Mother's Day For the Accidental Non-Mom

I wrote this. It was difficult. It is cross-posted at BlogHer.

Years ago a friend of mine frequently wore a t-shirt that had one of those retro comic strip characters - a woman right out of Mary Worth, maybe - holding her hand up to her mouth to stifle a scream. The thought bubble next to her head said, "Oh my God! I forgot to have children!"

Irony, right. I hated that shirt. I didn't get it. I couldn't imagine a time when I would ever (EVER!) forget something so important. You know, how some people say they forgot to eat? I don't get that either. And whereas I could fully acknowledge another person feeling that way, I knew even then that it would never be me.

Today is indeed Mother's Day, a day set aside for the billions of women who have mothered, intentionally, accidentally, biologically, adoptively - you name it, and please do, as my intention here is not to leave anyone out. I celebrate it for my mother, and my grandmother, and my aunts and my cousins who have kids. I celebrate it for my best friends who are incredible moms. I even got an e-mail from Bill Clinton, wanting me to celebrate it for Hillary.

I do not celebrate it for myself. And I was right about the shirt.

Elisa wrote yesterday about being childfree by choice, from a perspective that is completely different from mine, but which I respect immensely because it does what I love in situations like this - it states her truth, and it moves along.

Unlike her, I have absolutely always felt a biological and emotional imperative to parent. I am in a no-or-few-woman's land where this hasn't happened for me for a very particular set of circumstances that I'm not sure I can adequately explain, but mostly amount to issues of bad timing and relationship failure. I do not know for a fact that I am infertile, although at 37 my time is getting short to find out, reasonably speaking. I am not career-obsessed or convinced I have a professional mission that precludes having my own children. I am not, finally, willingly "child-free" as it's commonly understood and I'm not ambivalent about the matter either.

This is so not fun to write about, just so you know. It's awkward and uncomfortable. It's hard to be funny about it and I've been going for funny lately. It speaks to years of feeling like you're on the outside looking in, of not feeling like you can have a seat at a table you've been waiting for for years, and meanwhile, hello, your feet hurt and you're pissed off and all of the free appetizers are gone. But I do believe it's necessary, so I do it.

I've shared my perspective on the matter on BlogHer before, in posts about pre-emptive fear of infertility and how not having children doesn't necessarily make one "childfree".

The short story (beyond the whole "life isn't FAIR" bit that I'll spare you) is that I was a late bloomer when it came to dating, and when I finally did get going, I dated people who weren't "ready" for anything remotely resembling a family. I did this a few times, and spent a long time waiting for relationships to work out that just weren't going to, although I just didn't know that at the time. I was driven by my heart and not at all by my head, and it's really easy when the years are burning by to think that things will work out, because, well, they've got to, right, at some point? Well, not necessarily. I got burned in spite of my best efforts, I got scared, and in the few years since my last relationship, I have not come across anyone who would inspire me to take a chance quite yet.

And I've also elaborated on why I won't pick just anyone to parent with, just so I could.

In the meantime, I've pursued my education and changed my career path. I've traveled. I've immersed myself in art and music and culture, and a bunch of bad television when that gets to be too much. I have so many friends, sometimes I can't believe it. And my life overflows with family, which is the part that often gets left out of the story for women without children. I've helped my parents to care for my grandmothers, including my mother's mother who died in front of my eyes last September. I've been a support system for my sister, and she for me. I've spent a lot of time with my own mother, in a time of transition for our family that hasn't been easy. Oh, and I even had a dog, who died in March after 13 excellent years.

And in spite of the fullness of my life, there is my shadow side, the involuntary jealousy followed by a rack of guilt when friends have children or talk glowingly about the fulfillment of parenting, the pain when people say things like, "Oh, I don't know what I'd do if I just had my work and not my kids," the inability to adequately express online just how I feel about mommyblogging without coming off like a jerk, because that's not how I mean it at all. I WISH this had been my conscious choice, and that I could accept the choices I did make related to relationships and other things that lead to children as part of the plan that some ultimately benevolent universe has for me. I am not that peaceful about it. I made choices for which I'm responsible, for sure, but I didn't think they'd add up to not having children, if that makes any sense.

Yeah, me either.

My family does not pressure me, never has, but of course they worry. Last Christmas, I sponsored a Salvation Army "angel" at my workplace, where you learn the age, gender and name of a child and put together a package for her. I got a three-year old girl who loved Dora and pink. I went to Target and bought the cutest outfits I could put together, and some Dora toys (So much Dora!), and a pair of toddler-sized Uggs knock-offs. I put them all together in a package, and gave it to my mom to drop off with her stuff. She allowed herself to say to me later that all she could think when she saw it all was how much she wished I had a child, because my heart was so obviously in this, and besides she would be so very fashion-forward. And this was fine with me, because I was thinking the same thing.

I have considered alternatives. I've watched some single women in my life parent, and haven't been sure that I'm equipped for it at all. I want to be. If I could snap my fingers and be financially and emotionally solid enough to provide a life for a child on my own at this point, I would. My Google history contains more than a few adoption research missions, and when I was in Vietnam this March and saw a Western couple holding infant twins they had clearly come over to bring back home, I admit I hung around on the perimeter a little with tears in my eyes. It's just not time yet, although I feel it will be someday.

In the meantime, I move on, and I do not dwell on this situation daily, beyond occasional flashes of fear of a future spent not just childfree, but family-free, which I know is unlikely, but still. This Mother's Day is an okay day. I have work to do and a semester to finish. I don't feel pain or even more than the usual low-level anxiety about where my life is going, with or without a partner or children. I'll see my mom and my grandma and my aunt today and we'll eat cheeseburgers and drink some beers and it'll be great because I haven't seen my aunts and uncles since Christmas just about and I miss them. I'll see my godson who is one of my favorite people. I'll send my cousin an e-card because I'm proud of how she's met some challenges to be one of the best and most competent parents I've ever known. I'll - for the most part - be grateful for what I've got, and try not to focus on what I don't, just like every other day.

Childfree, childless, and other thoughts on the matter from around the Web:

Of COURSE Wikipedia has an entry for "childfree." And of course I disagree with it. Not all of us choose it willfully.

Childfree is a term used to describe individuals who neither have nor desire to have children. An alternative description is "childless by choice". The choice not to procreate has only been popular since the development of reliable birth control and therefore was not commonly seen before the 1960s. Additionally, such an option is rarely seen in non-industrialized countries. Childfree groups began to form in the 1970s, most notable among them The National Organization for Non-Parents and No Kidding!. There have been a significant number of books written about the childfree, although quantitative academic research on this group is just now emerging.

The childfree are a diverse group of people, much like the reasons behind the choice not to procreate; however, childfree people tend to be less conventional, more highly educated, and professional. Despite similarities, childfree individuals do not share a unified political or economic philosophy, and most prominent organizations tend to be social in nature. However, there are a range of social positions related to the childfree that some choose to endorse. To this end, some political and social activism is starting to emerge from a subset of this population.

So many assumptions there, really. Someone needs to edit it, but I don't have time.

SavvyAuntie wants Madison Avenue to stop wishing her a happy Mother's Day. I recommend reading the whole thing, especially if you've been involved in recent conversations online about who's marketing to whom, and what and where and why. (Hi there, there's a person on the other end of that pitch.)

For every Mom out there, there is a Non-Mom. Some by choice. Some yet to be. Some who just can't. None of these women want your Happy Mother's Day wishes. In fact, you are probably hurting some feelings along the way.

She's also Twittering today about missing her mom, among other things.

Cranny Anie has kids but I thought this was a beautiful message for the lot of us.

Let us be open-hearted to those who want, wish and can’t be mothers, those with children who have truly lost their way, those who are without family-emotionally or physically. Today’s “widows and Orphans” can come in many more faces: single, divorced, childless, -wrongly defined as being “have-nots”. We all possess the ability to pour our legacy out into our world. Be it into children, passionate work, abilities, gifts and lives so worth sharing. No one is meant to be excluded in God’s Family. Everyone is allowed a true HOME in this family, a safe, nurturing, truth-telling, accepting loving place and a significant meat and potatoes kind of a role.

Unscripted has a good article on "Mother's Day, Childfree Style."

In San Francisco and it's not too late? Proving that Craigslist can be a source of awesome as well as profane, check out today's gathering for women without children and those who have lost their moms.

...by choice or circumstance. We'll gather, create a special Mother’s Day acknowledgment of participant’s current realities, & celebrate the joys and/or sadness of this facet of our lives. We'll honor the thousands of year old mythological, cultural and historical annual celebrations of women, peace and creativity.

Noon The morning gathering will end with a light BRUNCH. Afternoon participants are invited to share our food as well.

2 p.m. – 4 p.m. GATHERING FOR WOMEN WITHOUT MOTHERS: In the afternoon, women w/o mothers will gather for a special honoring of the mother’s whom we have lost, or are unable to be with, through death or life circumstance. Please bring a photograph of your mother if you have one.

SeniorWriter Marlys Marshall Styne's Mother's Day card from a stepson she admits that she'd rather usually forget made a difference for her this year.

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There's nothing I can do for David; his own mother, who is in her eighties, is in charge. However, I need to be more compassionate. Thank you for the lovely card, David. I plan to write you a letter soon, and I may even buy you a cup of coffee when and if I see you. You may be helping to melt the hard heart of a lonely old woman who has always hated or ignored mother's day..

Sandy at Inspiration Every Day asks that women without children not be forgotten today.

In honor of Mother's Day, I decided to do a week of quotes on mothers. I'm wishing all you gals out there a happy mother's week! Even the childless ones like myself need to be recognized. We still do a lot of mothering; to our furry children, partners, friends and families!

Finally, Msfitzita says we all deserve banana pancakes today, and helpfully includes a recipe.

I believe that all women are mothers. We respond to pain as though it was our own, we heal wounds of the soul, we nurture and cherish relationships, we give of ourselves over and over again.

We are all mothers. Even those of us with no children to tend. Even those who have never had the chance to be pregnant at all.

I believe there is a mother in all of us.

And we all deserve mounds of pancakes glistening with butter and dripping with syrup at least once a year.

Embrace her philosophy or not, I'm totally on board with the last line. To this, I say, "rock on."

And come see me along with Suebob Davis, Teri Tith, and Laura Scott on the Who We Are: Childless In the Blogosphere panel at the BlogHer Conference in San Francisco this July. I may be sickeningly nervous, so please be kind.

Laurie White writes online at LaurieWrites. Her Grandma rocks, and so does her Mom. Happy Mother's Day! Check them out.

Comments

[Teri Tith]

Hi Laurie,
I am looking forward to meeting you and being on the panel at BlogHer with you. You write so well.

I think it writing is a healing thing. Blogging allows others on that journey with you, allowing you to help other people too.

The BlogHer Conference is going to be so fun. I am nervous too. The panel is too small to represent all the faces of women without children. I hope at least one woman will be an "early articulator" (never wanted them, never will mindset).

See you soon in San Francisco! I wish I had a Presidential suite where we could invite all childless/childfree/non-mom bloggers back for a party!!!

[laurie]

Thanks for the compliment Teri and I'm also so looking forward to this. We'll find a place for a party. : )

[Karen]

Laurie,
Thanks for this thoughtful, intimate reflection. You pour so much of yourself into your writing, and it feels like a privilege to be allowed a glimpse into your superb mind and golden heart.
Love,
Karen

[Baby Smiling In Back Seat]

Here from Creme de la Creme.

Several years ago a friend of mine, trying hard at 35+ but having no success finding a partner to create the family she was seeking, declared, "I've decided to join Childless by Choice." And I told her, "You're not childless by choice. You're childless by circumstance, and you probably won't be childless forever. You would be an impostor. What will those ladies think of you when you ditch them to go have babies?"

She didn't join, and soon after she got together with her now-husband, and they now have three kids.

I think "childless by choice" is an accurate description, but childfree encompasses so much more as you say. Then there are those of us who are "currently unwillingly childfree but trying damn hard and in the meantime pretending to be willfully childfree."

[Kimberly]

Found this older post from your recent comments list and now I'm crying.

Because I'm in the same boat. I did things the "right" way and now I'm 36, divorced, and without kids. And now is not the right time, either.

Those moments when a hyper-fertile family member says, "Christmas is nothing until you've had children" or "My life would have no meaning without my kids" kick me in the gut harder than the divorce ever did.

I really wish I could have been in San Francisco to see your panel.

[Sarah]

Thanks for having written this so I don't have to. I have never been a big fan of the "made-up" holidays like this, but I've certainly always done something for my own mother. But I never expected to react quite so bitterly to Mother's Day as I did yesterday. Seeing all of my friends wishing each other happy days on Facebook, seeing all of the blog posts, even the Royals game was filled with Mother's Day. It's just not fair. I don't know how I got to this point in my life. Somedays, like yesterday, it's hard to be satisfied with all that I do have (home, great career, fabulous dog, good friends) when I'm forced to confront smack in the face the one thing I don't have.

[Nordette aka Verite]

Laurie, this was my first Mother's Day since my mom passed away. I didn't expect to feel the way I do, but when the Mother's Day commercials started, my began watering and that's continued until now. Yet, I didn't cry much when she died in November. It just struck me suddenly this spring that my mother's gone from the planet, despite the reality that she was gone in many ways before her death. She had Alzheimer's.

My daughter is like you, a little younger, but she's always said she wanted children. Lately, without my asking, she's expressed that perhaps she doesn't. I don't know if this is how she really feels or is she trying to persuade herself that children aren't important to her because she sees no mate in sight, and like you wouldn't pull in anyone to be a parent just for the sake of having a child.

Your post is moving and well-written. I should drop by more often. :-)