I know I’m probably going to have to duck for cover with this week’s topic. We’ve all heard it and the sting never seems to diminish. So here we go:
“You wouldn’t understand; you don’t have kids.”
I’ll be behind the couch if you need me.
Whiny Wednesday: The Baby Shower
This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is that old chestnut:
The baby shower!
A reader wrote:
I would like to know how others handle baby showers. I have vowed to not go to any more baby showers after leaving the last one in tears and disappointed in myself because I felt so strong before I went. Do others have emotional issues about other people’s baby showers or am I alone?
After assuring her that she definitely was not alone in feeling this way, I thought I’d turn the topic over to you.
Please whine, rant, empathize, and even advise on this most delicate of topics.
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.
It Got Me Thinking…About Making the “Choice” to Be Childless
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
A while back, I received an e-mail from an LWBer I’ll call “Kim” who was struggling to find her place in our community. She hadn’t been through infertility, nor had she made a conscious choice to not be a parent. Instead, she’d held out for Mr. Right and married a man she loved—who didn’t want children. It wasn’t exactly my story, but I could relate to much of it. I shared my response with Lisa, and she asked me to consider sharing it with other LWB readers.
If you see yourself in here, I hope you’ll find some encouragement, some support. I hope you’ll feel—maybe for the first time—that you are not alone.
Dear Kim,
I am so sorry to hear of your losses and sorrows. I get it! Our paths are similar.
First, congratulations on your recent marriage! I, too, held out for love, which meant I got married in my 40s. My husband was worth the wait.
Second, a bit of my own story: I went through a long process (mid-30s to early 40s) of exploring whether or not I could/wanted to have a child on my own, and ultimately decided it wasn’t something I could do. It still irks me when people accuse me of making the “choice” to be childfree, when I feel in my heart that this destiny was forced on me in so many ways. Like you, I wanted to be a mom and I would have been a great mom. So not fair!
By the time I met my husband-to-be, I was starting to come to terms with the facts that my age and health were not in my favor for bearing and raising children. Sure, I could have tried every medical miracle, but with what results? I couldn’t do it. When I knew we were at a defining point in our relationship, I sat my then-boyfriend down, ready to set him free if he wanted children, because I knew I couldn’t offer him any guarantees. It came as somewhat of a relief, then, when he told me he never wanted kids.
However…that doesn’t mean we don’t have moments of “What if…?”
You asked how other women in your—in our—shoes are “living with it.” I’m sitting here at my desk trying to think of the best answers to give you, the real answers. It’s not easy, Kim. There are days when I love my life just as it is, when I celebrate that one of the reasons my husband and I have such an amazing relationship is because we are not having to divide our energies and attentions to take care of children. We spend our weekends together, even if it’s just running errands or watching Law and Order reruns on TV. We aren’t driving in different directions to attend soccer and Little League games. We are the last couple on the dance floor at wedding receptions because our friends who are parents have gone home to relieve babysitters or because they’re exhausted from all their obligations. These are blessed days indeed.
And then…and then…Halloween comes around and I want to stay in bed and cry about all the joyful events I’ve missed and will miss. I have to talk myself into decorating for the Christmas holidays because there are no little ones to revel in the magic, no one with whom I can share precious traditions. I lied to a friend a few weeks ago, a friend I love, because I couldn’t bear to go to her baby shower. I will love her child, we will be part of her child’s life, but I just couldn’t sit in a room full of women who got what I so desperately wanted.
In between, I lean heavily upon the wisdom and experience of our sisters on LWB. Sometimes I can offer the words of encouragement and support; other times it’s me who needs to be picked up off the floor. I encourage you to spend some time familiarizing yourself with the resources on the site. Yes, many of the women are here because of infertility, but we can still learn from each other how to move through this and forward into new life paths.
Melanie Notkin of Savvy Auntie has coined the phrase “circumstantially infertile.” I personally hate the term, but it makes sense to me. She is childfree for the same reasons we are (and I believe she’s still single) and has turned her experience into being an auntie advocate. I encourage you to check out her site. From my own experience, I will add that being “the fun aunt” has its advantages.
I also have learned a lot from Jody Day’s book, Living the Life Unexpected (also available on Amazon). She has a site called Gateway Women. I know Jody (also circumstantially infertile) has groups around the world, so you might check if there’s one near you. If not, maybe you’re the woman to start one? There are also several forums online on the LWB site. Find a topic that speaks to you and jump in.
Finally, I want to remind you that healing takes time. Please be gentle with yourself, Kim.
With my best wishes,
Kathleen
Kathleen would love to hear and possibly share your story. You can reach her at [email protected], or visit the Our Stories page to download the questionnaire for the Our Stories column.
Whiny Wednesday: Unworthy of Motherhood
Thanks to those of you who suggested Whiny Wednesday topics. If there’s something we haven’t covered yet, feel free to drop me a line.
This week’s whiny topic is:
“This happened because I am not worthy of being a mother .”
I think this falls into the same category as “I must have done something to deserve this” and “God/the Universe/fate must have other plans for me.”
Have you had these thoughts? Did you believe them?
As always, other whines are welcome. It is Whiny Wednesday after all.
Our Stories: Zoe
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Zoe’s turning point came during “an excessive attack of the googles,” when she came across a woman on a fertility board with the same stats. Upon closer inspection, Zoe realized the woman had posted seven years earlier, and had endured nine IVF failures since. “I did not want to be that woman,” she decided then and there.
But deciding to stop unsuccessful treatments and making peace with a life without babies are different things. Zoe quotes John Cleese: “I can take the despair. It’s the hope I can’t stand.” In her own words, Zoe says, “Clinging onto hope was not something I was prepared to do indefinitely. I wanted to walk away with my sanity intact.”
Here’s her story.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Zoe: I always said I’d have a toddler by the time I was 30. My dad used to joke that would mean I’d have to give birth at 28, so get pregnant at 27, be in a relationship by 26, and that I was saying this whilst aged 26, and it “obviously isn’t going to be that moron in the baseball cap you brought round last week, so you better start looking”.
I dreamt of filling a child’s life with music (both myself and my partner are musicians), books, wellies, dogs, silly humour, and doodles. I’d also always been positive about adopting. My parents fostered many kids before we came along, so that was part of my dream too.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
Zoe: Circumstance. I always went out with guys who weren’t ready, and I respected them. I was in a long-term relationship from 26, stopped taking the pill at 30. He responded by forcing me to take the morning-after pill when he forgot to use a condom. That devastated me. Then two weeks shy of my 33rd birthday, he just left, saying he didn’t love me, wasn’t ready for kids and wanted to “free me up”. He is now a father of one with the girl he got with three weeks after leaving me.
I got with my future husband pretty quickly after that—we’d been friends for years. He’d had an undescended testicle till aged 12, and two years in, we confirmed he had very low sperm count and IVF ICSI was our only option. Six months later, when I was just 36, we found out I had Diminished Ovarian Reserve (the ovaries of a 45 year old) and wouldn’t respond to IVF. Double whammy. He can’t have kids without IVF, I can’t get pregnant with it. We did it anyway. It failed drastically.
We don’t want double donor. I have my own very clear feelings about that, and it feels good to actively make a decision together against it. I would adopt, but my partner won’t, and I have chosen a life with him.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now? (for example: still in denial, angry, hoping for a miracle, depressed, crawling toward acceptance, embracing Plan B)
Zoe: Never in denial, as I always thought we’d have a problem and have been pretty realistic the whole way through. I moved from anger (at my ex-partner, who I now realize took the only fertile years of my life) into depression. Currently trying to convince myself of Plan B. Every day I take a huge amount of physical and emotional effort, convincing myself that this is okay, I am okay, a life without children will be okay. Every morning all the hard work I did the day before, getting to a place of acceptance, has vanished, and I have to start convincing myself all over again.
LWB: What’s the hardest part about not having children?
Zoe: The constant exclusion from life’s milestones. I never wanted to live like a 20-something forever. I wanted a family life and all that entailed.
Also I’m particularly upset about the fact there will be no one there to bother about what I leave behind. My legacy, I suppose. I have hundreds of recordings of me singing and playing songs, scrapbooks of band tours I’ve been on, photos of achievements I’ve made, venues I’ve played, and no one to listen to them or read them or look at them when I’m gone. I was looking forward to the exciting “this is what mummy used to do before she had you” conversations.
LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?
Zoe: That it wasn’t planned. That it wasn’t my fault. That it’s not a normal thing to go through at 36, and that I am broken with grief and would be grateful for their understanding on that.
Rather than what I want other women to know though, I want to speak to men in their 30s. I want them to know that their decisions to love their girlfriends/wives, but yet dismiss their requests to start a family because they are not ready, until they are 40 in some cases, is not something women should have to bear. We are not being mental or unnecessarily naggy. We are legitimately worried that it will be too late. Men should bear some of this responsibility, they should meet us half way.
LWB: What’s your Plan B?
Zoe: Being an aunt to my one and only niece/nephew, who was conceived at the point I found out I couldn’t have children naturally and was born a few weeks after I found out I can never have children at all.
Getting married, with the knowledge I have already been through one of the hardest things you can go through with a partner, and starting off with the understanding that it will be a marriage without kids. But I am so glad I know this from the outset and am still choosing to do it. That feels empowering to me.
What is your Plan B? Or are your wounds so raw that you can’t even imagine a happy future? 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.
Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.
Our Stories: Lynn
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“I am on the swim up, but I haven’t broken the surface yet,” Lynn* says, in answer to where she is on her journey. “At the same time, I feel scared to break free of it, to let it go. I feel stuck; I’m scared to turn the corner.”
Now 41, she’s been on the infertility/ran out of time rollercoaster for several years. Although she’s starting to make peace with her path, she continues to wrestle with the heartbreaking losses of the dream of holding her newborn and looking into familiar eyes in a new face, the memories that will never be made, and “all of the love that I have to give to that child that will never be given.”
Yet she continues to look for hope. “Some people come out the other end of this situation and say that they now know how strong they are, and that they can get through anything,” she says. “What I am learning is that I can survive, and that it’s okay to feel all of it. It’s even okay to be weak sometimes.”
After reading her story, I hope you’ll reach out to her in the comments. Perhaps you can share with her your own answer to the last question.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Lynn: I can’t honestly say that I spent my younger years yearning to be a mom like so many women do. I did want children, but it always seemed like a goal for the next phase of my life: when I was a little older, when I had a better job, when I had a husband, etc. I had a long-term boyfriend in my early 20s, and I wanted to get married and start a family, but he was not interested. I did finally leave him and spent the next 10 years being very single. By the time I was in my mid-30s, I was overwhelmed by the desire to be a mom. I had spent so many years concentrating on my job and dating, but I felt no purpose in my life. Most of the men I dated were a mess, and I started to doubt that I would ever find something real. I met my husband when I was 38, and he was definitely worth the wait. We started trying to get pregnant even before we got married, then quickly learned it was not going to be an easy road for us. We did all of the drugs, intrauterine insemination (IUI), and then in vitro fertilization (IVF).
LWB: Where are you on your journey now? (for example: still in denial, angry, hoping for a miracle, depressed, crawling toward acceptance, embracing Plan B)
Lynn: Can I be all of these things at once? (LOL) I guess I am crawling toward acceptance, but still struggling with a little bit of depression. And I would be lying if I said that I didn’t harbor a secret hope for a miracle way down deep inside of me.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Lynn: Not sure I have totally hit that yet, but we did a round of IVF a little over a year ago. They were only able to harvest one egg, and although it looked good at first, it didn’t end up taking. We have thought about using an egg donor, but my husband is not willing to put us in $25,000 worth of debt to do it. At our age, we wouldn’t have that paid off until retirement (if we were lucky enough to pay it off at all).
I had an early miscarriage a few months ago. It was the first time in my entire life I had ever been pregnant. It came and went quickly, and it has been awful. I had just started down the road to acceptance, and then it happened. After fighting the anger, depression, and heartache of not being able to have a child, there is a part of me that wants to come up out of the depths of all of this and see what the next part of my life is going to look like.
LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?
Lynn: My husband and I are seeing a counselor, and she told me that I am grieving and that it’s so important to try to channel the emotions I have into something healthy and constructive. I have been journaling a lot, and it seems to be helping.
LWB: What advice would you like to give to your younger self?
Lynn: Be aware of your fertility and be proactive about it at an earlier age. Don’t just assume that you have forever to make it happen or that because celebrities have children in their 50s or your aunt’s cousin’s mother got pregnant when she was 47 that you can too. It’s harder than you think, and much harder than we are led to believe by our culture and media.
LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?
Lynn: The honesty and empathy shown here is everything. When I read women’s stories and read your posts, I don’t feel alone. Thank you for that.
LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?
Lynn: That I could reach past the survival phase and reach a place where I can thrive. I want to find myself again. I feel like my personality, my “mojo,” has been lost through all of this. I hope my husband and I can start to embrace our lives and celebrate that we found each other. I want us to fully enjoy the rest of our lives together.
LWB: What’s your Plan B?
Lynn: I don’t have one. However, I am in the market for one if you know where I can find one. 🙂
*We allow each contributor to choose another name, if she wishes, to protect her privacy.
What is your Plan B? Or are your wounds so raw that you can’t even imagine a happy future? 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.
Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.
It Got Me Thinking…About Our Cheroes
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
A while back we did a series on women who inspire us, women who are our heroes, who happen to be childfree: cheroes.
Recently I came across this interview with Ina Garten, the wonderful “Barefoot Contessa,” in which she addresses why she and her husband, Jeffrey, never had children. “I really felt, I feel, that I would have never been able to have the life I’ve had,” she said. A life that has included an incredibly successful shop, a line of cookbooks, TV shows, and an international fan base. “So it’s a choice,” she said, “and that was the choice I made.”
She goes on to say that she never felt judged by other people for her choice, which I find amazing…and encouraging.
I wish I could be as content with my “choices” as she is. Maybe someday I will be. Meanwhile, what helps me is hearing that other people are being less judgmental of childfree women, cheroes such as Ina Garten are speaking up with positive messages, and women who happen to be childfree are continuing to rock our world.
Who are your cheroes? If you can’t think of one, check out the series we did on LWB and visit Jody Day’s fabulous Gallery of Women: Childless & Childfree Women Role Models on Pinterest.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Our Stories: Melek
As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“It’s really hard to admit that one is suffering from not having children,” Melek* writes. “It’s like admitting being lonely. There is an amount of shame in this.” She further ponders how things might have been easier in ancient Greece, when you could blame the gods when things didn’t go your way. But in today’s world, “we are supposed to be in charge of our own happiness and fate,” despite limitations, flaws, circumstances beyond our control, and realities defined by our biology.
When she was 40, Melek confronted some of those realities and explored options for becoming a single parent, but the discouragement she encountered sent her into a downward spiral. Now, at 50 and single, she’s wrestling with facing what appears to be a lonely future—although I will say I’m encouraged by her fun answer to “What are you looking forward to now?”
Can you relate to her story? If so, I hope you’ll reach out to her in the Comments.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Melek: My dream of motherhood is very much inspired by my own childhood from age 12 years and on, with me, my brother, and our mother living on our own, a small group of survivors in a new country. The strong bond to my mother and the feeling of belonging and being safe is something I would have liked to pass on, and relive, with my own daughter. This is something you can’t share with friends or a partner, or compensate for with activities, however meaningful they may be. I know, because I have been a creative person, expressing myself through both art and writing, my whole life.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
Melek: Between the ages 20 to 30, I was struggling with eating disorders and had no energy and motivation for relationships. After 30, I started to desperately look for a partner, but ended up with men who neither wanted children nor loved me enough. I tried to imagine being a single parent, but I didn’t have the courage or the determination. In the end, I didn’t meet a good enough partner and waited too long to make the decision to become a single parent.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
Melek: I’m at the point when you really realize what it means, and what it will mean, to not have any children; a stage filled with fear, sadness, and overwhelming regrets.
The older we get, it also gets harder to find friends. There is only one possible “fan club” for older, non-celebrity women, and that is her own family of children and grandchildren. Most of us living in the modern world await loneliness and isolation.
LWB: What was the turning point for you?
Melek: I was 40 and I held a newborn baby for the first time in my life, my niece. I was alone with her in my arms for some minutes, the small body feeling surprisingly heavy, walking back and forth with her in a small room, and suddenly finding myself singing something with no words. I felt a calmness I never had experienced before. Everything disappeared, nothing mattered, it was just us, as if we were one. I left the flat, the baby, and the happy parents, and went straight home, in shock, with only one thing in my head: that I must have a baby of my own. I googled fertility clinics and found one. This was actually my second turning point, when I read the statistics. The success rates for women over 40 becoming pregnant was 1% to 2 %. I went into a depression, turned my back on my family, and spent four years in isolation by my own choice. The next time I saw that baby, she was almost five years old and I was a stranger to her. She never warmed to me and I never warmed to her. Every time I see her I’m reminded of my pain and loss. I’m the stiff aunt that no child would love, instead of the warm woman that I know lives inside me, waiting for something that will bring her to life.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Melek: Oh, there is so much that is hard. The feelings mostly, feelings that are buried deep down, but that I know are there. And the realization of the inevitable fate of the lonely woman with no children: dying alone, missed and loved by no one.
LWB: What’s the best advice you’d offer to someone like you?
Melek: I would say have your baby in your twenties. Don’t be afraid of losing your freedom or your identity and all the exciting opportunities you think await you.
And don’t worry that you are not ”ready” for motherhood. Most children survive their childhoods, even if it wasn’t perfect. The image of motherhood as something sacred, demanding total extinction of the female self, is a patriarchal construction. You don’t have to give up yourself or your other dreams. And you can do everything you want in your forties, except (mostly) have a child. This is the one thing, together with certain illnesses, that unfortunately is biologically determined. Be the mother you like to be, but take the step in your twenties.
LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?
Melek: Through giving me the opportunity to express myself and put in words things that I normally keep deep inside.
LWB: What do you look forward to now?
Melek: To the tent I’ve just ordered. It’s my first tent and it feels very exciting. I had no idea tents were a whole science. I’m not a gear person, but I could easily become one if I could afford it.
*We allow each contributor to choose another name, if she wishes, to protect her privacy.
Won’t you share your story with us? The act of answering the questions itself can be very healing, plus we’d like to support you by telling you “You are not alone.” Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.
Did you know Kathleen Guthrie Woods is getting ready to tell her own story? The Mother of All Dilemmas follows her journey of pursuing being a single mother then embracing a life without children, and explores the reasons our society still presumes to calculate a woman’s worth based on whether or not she’s a mother. Keep an eye on LifeWithoutBaby.com for announcements about the book’s release.
It Got Me Thinking…About Social Media Holidays
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
I should know better. After all these years of seeking advice and giving advice, I should be better able to maneuver through triggering holidays with some grace.
I started Easter Sunday out strong. Instead of subjecting myself to a family-focused church service, I observed the holy day by talking a long walk in a glorious park, what my grandmother called “God’s church.” I avoided brunches in places where I was likely to be surrounded by more happy family gatherings. My husband, dog, and I enjoyed a quiet and reflective day.
Until I turned on Facebook. Egg hunts, colorful baskets overflowing with sweet treats, the Easter Bunny at the mall, proud grandparents, church pews filled with generations of family members, little darlings all dressed up in spring finery. I was crushed as I scrolled through the images of things I’ll never enjoy.
The mother of all holidays is upon us in the United States this week. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to take a break from social media in the days leading up to it and the days following. Please, don’t test yourself, don’t torture yourself.
If it’s an especially tough day for you this year, check in here at LWB and reach out to others on one of the Forums under Community (you’ll need to sign in). Read older blog posts for inspiration and encouragement. Most of all, be gentle with yourself.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
