single parent, and my husband didn’t want any more children. I made a choice not to have any.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Noël: I’m angry at times, and it’s depressing to see nieces around me popping out kids. It’s hard to be around them, and I don’t ever want to take care of anyone else’s kids!

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Noël: When I got married for the first time at 40, I realized that I had to make a choice. My husband, who already has two, didn’t want any more kids.

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

Noël: My last conversation with my mother before her unexpected death was when I was engaged. She asked if I was going to have any children, and I told her no. She wished for a “mini” me of myself, and it still hurts to think about that conversation. I see my sisters with their grown kids and know I will never have that bond. I will always be the “aunt”, and no one ever calls the aunt unless they need something.

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

Noël: Freedom to do whatever I want. Travel! That’s a plus!

LWB: What do you look forward to now?

Noël: Being extremely good at what I do and saving for my future. I have also thought about volunteering in other countries for children who are less fortunate.

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

Noël: “Do you really want to reproduce your family history?” LOL! I have some bad seeds among my brothers, and I always think about that. You never know what you’re going to pop out, eh?

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Noël: I don’t need children to help me feel complete and happy. I’m already happy.

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

Where are you on your journey? Are your wounds raw? Have you made some progress toward accepting a life without children? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.

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

Whiny Wednesday: “Netflix, You Don’t Know Me At All”

I hopped on Netflix recently after something a hiatus. I was in the mood for a movie, but had nothing in mind, so I was delighted to see that Netflix had come up with a Top Ten Suggestions for me. This is what they thought I would like to watch:

Friends with Kids

(Synopses courtesy of IMDb): “Two best friends decide to have a child together while keeping their relationship platonic, so they can avoid the toll kids can take on romantic relationships.”

The Pill

“Worried that he has gotten the free-spirited Mindy pregnant after an unprotected one-night stand, Fred feigns romantic interest and sticks by her side for twelve hours to make sure she takes both doses of the morning-after pill.”

The Switch

“Seven years after the fact, a man comes to the realization that he was the sperm donor for his best friend’s boy.”

Apparently Netfilx is keeping a close eye on my online activity, but like the old Google ads for baby products that used to pop up on this site (before I cut them off!), I don’t think understand me at all.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s causing you to shake your head in dismay today?

Whiny Wednesday: Kid Hater

Whiny WednesdayThis post was originally published in 2013 and it still makes me livid. You can see the original post and comments here.

Overheard outside my local café last week:

“I have three kids and I hate all of them.”

Can someone please explain to me why this jack@$$ gets to have the privilege of being a parent when so many lovely people I know (including myself) don’t?

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s got you spitting nails this week?

Whiny Wednesday: “Netflix, You Don’t Know Me At All”

Whiny_Wednesday

I hopped on Netflix recently after something a hiatus. I was in the mood for a movie, but had nothing in mind, so I was delighted to see that Netflix had come up with a Top Ten Suggestions for me. This is what they thought I would like to watch:

Friends with Kids

(Synopses courtesy of IMDb): “Two best friends decide to have a child together while keeping their relationship platonic, so they can avoid the toll kids can take on romantic relationships.”

The Pill

“Worried that he has gotten the free-spirited Mindy pregnant after an unprotected one-night stand, Fred feigns romantic interest and sticks by her side for twelve hours to make sure she takes both doses of the morning-after pill.”

The Switch

“Seven years after the fact, a man comes to the realization that he was the sperm donor for his best friend’s boy.”

Apparently Netfilx is keeping a close eye on my online activity, but like the old Google ads for baby products that used to pop up on this site (before I cut them off!), I don’t think understand me at all.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s causing you to shake your head in dismay today?

It Got Me Thinking…About Kids on Planes (part II)

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A second airline has added a childfree “Quiet Zone” and the debate continues! Read the news here.

Asia Air has announced this new service, available for a fee in 2013, and I learned of it in a “mommy” column in my city’s newspaper’s online site. Normally I wouldn’t read anything with “mommy” in it, and I almost never read the comments (usually so snarky), but I couldn’t resist seeing how this cause was faring. And guess what? It’s getting more support!

What do you think? How much extra would you pay for a seat in the Quiet Zone?

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

It Got Me Thinking…About Those People

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Last night I attended a production of Beauty and the Beast at an elementary school. First of all, I was knocked out by the stage presence, talents, and enthusiam of the young performers (mostly nine and ten-year-olds, I think). Second, it was a hoot being part of the audience. I was there as a supportive aunt, alongside parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, and friends of all ages. We cheered every entrance, laughed and applauded mid-scene, gave the cast a thunderous standing ovation, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It was riotous, rambunctious, and so much fun.

Considering the context, I found it interesting that the couple seated in front of us shot daggers at our row whenever my young nephew piped up. “That was HILARIOUS!” he’d say, in response to a character’s funny line or expression. “Did you see the salt and pepper?” he asked, during the big “Be Our Guest” musical number. It seemed each time he had something to say, Those People turned abruptly in their seats and shot us The Look.

Come on, people! We were surrounded by cranky babies, chatting adults, and distracted children (tantrum in the side aisle, anyone). It was noisy, it was chaotic, it was fun! This wasn’t a Shakespeare tragedy performed by revered actors. This was kids, doing the unexpected things kids do, surrounded by an audience of kids (young and old) who behaved…well…appropriately.

Shushing my nephew and occasionally covering his mouth didn’t diminish the noise around us, and also didn’t put an end to The Looks. I caught myself thinking, I wonder if they’re childfree? Certainly I’ve been at the receiving end of kicks to the back of my seat and been annoyed beyond reason when a screaming baby drowns out the pivotal speech of an Oscar-worthy performance. (Take the kid outside! Get a sitter!) I’ve given The Look, too. But not here, not now. I don’t want to be one of Those People, who give people-who-happen-to-be-childfree a bad rap, who perpetuate the stereotype that “childfree” is the equivalent of “child-hater.”

I feel sorry for them. Those People missed the point of the evening. While they grimaced and frowned, the rest of us created wonderful memories by getting swept up into the total chaos of a kids’ show, with all the goofs, good humor, and, yes, noisiness that comes with it. I wouldn’t have wanted any less.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s at work on a memoir about her journey to being childfree.

A Great Place to Raise Kids

I live in “a great place to raise kids.” People have been telling me this since before I made the decision to leave L.A. and make this my part-time home.

I love it here. I can walk into town for just about any service I need. I can walk or bike from my house along a creekside path that takes me out into the vineyards. A ten-minute drive away is a huge State Park, where I can hike, bike, look for birds, and enjoy the peacefulness of the countryside. For me, this is a great place to live.

I didn’t give much thought to it being a great place to raise kids until my neighbor stopped me one day last week. She and her husband run a day care center in their house and even as I write this post, I can hear the kids playing and squealing in the backyard. It doesn’t bother me. I enjoy their laughter, and when things turn ugly – as they’re apt to do later in the afternoon around nap time – I get to enjoy one of those “Phew, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that tantrum” moments.

But last week, the neighbor lady made a welcome gesture to join her and her friends for cocktails one night. “We have a great group of ladies here in the neighborhood,” she told me. “You’ll love them.” But I realize that in this “great place to raise kids” this woman’s great group of ladies all have kids too.

I was struck with an image of myself sitting on the couch, clutching a pina colada and staring like a deer in the headlights as the neighbor asked me if my husband and I are going to have kids, while a dozen pairs of inquisitive eyes bore into the new girl, waiting to hear her answer.

I’ve lived in L.A. for 18 years. I barely know any of my neighbors because, as a general rule, L.A. is a great place to be anonymous and neighbors don’t often come around to introduce themselves. As a woman without children, it’s a great place to blend into the background. But here in “a great place to raise kids” I’m starting to worry that I might not fit in after all.

The Game of Life

Courtesy Hasbro Games

My brother and his wife are very open with their children and talk to them about all kinds of things my mother would never have brought up in conversation with me. And somewhere along the line I know they’ve answered questions from their children about me and my lack of offspring. One of my nephews (let’s call him “Frank,” because he is – always) even asked me flat out why I don’t have children. So I told him.

I’m actually glad for this openness; it’s allowed me to practice answering direct questions honestly in a situation where they’re asked in pure innocence. When someone asks out of nosiness, I already know I can say, “I tried, but I couldn’t.”

On my recent trip home I conned my nieces and nephews into playing Game of Life with me. As I loaded pink and blue pegs into my car, “Frank” said, “It’s funny that you have so many children in the game when you don’t have any in real life.”

And then the cool, calm, well-practiced me snapped, “Well, you don’t have a yacht in real life either!”

Yes, sometimes I have this whole thing under control, and sometimes all the embarrassment and insecurities come rushing back at me and I bite off some poor innocent bystander’s head.

Frank, if you’re reading this post when you’re not supposed to, I’m sorry I snapped at you. And I know you’ll be mad that I called you “Frank” in this story, so I’m sorry for that too. And you’re right. It is funny that I always end up with a ton of kids in the game. It’s funny that I end up at the Millionaire’s Mansion sometimes too. If one of those doesn’t come true in real life, maybe the other one will. If it does, I promise to take you out on my yacht. Love, Auntie Lisa –x-

My Ex’s Kids

It’s happened to me a few times over the years. The first time an ex resurfaced was pre-Facebook through a site called Friends Reunited. He was my first true love and it was fun to see his face and remember the good times we had when we were way too young (and thankfully smart enough) to do anything more than fantasize about getting married and having kids together. When he told me about his wife and two little girls, I felt a little melancholy for the life I could have had, but knew I made the right choice when we broke up and I pursued a different life.

The next run-in was in-person with the ex-fiancé who had never wanted kids. I ran into him with his new wife and daughter when I was right in the thick of my infertility madness. That time I was livid, furious, jealous, feeling that the world had done me wrong, thinking how he’d wasted five years of my life and frittered away my chance to have children of my own.  Fortunately my husband was with me at the time and I was instantly reminded that my ex’s lack of desire for children wasn’t the only reason we were no longer together.

This week another ex resurfaced on the dreaded Facebook. He was a high school boyfriend and we “went out” for a few months, as I recall. Nice guy, but I think I was probably about 15 at the time. He friended me on FB and I accepted, and of course went straight to his photos to look for evidence of his current life. There were photos of two little blonde girls and him playing board games with them, and I felt…nothing. No envy, no sadness, not even relief.

We all choose our paths in life. Sometimes the path choses us, but even then we still have choices to make about how we walk that path. I didn’t plan to have a life without children, but I always planned to have a good life, and I do. When I look at the lives I might have had with the men I might have had them with, I realize that they weren’t the life I wanted. I like my life, it’s a good life, and even if it’s a life without children, it’s still the life I want.