Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Friends

Yesterday I had lunch with two friends, Kathleen and Pamela.

Kathleen writes the fabulous “It Got Me Thinking…” column here on LWB. We first met five or six years ago in a writing class. Back then, both of us planned to become mothers someday, although looking back, it’s now apparent that we were both on the path to being permanently childfree, even then. We connected because we appreciated one another’s writing, and over the years, we found other things in common and became better friends. It just so happens that neither of us got our dream of motherhood, and our childlessness has become another bond that ties us to one another.

My friendship with Pamela, on the other hand, developed on a completely different trajectory. Our paths might never have crossed had I not found myself childless-not-by-choice. Although we live in the same state, we lived 400 miles apart with little in our lives to ever bring us together. But Pamela is the author of Silent Sorority, and I got to know her through her blog. Eventually, we met in person last year, and we soon discovered that our childlessness was only one of many things we have in common, and in fact, one of the least interesting. Our childlessness brought us together, but it won’t be what sustains our friendship. More likely, it will be wine, food, and travel.

It’s funny how life twists and turns, how connections are made and paths laid out. We meet people and we lose people. Some friends stick, some fall to the wayside. Friends change and move in different directions, and new friends come along and fill the void. Our plans change and our lives spin in directions we could never have foreseen. And yet, when the dust settles and we regain our balance, we often see that we are walking the path we were always meant to be on after all. And it’s encouraging to look around and discover that we have friends walking beside us.

In two weeks time, I’ll get the chance to meet some more wonderful women, when the San Francisco Group does lunch. I’m looking forward to finding things in common, and maybe making new friends.

Creative Therapy

Today I finished making the final edits to the book I’ve been working on for the past six years. (Hard to believe it’s been that long!) When I started writing, my story was about all the ups and downs of trying to get pregnant, and although I say it myself, it was pretty funny. Of course, as my personal story kept growing, the book kept growing and growing, and getting less and less funny, until finally I couldn’t bear to write any more. I put the whole thing down for more than two years.

Eventually, I got to the place in my head where I was ready to tackle it again. I tossed out the entire original manuscript and started over from page one. Talk about a therapeutic cleansing. Now it’s done and I’m really pleased with the story I’ve been able to tell. But here’s something interesting: writing the story was a form of therapy for me. I relived every moment and sometimes it was painful. OK, a lot of times it was painful. But when I started editing, that changed. With every edit, I became less and less attached to the story. As I moved from the creative process of writing to the more analytical process of editing I gained distance from the story, until I was finally able to read the entire thing with almost no emotional connection.

I believe that writing the book has really helped accelerate my healing process. I can now look at my experience objectively and understand it, even see what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown from it. Suddenly that experience is not just something terrible that happened; it’s not something valuable. That’s something I never expected to happen.

Have you experienced the therapeutic benefits of writing or some other creative outlet? What worked for you and how has it helped? I’m a believer in creative therapy now. Are you?