It’s Whiny Wednesday, your opportunity to rant on a theme.
This week’s topic is:
Caring for elders and wondering, “Who’s going to do this for me?”
Feel free to add your own whines, too.
Whiny Wednesday
Last week I asked you to share topic ideas for Whiny Wednesday. Quite a few of you were glad to oblige. Thanks for the great ideas.
So, this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is:
Other People’s Pity
As always, you’re free to vent on your own topic, too.
If you have Whiny Wednesday topics you’d like to see voiced, please drop me a line.
Ms. Cellophane
By Lisa Manterfield
Have you ever been around people who behave as if you can’t possibly know anything about life because you don’t have children?
I’m sure that all of us have heard the old chestnuts, “You wouldn’t understand; you don’t have kids” or “I didn’t understand until I became a mother” (which implies the same thing) or even “Only a parent could know how this feels,” as if being childless strips away all capability of empathy.
And then there are those situations where you just feel invisible, when the conversation about children and parenting is swirling around you and no one even bothers to make eye contact with you because what could you possibly contribute?
These instances make me think of the wonderful “Mr. Cellophane” number from the musical “Chicago.”
And even without clucking like a hen,
Everyone gets noticed now and then,
Unless, of course, that person it should be,
Invisible, inconsequential me.
Personally, I’m done with feeling insignificant because I don’t have kids. It took me a long time to get to this point, but now I hold my ground in conversation. I contribute when I can and simply listen and nod when I can’t, just as I would if I found myself in a conversation on any other topic on which I’m not an expert.
I also keep a list of amazing childless women in case I ever need to remind myself that we don’t need to be parents to make a difference. On my personal list is Amelia Earhart, Dian Fossey, Julia Child, and Juliet Gordon Low, who started the Girl Scout movement. If you need your own role models, Jody Day has put together an outstanding collection on Pinterest.
You’d be hard-pressed to call any of these women insignificant. I remind myself of this when I find myself allowing others to make me feel like less than who I am.
So what do you do when you start to feel like a Ms. Cellophane? Do you feign boredom, try to hop in with an intelligent anecdote, change the subject, or do you slip away and hope no one notices you’ve left?
Guest Post: Who to Blame, if Not My Body
By Paula Coston
As a 59-year-old, I’m still often asked why I never had children, and still find it hard to explain to people who ask. If my reason had been purely biological issues – infertility, endometriosis, chronic health problems – I might be more able to silence the questions.
Apart from physiology, there are plenty of reasons for our childlessness, including:
- Being single; or losing, or not meeting or having, a suitable partner.
- Having a partner who doesn’t want children.
- Being with an infertile partner.
- After becoming an adoptive mother or stepmother, find out that that ‘doesn’t seem enough’.
- Not feeling able to afford a family, or to leave a job.
- Being gay.
- Early term loss, miscarriage, abortion, still birth, cot death, early infant death.
- Not realising in time how quickly our fertility reduces from the age of 35 and beyond.
- Caring for a disabled, sick, elderly or otherwise vulnerable family member during our fertile years.
- The influence of our own upbringing: for instance abusive parenting, or our own family’s religious, moral or class attitudes.
These factors aren’t mutually exclusive. I never consciously put off having a family for my career, but somehow it took over for a while. I was dating various people, then, within the space of a few years, I turned around and my siblings and most of my friends were having children, and time went on, and I just never found the suitable partner I longed for. I tried to adopt as a single, but after three years of trying, that didn’t work out, so for the sake of my ongoing sanity I gave up.
If any of the reasons above apply to you, they probably do in a different combination. And they in turn may have interacted with biological factors: women who suddenly see they have limited options, for example singles, may take measures such as IVF, and still arrive at no happy outcome.
Such reasons – which may shift and change over time – are delicate personal matters. Yet if you’re like me, you somehow feel that you still have to self-justify. We are often made to feel guilty for being childless, somehow wrong-footed. But it’s not as simple as making the wrong choices in life at the wrong times. It may not be our bodies’ fault, but it’s not as simple as being ours either: social influences and pressures and constraints, and the parts played by our loved ones, must also share the blame.
It would help if we had a term to answer our interrogators. The only phrases available to us so far are vague and unfamiliar and unwieldy: ‘childlessness by happenstance’ ‘social infertility’, ‘social factor childlessness’. If you have a more inspired suggestion, please do let me know.
Paula Coston is a 59-year-old administrator in an English university. She writes on childlessness, singledom, the older woman and more at http://boywoman.wordpress.com and for The Huffington Post. Her novel – the first in English about a modern woman childless by circumstance – comes out in April/May, entitled On the Far Side, There’s a Boy.
Prying Medical Questions
I visited a family member in the hospital last week and overheard an orderly asking an elderly patient if she’d had a bowel movement that day.
“Mind your own god#@m business,” said the patient.
The orderly persisted. “The nurse needs to know.”
“Well tell her to go scr%# herself,” yelled the patient.
“I’ll tell her that.”
This scenario would be funnier if it wasn’t so sad, and I empathized with the woman not wishing to divulge such personal information. It reminded me of my own dreaded visits to the doctor/dentist/chiropractor when the doctor/nurse/medical assistant would glance at my chart and then fire off the list of questions:
Are you pregnant?
Do you have children?
Have you ever been pregnant?
Are you taking birth control?
For most women, these are routine questions, no more prying than “Do you smoke?” or “How many days do you exercise?” But for many of us, we dread this personal snooping.
These questions can poke at our most tender emotions and shower us with feelings of shame, regret, or just plain sadness. It’s even worse if the person is actually listening (rather than just checking boxes) and pieces together a combination of responses that doesn’t add up in their normal view of the world. I’ve experienced that pause, while the information sinks in, and I’ve even been asked follow-up questions like “Are you trying?” Which leads to a long and uncomfortable explanation of why I’m not.
I used to dread these visits, but they’ve become easier over time. I’m ready for them. I know they’re going to be asked and I am now at the point where I can answer without too much emotion. I’m also always ready to deal with questions that go beyond the scope of my visit.
I usually say, “We tried and it didn’t work out, and that’s ok.” And I’m ready to answer the follow-up question about whether we considered adoption. My answer is always pretty pointed, something like, “Believe me, we considered everything.” If a line of questioning continues, I keep my responses short and, if the person still doesn’t get the hint, I say, “I’d really prefer not to talk about this right now.” Directing the conversation back to the actual reason for the visit is also a technique that’s been recommended.
So, how do you deal with those doctor appointments? At what point does medical fact-checking cross into “mind your own business” nosiness? Have you even neglected regular check-ups to avoid these questions? How do you manage this often-difficult situation?
It Got Me Thinking…About Our Future Together
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“Your Future Together: Health Information You Need to Know.”
When my husband-to-be and I went to city hall to get our marriage license, we left with a small stack of papers, including a booklet with the above title. Curious, I opened it in the car and flipped through the pages. “Living a Healthy Lifestyle” was introduced on page 1, with recommendations for regular check-ups and exercise, a balanced diet, and up-to-date immunizations. Brief sections explaining the warning signs and resources for victims of domestic violence and HIV/AIDs followed. All this got me up to page 14. The remaining 34 pages are all about—you guessed it—family planning, pregnancy, and healthcare for babies.
There are resources listed for where to get genetic counseling, two full pages on the importance of increasing folic acid intake, and tips on things such as “Have someone else change the cat litter box daily” when you’re expecting. But no where—no where!—is there any mention of infertility, IVF, adoption, or the childfree option. Wait, I need to amend that. On page 16, there’s a list of family planning services available to eligible, low-income couples. Bullet number 4 reads: “Limited infertility and cancer screening services.”
I assumed this pamphlet must be way out-of-date, but the copyright is 2010, and the legal notation on the back indicates it must be distributed to all marriage license applicants. If that’s the case, I’d like to add some new sections to the 2012 edition, sections that address questions such as:
How long should we try to conceive the old-fashioned way before seeking professional help? What is the process for adopting a child? As a gay couple, how do we protect our parental rights? Who offers counseling when our dreams of having children are crushed? Can we have a happy and healthy marriage as a family of two?
I think someone needs to let city hall know that there’s a lot more information we need to know.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She—and her husband—have chosen to be childfree.
Dealing With Social Landmines
The Dealing with Social Landmines e-pamphlet is making its official debut today. As promised in Monday’s post, this is a compilation of tips and strategies for getting through those difficult situations and handling prying questions. Even better, I’m offering it to you, my lovely readers, at the low, low price of absolutely free!
If you’d like your very own copy, plus more upcoming goodies, enter your name and e-mail here and I’ll get it to you right away. You’ll also receive a free subscription to the brand new Life Without Baby newsletter, delivering tips, challenges, and (of course) news to your inbox about once a month. If you find the blog posts and member site are all you need, you can unsubscribe at anytime and I promise my feelings won’t be hurt.
I’d love to hear your feedback on the e-pamphlet and any tips of your own you’d like to share.
Whiny Wednesday: Doctor-Patient Confidentiality
This post was originally published on November 30, 2011.
I’ve had a bad back for a couple of weeks now, so I went to a new doctor for the first time. Here’s the conversation we had (roughly) and keep in mind I went in for a bad back:
Dr: Do you have kids?
Me: No.
Dr: Are you married?
Me: (in my head) What the hell does this have to do with anything?)
Me: (out loud) Yes.
Dr: (moments later) Have you had kids?
Me: No.
Dr: Any pregnancies?
Me: No.
I considered explaining my situation, but the guy’s a chiropractor for God’s sake and he has my file right there, so I let it go. A few minutes later I’m standing with my pants around my ankles getting a back x-ray.
X-ray Tech: Are you pregnant?
Me: No.
X-ray Tech: Is there any chance you could be pregnant?
Me: No.
X-ray Tech: When was your last period?
Me: (gives her the date)
Short pause while she does the math.
X-ray Tech: Ok, I’m going to hang a plate in front of you to protect your ovaries.
Me: (in my mind) Don’t waste your time; they’re already fried.)
Me: (out loud) OK.
So, maybe I was a surly patient. I chalk it up to my bad back. But sometimes I don’t feel like explaining why I don’t have children, not even to my doctor.
It’s Whiny Wednesday. I’m cranky about doctors; what’s under your skin this week?
It Got Me Thinking…About Waiting
By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
As I’m having my teeth cleaned, the hygienist (early 30s, getting married this summer, knows I recently got married) asks, “So are you planning to have kids right away or are you going to wait?”
Um…wait for what?
When I was clear of dental tools, I reminded her that I am 45.
That ship has sailed, sister.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. Most days she finds the absurdities in life very amusing.
Getting Through the Holidays
I spotted this article in a couple of places this week, but here’s the Huffington Post’s version. It’s about coping with the holidays when you’re going through infertility, but I think that many of the points apply to any of us who are facing the holidays without children.
Here’s some of what the authors have to say:
- Decide which events you’ll attend and know you don’t have to go to everything you’re invited to.
- Think about how you’ll handle being around children, new babies, and pregnant relatives. Here’s a post about that.
- Decide how you’ll handle the prying questions about why you don’t have kids yet. You know they’re going to come, so be prepared. Here are some ideas on that.
- Start a new family tradition of your own (I highly recommend this one.) Here are some fun ideas on that front.
The point is, the holidays are supposed to be fun for everyone, including you! So don’t let some Grinch (even an unwitting Grinch) ruin it for you.
If you have other ideas for surviving the holidays, please post them here. We could all use a little help at this time of year.
