Life Without Baby: Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn't Happen

By Lisa Manterfield

"What if I never get to be a mother?"

When this doubt first takes hold, it can knock you completely off your feet. You feel cheated, frustrated, and no longer sure of your place in society, your family, or your circle of friends. Now…imagine you could spend time with someone who really understands how you feel, who lets you express all the things that once seemed whiny, self-indulgent, or just plain crazy, and who confides that she once felt that way too.

Life Without Baby founder, Lisa Manterfield, once stood where you are and not only survived, but thrived. Now she shares what she learned from her own experiences and from the women of the community she created. She'll help you:

– Know when it's time to cut your losses and let go of your dream


– Give yourself permission to grieve the loss that few others can truly understand


– Learn some emotional aikido moves to handle social challenges, such as baby showers, Mother's Day, and the dreaded "Do you have kids?" question


– Rediscover your passion and find joy again, without enduring a complete life makeover


– Get pragmatic about aging without children and building a new kind of family

Based on her small-group workshops and popular ebook series, this book offers a combination of hard-won lessons, gentle queries, and real-world suggestions. Manterfield is a comforting and supportive companion who will guide you gently down your own path to making peace with being childfree-not-by-choice and thriving in a new happily ever after.

Praise for Life Without Baby

"Page by page, Lisa holds your hand with gentle, unflinching support, openly sharing her story with you, and giving you permission, guidance, and gentle queries that help in your journey of healing." 
~ Tracey Cleantis, author of The Next Happy: Let Go of the Life You Planned and Find a New Way Forward

"I wish Manterfield's book had been available a decade ago.  It would have been a valuable lifeline, a tremendous support at a time there was nothing available for women lost in a maze of fertility treatment promises and murky what ifs." 
~ Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos, author of Silent Sorority

"A comforting book, full of practical help for women who wanted to have children and are trying to move past the overwhelming panic and grief that comes with realizing it's not going to happen. I wish I'd had a book like this when I was 40." 
~ Sue Fagalde Lick, author of Childless by Marriage

"If you're newly coming to terms with this, or if you've been living this life for a decade or more, or if you have a friend or family member you want to help, you will find belonging, food for thought, and further hope for a future, wonderful life without baby." 
~ Linda Rooney, Founder of No Kidding in NZ

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Manterfield
• Release date: Mar 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9780983012597

Book preview

Introduction

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I first acknowledged that motherhood would not be part of my future. The idea started as a knot in the pit of my stomach, a fleeting thought of What if this doesn’t happen for me? It put out little tendrils of doubt that manifested in sadness and frustration that I couldn’t get this thing I wanted so much. But even as doctors shook their heads and test results showed over and over again that I could not conceive, the idea that I would never be a mother was unimaginable, and the possibility that it might not happen was drowned out by hope and my blind determination that, if I just kept trying, it would all work out in the end.

But it wasn’t naïve denial that kept me pursuing my dream of motherhood. It was the completely blank canvas of the unknown that lay beyond if I made the decision to give up. I had no idea what the future would hold for me, and it was easier to stay in that awful place of painful possibility than to cut my losses and step into an uncertain future. Despite being surrounded by loving friends and family, I felt completely lost and alone, carrying around with me a deep grief that had no outlet. I’d never met anyone like me before, and I didn’t know where to turn for help or even what kind of help I might need. I didn’t even realize I needed help. I just pushed along on my own, taking it one day at a time, and trying to figure out how I was ever going to make peace with the enormous loss I felt. I honestly wasn’t sure I ever would.

It was a long process that didn’t come with a roadmap. There were no books to guide me through the process and no one to help me understand the sadness and confusion of losing something that I’d never had in the first place. I wrote about what I was going through, first in a journal, then as exercises in a writer’s workshop, which became chapters of a memoir. When I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood was published in 2010, I felt as if I was laying out all my shortcomings for the world to see—assuming anyone would actually read it. But a funny thing happened: As I began to write publicly, in the book and on my blog, I found a community of women—each with her own unique story—all struggling with the same issues and trying to find acceptance in the life they’d been dealt. For the first time, I felt as if I wasn’t stumbling through this alone.

Some of the women were like me and had dealt with infertility and never been pregnant, while others had suffered miscarriages or delivered stillborn babies. Some had dealt with other health issues that forced them into a decision not to pursue motherhood, and others were dusting themselves off after the blow of a failed adoption. Some watched their dreams of motherhood dashed as the search for the right mate kept turning up the wrong man. Others found themselves facing divorce or the death of a spouse, or a partner who had a change of heart about parenthood. Each of us had our own story about how we came to find ourselves watching the window of opportunity for motherhood slowly close—and yet we shared so many common issues. What I discovered through the blog was that, when I wrote openly about the tangled emotions and crazy thoughts I was having, others kept whispering Me too.

I realized how important it is to walk this path with others who’ve been there and how sharing my story helped me to feel normal again. I learned a lot from my own experience and from the comments of other readers on the blog. I came to understand the importance of grieving something that never existed, even if my immediate family and closest friends couldn’t fully understand my loss. I learned the value of a compassionate community and the power of knowing I was not alone. I also learned to look forward toward a future I hadn’t planned and find joy and passion in my life again. I learned not just how to survive, but how to thrive in a life without children.

Over the past several years, I’ve written thousands of posts on this topic and put together a program of workshops to help other women. This book is the culmination of my journey and everything I’ve learned. My hope is to share with you my experience and what I’ve discovered from others, to offer a roadmap to guide you through that unknown territory of the uncertain future, and to make sure you don’t have to go through your experience alone.

Getting the Most From This Book

This book is divided into four parts. While I’ve attempted to present the information in a logical sequence, the reality is that this is a messy process, and you’ll probably find yourself jumping around from one section to another and back again.

Part I of the book deals with letting go of the dream of motherhood, and it’s where this whole journey begins. I’ll help you to determine when it’s time to call it quits and point you toward the first steps in coming to terms with that decision.

Part II will guide you through dealing with grief, especially when those around you might not always be understanding. As with any kind of loss, the grieving process can be long and unpredictable, so you may find yourself coming back to this section again and again. You might also be tempted to skip this section entirely, but I encourage you to at least read through it, even if you’re not yet ready to dive into some of the more difficult exercises.

In Part III, I’ll guide you through the many challenging social situations you’re undoubtedly facing. When you need to know how to deal with a baby shower invitation or a prying question about why you don’t have children, you’ll find real-world advice and tips in this section. You’ll probably need to refer to this section right away to get some ideas for situations you’re already experiencing, but you’ll also find these events easier to handle as you work your way through the book.

Finally, in Part IV, you’ll be ready to stretch your wings and start building your future. For you, that could mean a major life overhaul or simply a slight adjustment in your outlook. We’ll figure out what you need and how to get it in this section. Even as you move into this next chapter of your life, you’ll have moments when you falter. It’s perfectly normal. Take a breath and revisit the earlier sections to refresh your resolve and to remind yourself of how far you’ve already come.

Despite this complex path, my suggestion is to start by working through the book in order, do the exercises that speak to you at that time, and then flip back to the different sections as you need them.

Throughout the book, I’ll share my own experiences of coming to terms with my decision that it was time to stop pursuing my dream of motherhood. As I’ve already written extensively about my journey in I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood and on LifeWithoutBaby.com, I’ll give you condensed versions of my story as they relate to each chapter. In many cases, you’ll see that my story relays what I didn’t do, because I didn’t know any better. Most of the advice I share in this book was learned in hindsight.

The exercises in the book are designed to help you hash through the swirl of emotions, conflicting thoughts, and general craziness that is probably going on in your head right now. I call them Dear Diary exercises, as I’m going to encourage you to put some very honest and personal thoughts down on paper, things that you might not want to say out loud, even to your most trusted confidant. Expressing feelings of hurt, shame, grief—and craziness—is an important part of the healing process, and a journal is a safe place to release all that. As you progress, you may also want to refer back to some of the things you’ve written, especially when you hit a rough spot, which I’m sorry to say, is probably going to happen.

Odds are you haven’t done much nice for yourself lately, so let’s start taking care of you now. Treat yourself to a brand-new journal and a special pen (I have one with purple lavender-scented ink) and make a space that will be yours for a while. This isn’t going to be a smooth ride, so I encourage you to find a quiet place and some time alone, which will allow you to really tap into your thoughts and work through the exercises fully. Some of the prompts may bring up powerful emotions, so your morning commute is probably not the ideal place to work through this book. Make a place for yourself where you can feel safe, even if that just means adding a blanket and a favorite candle to a spot in the corner of a room.

Most important, be flexible with yourself. There’s no prescribed timeline for getting over it and no linear path to follow. I’ve tried to present what I’ve learned in some sort of logical order, but this is not a step-by-step plan, and your process will most likely differ. You may feel like diving in and working through the book in order, or you may prefer to read through the whole book and do only the exercises that resonate most. You may also find you hit sticking points and come across exercises that feel too hard at the moment. You might flit around and circle back to some parts several times before taking the next step forward. All of that is fine. There are no rules and no timeline. It takes as long as it takes.

So, if you’re ready, come with me and let’s take the first small step together.

Part I: Letting Go of the Dream of Motherhood

You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.

Jan Glidewell

Deciding to get off the Crazy Train or let go of your plans for motherhood may be one of the most difficult things you ever do. This decision has the potential to change everything you believed about your life, your identity, and your plans for the future. It’s not a decision that comes easily, and the only person who can make it is you.

Sometimes we’re prodded toward the decision because we have no other viable options, but in many cases we’re faced with choosing between a dream and our sanity. We know we need to move on, but we’re just not ready to call it quits. The trouble is, an absolute ending may never come, so we’re left in limbo, struggling with this constant question of What if?

In this part we’ll take a look at all sides of the decision, including the implications of letting go of the dream and the pros and cons of staying the course. We’ll look at how to know when it’s time to let go and how to create an ending for a journey that could potentially go on indefinitely.

If you’re thinking about putting this book down and doing something less intimidating, such as walking across hot coals or wrestling an alligator, know that it’s okay to feel apprehensive. If I could hold your hand, I would. Instead, I encourage you to take a deep breath and turn the page. You’re about to take the first brave steps toward making peace with a life without children, and you won’t be taking them alone.

Chapter 1

The Desire for Motherhood

We live in a goal-driven culture, where Be all that you can be and Winners never quit are mantras that drive us to achieve. We’re taught to dream big, set goals, and never, never give up hope. So we plan and strive, but sometimes our dreams remain elusive. The business venture that everyone thought was a great idea won’t draw customers; our creative talents are admired, but we can’t get a break; the perfect relationship is fraying at the edges, yet we still try to patch the holes.

When it comes to dreams of a family, though, the path to success is far more complex. Wanting a baby goes way beyond setting a goal and striving to reach it, and the factors that push us toward that goal are numerous and complicated. We are biologically wired to reproduce, many of us have had expectations of motherhood our whole lives, and society, our families, and friends have engrained that expectation in us.

One of the most difficult decisions you will ever have to make is letting go of the dream of motherhood and moving toward accepting a life without children. If you’re reading this, you’ve already acknowledged the possibility of letting go, but now you’re here, you may be wondering how to make that decision and if it’s even what you really want. Only you can know, so in this section we’ll work through some exercises to help give you clarity.

What’s So Special About Motherhood Anyway?

I always wanted children. In fact, I expected to have children, and people close to me expected it too. Even though my focus in my 20s was on education, career, and travel, some part of me assumed I’d eventually walk a traditional path of getting married, having children, and living happily ever after. I suspect that most people don’t stop to think about why they want children; they just go through the prescribed milestones and do it.

When I pictured myself as a mother, I had a very clear vision about how it would be. There’d be anywhere from two to four children, all bright, intelligent, and curious. There’d be adventures outdoors, family bike rides, and visits to the museum. There’d be healthy food on the table every night and shelves of books for us to read together. I’d get to teach and nurture my set of little humans and form them into good citizens of the world. My house would be full of love and laughter.

In other words, my life would be a TV commercial.

Every day the media bombards us with images of motherhood in all its perfection, from the line-up of stunning celebrities and their designer baby bumps to the cool, collected stars toting toddlers to the market like ordinary mothers. We see movies depicting tender mother-child moments and touting the power of family. We hear phrases like I never knew love until I had children and words of unerring wisdom that begin with As a mother…. Even when the struggle for motherhood becomes a public story, it doesn’t become newsworthy until there’s a happy ending to report.

In the workplace and within our families and circles of friends, new mothers are showered with gifts and adoration. It seems everyone around us wants to know when we’re going get our memberships to the mommy club, as if all we have to do is fill in a form and wait for approval. It leaves us feeling as if we don’t truly belong until we join the ranks of mothers, and that we are incomplete without children. And even though we know that parenting is not how it’s depicted in the movies, we believe it will be worth it. So, when it doesn’t work out as planned, that need to belong can kick into overdrive until expectation becomes desire becomes drive becomes obsession.

Your Desire for Motherhood

Have you ever considered why you wanted children? Or did you simply expect that you would? Let’s go back to the start of your story, to a time when you first thought that you’d like to have children someday. Maybe you knew as a child you wanted to be a parent, or maybe the urge didn’t come over you until adulthood. Perhaps you didn’t realize how much you wanted a family until you met the person you wanted to have children with, or until a medical professional said you couldn’t—or shouldn’t. Whenever it was, think back now to some of the reasons you wanted children. Maybe your reasons include:

I love children and always looked forward to being a mother to my own.

I’m in love and the greatest symbol of that love would be a baby.

I wanted to see my/my spouse’s/my father’s/my grandmother’s eyes looking back at me.

I wanted to leave a legacy to carry on my genes after I’m gone.

I don’t want to die alone.

I wanted the experience of creating and shaping another human being.

I had an idyllic childhood/family and always dreamed of creating my own.

I had a terrible childhood and I wanted to right those wrongs.

My biological clock is ticking like a time bomb!

I never thought about why I wanted them, I just assumed I would.

Dear Diary: What were your reasons for wanting children?

Take out your journal. Using the list above as a starting point, think back to your reasons for wanting children. These reasons may have changed at different stages of your life, so list as many as you can.

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Now look a little deeper beyond your list of reasons to the underlying feelings and emotions. Were you looking for unconditional love? Did you want to belong? Did you want the acceptance and admiration of your family? Did you want to feel as if you’d made a difference in someone else’s life? Remember, no one ever wanted children for purely selfless reasons, so try to be honest about your own motivations.

When Desire Becomes Obsession

If you’ve been longing for a child for some time, especially if you’ve been through fertility treatments or been searching for the right relationship or situation to start a family, your motivations may have changed. In fact, in the pursuit of motherhood, it’s easy to lose sight of the initial