Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

It Got Me Thinking…About New Windows

By Kathleen Guthrie

“Don’t spend time beating on a wall, hoping to transform it into a door.” – Coco Chanel

A good friend forwarded the above quote to me, during a time when both of us were struggling with work challenges. It seemed again and again we were bumping into the same issues, with the same client. At some point, I had to stop and ask myself, “Can I really change what’s going on here, or am I the one who needs to change?”

Like many of you, as I scrambled through the final stages of my potential childbearing years, I frantically concocted Plans A, B, and C. I’ll work the online dating thing and find the man who will marry me and be the perfect father! I’ll google sperm banks and find a handsome and Harvard-educated donor! I’ll adopt! Didn’t matter how hard I beat that wall, none of my plans opened up the parenthood door for me.

Now, resigned to being childfree, I may have given up on finding that one particular door, but I’m still interested in what is outside the box I built for myself, the one that confines me and my worth in our society only to the role of “mother.” I’m now looking for windows. The view to the east shows me as my nephews’ favorite aunt, the adult who is always there for them. To the west, I am a prolific novelist, with time and energy to create great characters. South of here, my husband and I become world travelers. The window facing north reveals an open landscape, allowing my imagination to expand beyond the horizon to who knows what.

The end of the year is traditionally a time to reflect as well as to think about goals, dreams, and resolutions for the new year. As you prepare for a new beginning, I invite you to lower your fists, lick your wounds, and start looking for your window. There’s a whole world of possibilities out there, outside of this box. Let’s go explore.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Like Ms. Chanel, she is childfree.

What would you change?

According to recent news, “Beauty queen-turned-international TV personality Maria Menounos has announced she’s freezing her eggs to make sure she can be a mom once she has achieved all her career goals.”

Menounos goes on to say: “We’re going to freeze our eggs so that we have no problems down the line.”

And I’m biting my tongue, because I want this to be true for her. When she’s ready to be a mom, I hope she gets her dream. And I’m sitting on my inner cynic, who’s yammering on about it not being so simple as that, and how life doesn’t always work out as planned. I don’t want to be that bitter old crone who has to rain on everyone else’s parade, just because my own parade had a monsoon.

So, I’m not going to do it (although I think I just did) but instead I ask you this: If you knew then what you know now, would you change anything?

I have my own answer, but I’m curious to hear yours.

It Got Me Thinking…About God

By Kathleen Guthrie

The God I know is a tough broad. She can handle anything I dish out, and over the past two decades, She’s gotten an earful: I’m ready, where is my Mr. Right?! Is your divine plan really to keep me this lonely, miserable, and broke forever? Could you be a little more specific with your instructions about what I’m supposed to be doing with my life?

I’ve made peace with most of my youthful longings. I now know the last loser I almost settled for was not worthy, and that my Mr. Right was worth the wait. I’ve accepted and embraced that this is a co-partnership, and if I’m feeling lonely, miserable, and broke, it’s my responsibility to make changes. Furthermore, I’ve discovered that the plans God had for me are beyond anything I had imagined for myself.

But there’s one bitch-session I can’t yet get past: How come that drug-abusing, child-neglecting “mother” got to have all those sweet babies and I got jack?!? How come You, the all-loving, omnipotent God of everything, has denied the prayers of so many wonderful women, has robbed them of the beauty and privileges of becoming amazing mothers?

Because, like many of you, I prayed my heart out for miracles. I begged. I negotiated. And I cursed. Maybe She has something bigger in mind for each of us, and children would have gotten in the way. I cling to that promise, trusting, hoping, believing. But there are still dark days when I just don’t get it.

Why, God? Why?

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

Age and Attitudes

On a flight recently, I sat next to an elderly woman who was on her way to visit her granddaughter. Before long the conversation veered towards children and she asked me if I had any.

For a second, I got that sinking feeling. Here was a woman with children and grandchildren, who wasn’t going to understand why I didn’t. But I told her anyway, and even headed her off at the pass by explaining why before she asked.

But the thing is, she got it. She understood that the battle with infertility can be endless. She understood that sometimes you have to walk away. And she also understood that parenthood isn’t and shouldn’t be for everyone.

This is a trend I’ve been noticing lately. I’ve found that older people are often more likely than younger people to understand that motherhood isn’t a certainty for everyone.

Maybe it’s the wisdom that comes with experience, or maybe it’s that perspective older people sometimes get about what’s really important in life. Whatever it is, I’m always glad to find that safe haven when it comes along.

The Plan B Life

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what to do when your plans don’t work out. I’ve had some experience with this, having made a couple of major career changes (engineering to marketing to writing), made commitments to the wrong relationships, and more recently and more significantly, had my plans for motherhood thwarted.

Recently I’ve written some articles on the subject and now I’m very excited to present my new weekly blog on Psychology Today. It’s called The Plan B Life: Redesigning your world when “Plan A” fails.

Although these articles are aimed at a wider audience, moving on to Plan B when Plan A was motherhood is always at the forefront of my mind.

Last week I wrote about Letting Go of the Dream, and tapped into my personal experience when I talked about losing sight of why I wanted that dream (children) in the first place and realizing that other areas of my life were starting to suffer because of my determination to become a mother.

This week the topic was tapping into childhood memories to find your life’s passion again. I don’t know if you had this experience, but I know that I had planned my little world around someday becoming a mother, so when I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen, I saw that my life was full of holes and I had no idea what I was going to fill them with. As I wrote in the article, I did the childhood memory exercise ten years ago and recently revisited my journal to remember some of the things that had once given me joy. It’s a really great exercise (and I can recommend Barbara Sher’s book if you’re feeling lost) and I’ll be including a variation of it in the “Finding Your Identity” workshop I’ll be leading in November. More about that soon.

I’d be thrilled if you’d take a look at the Psychology Today blog, over the moon if you’d click a couple of the share buttons at the bottom, and beside myself with excitement if you decided to subscribe.

I don’t know where all of this is going yet, but I do feel as if I am stepping out into the start of my own Plan B life. And I can promise you I’ll be sending postcards from my travels.

Whiny Wednesday: Casey Anthony

It’s 5:30 a.m. and I am writing this posting while hurtling down the interstate to catch an early flight (it’s ok, I’m not driving.) I can count the hours of sleep I got last night on one hand, and I just had McDonald’s oatmeal for breakfast. You’d think that would be all I’d need for a good Whiny Wednesday, but no, I also have Casey Anthony on my mind.

If you’re tuning in from elsewhere in the world and haven’t been subjected to the media frenzy surrounding this case, you can catch up with the story here. Even though a jury found Ms. Anthony not guilty of the murder of her two-year old daughter Caylee, the court of public opinion decided long ago that Casey was responsible, somehow, for the little girl’s death.

Regardless of the trial’s outcome, no one can claim that Casey Anthony was a responsible mother. It saddens me to think of all the good and loving families Caylee could have been born into, and it makes me hopping mad to think that, at 25 years old, Casey Anthony will have ample opportunity for a second chance at motherhood and that, knowing how unfairly life works, she could be given another young life to care for.

It Got Me Thinking…About Lies

Guest post by Kathleen Guthrie

After years of living with cracked tiles, a door that popped open at awkward moments, faucets that never completely turned off, and circa-1970 nonslip floor stickers, we finally remodeled our decrepit shower. The gentleman who did the work did an excellent job. His sales rep, hmmm, not so much: “It will be easy! It will be clean! We can do it all in a day!” I’m still finding dust and debris in odd places, and “Joe” (I’m not using his real name, ’cuz that’s not cool) was here for an exhausting 10.5 hours the first day, then returned for another 2.5 hours the next morning.

About three hours into it, Joe said to me in exasperation, “I don’t know why they tell customers we can do it in a day. These things always take at least a day and a half or two.”

Wouldn’t it have been a lot easier if the sales rep has just been honest? We could have planned ahead for two days of showering at the gym. Instead of having to cancel at the last minute, I could have scheduled meetings on different days. It certainly would have been easier on Joe, who had to bump other service calls and muck up other people’s busy lives.

And that got me thinking about other big lies I’ve heard in my life. A whopper came when I was a teenager and was experiencing debilitating menstrual cramps. My doctor, a very sweet man, said to me, “This is good. It will prepare you for childbirth so that labor pains will be a breeze.” I held onto his promise for the next 30 years while waiting to have my baby and experience the miracle of pain-free birthing. It’s not his fault that I didn’t get to have children. But I look back and wish someone had been straight with me, saying something like: “Don’t plan your dreams around the possibility of being a mom, because it might not happen. And these agonizing cramps? Yeah, they suck and life isn’t fair. Fill this prescription for pain killers and get over yourself.”

I know many of you have heard “I can make you pregnant!” “This procedure will work!” “It’s the miracle cure that will give you the baby you want!” But I wonder this: Would it have been any easier if someone had told us the truth upfront? Would we have listened and really heard it?

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

Would you choose to be a single mother?

An article titled “Baby Without Marriage” caught my attention on BlogHer recently. [You can read it here, but be warned that it’s posted in the Pregnancy section of the site.] The author was asked by a friend, “If you don’t get married by a particular age, would you consider having children without a husband?”

The author had this to say:

“I have to admit, the thought has crossed my mind, but I’d never sat down and really thought about it. I’d never really imagined my life without kids. I guess I’d never really imagined it without a husband either, but I’d given children more of a consideration. But man, what would I do? Adoption, IVF, a good night with a good friend or ex, what? And at what age is my “out-of-wedlock” age? I’ll be 35 this year.”

She goes on to explain that she’s not ready for kids yet, but she’s aware that if she keeps putting it off, it’s eventually going to be too late.

I could really relate to her quandary, as I found myself in that same situation in my very early 30s. With no sign of a potential daddy in sight (Mr. Fab and I hadn’t figured out we were destined to be more than friends back then), I started to have the conversation with myself about whether I was prepared to be a single mom. As it turned out, Mr. Fab and I did find one another before I hit my “out-of-wedlock” age, only to discover, of course, that I was already past my expiration date. But I wonder; if things had been different, would I have made a go of it alone?

I’m older now, and supposedly wiser (or at least more tired), but trying to think as my younger self would have, I wonder if I would have had the courage to parent alone. I like to think that the sensible part of me would have realized that with no family within 6,000 miles, it would have been close to impossible, but as I watched my window of fertility close, I would have made the last-minute leap?

I know that some of you have weighed this decision and that some of you are still considering it. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Whiny Wednesday: I don’t want to talk about this anymore

Let me just say, right up front, that I love the community of women I’ve found through this blog. I’ve really been amazed at how people are willing to rally around and help others they’ve never even met. I attribute the speed of my healing progress to this community and to having somewhere to go to talk about infertility and childlessness.

But sometimes I feel as if I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.

For the past two weeks I’ve stood up in front of a theater full of strangers and told my story. It was a fantastic experience and everyone I met was wonderful and supportive. (More about this very soon.) I know that talking about this issue is bringing it to the forefront and building understanding. People have come up to me and told me as much.

But sometimes I just want to be little old me. I don’t want to keep talking about “it.”

Recently, this article reminded me of why I don’t want to talk about “it.” Here, this writer pours out her heart and her “regrets” at never having children.

“I know, for example, that not being a mother means there is a part of me which remains unused, a love that will be forever unexpressed. I know that what any mother describes as the most profound love she has ever known is, to me, a locked door — there is so much love I will never be able to give, wisdom and understanding I cannot share, shelter and solace I cannot provide.”

I admire for having the guts to say that, and I know she’s right, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise. There are a million ways to substitute for not having children, but none of them are really going to fill that gap. I know that; I feel that.

But, then she goes on to say:

“My regrets will always linger. My life is a poorer place for not having children, and I am less of a woman for not being a mother.”

And that’s when I want to yell, “No!! Pull yourself together, woman! You have a successful career, friends, a great life. How can you say your life is a poorer place and that you are less of a woman because you don’t have children?” Forgive me, friends, but it just comes across as feeling sorry for herself, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

And this is why I don’t want to talk about this sometimes. I don’t want to be defined by my childlessness; I don’t want to be a one-ring circus with the same act playing night after night; I don’t want to be “that poor pathetic childless woman, who never quite got over it.”

All that being said, I’m going to keep talking about it, because it’s an important topic to me, but I’m keeping an eye on myself to make sure it doesn’t become the only thing I can talk about, to make sure I don’t start feeling sorry for myself.

Whiny Wednesday: Media Exclusion

This post was originally published on September 29, 2010.

My TIME magazine just arrived. On the cover is the silhouette of a naked pregnant woman. I put the magazine face down on the table and I refuse to read it. The sight of a pregnant woman does not make me envious or pine for motherhood; I’m just tired of having motherhood pushed at me endlessly.

Last month’s Runner’s World met the same fate with its double features on pregnant runners and the best baby joggers on the market. My longtime subscription to this magazine is in jeopardy as they continue to aim more and more articles at parents, leaving non-parents flipping the pages looking for something to relate to.

There are magazines galore for parents and mothers-to-be. Is it too much to ask for my news and hobbies to be safe havens?

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s rubbing you the wrong way today?