Thoughts on my Otherhood

It's been a long time since I felt the need to read other people's experiences and say, "that's just how I feel." I needed that a lot when going through my ectopic pregnancies, and a lot too when going through the realisation and acceptance that I would never have children. I got plenty of satisfaction during the first example, and much less during the second. But there were at least a few people around in similar circumstances, and we would share our experiences and the Things People Said and for a moment, feel understood. Much later, when I began blogging and reading blogs (for over 13 years), I also found that comfort. But because I am older than most writing about this, and had already been writing about it (on messageboards etc) since 2001, it has been more of an exercise in personally putting words to what I think and believe and have learnt, and more importantly, sharing that knowledge, than the discovery and relief of finding I am not alone. Although knowing others understand is always, always, a bonus.

Yesterday, I had to take a selfie of me with Otherhood, the book (see Note below), and make a video reading a sentence (or two) from my essay. To do that, I'd watched the video of another contributor. Her sentences were ones we all know: 

"Just a note: never say to someone who is struggling to get pregnant, 'Have you thought about adoption?' Yes, they fucking have."  Kate Camp, in Otherhood: Essays on being childless, childfree, and child adjacent.

I grinned with delight. This was going to be good! For some reason, I'd been holding off reading the other essays. But Kate's sentence, her grin and glare in her video, set me off. I finally picked up my copy of Otherhood and started reading.

I laughed at the first essay I chose to read, by Kathryn van Beek, one of the editors. With humour and heartbreak, she ticked off so many issues I've talked about here over the years, and except one, that all the blogs I've read have mentioned too. She mentioned an experience I thought I alone had had. But of course, I wasn't the only one. And although I felt alone, I was not. It was the one mentioned in the first paragraph of this post. It was then that I realised anew the power of sharing experiences, of letting people know they're not alone, of knowing that there are others out there who understand. All this time later, over 20 years, I finally know that someone else saw those signs, and felt the same way I felt seeing them in the midst of losing a much-wanted pregnancy.

Since then, I've dived into other essays. In every essay I've read (only 4-5 so far), there has been at least one thing that has made me think, "that was (or is) me!" Including in at least one childfree essay. I'm resisting the urge not to mark the book, because I hate writing on books. I mentioned to my husband I think I need to buy another copy that I can write on or highlight! (He thought that was weird.) There is so much in it worth blogging about. I feel a renewed enthusiasm. I don't want to overwhelm you or push the book on you. But I definitely want to share some of the thoughts I have about it.

At the moment, I'm only reading the essays from my town, because we have our launch function on Wednesday. I want to meet those other authors, tell them what their essays mean to me, and share in an environment when, for once, I'm with my tribe in real life. But I'm so happy and grateful that I have my online tribe to share this with too.

 

Note: Links to buy can be found here, including for ebooks. Our editors advise that the print book will be available internationally from 8 August. Orders from overseas distributors come quite late and then the books have to be shipped via Melbourne, aggregated with other publishers’ books and then shipped to Chicago and London, hence the delay in availability. However, from May 9 people overseas will still be able to buy OTHERHOOD from NZ retailers, or from Massey Uni Press directly – they'll just have to pay international shipping fees.

Monday Miscellany: No Kidding Version

Well, after finally posting about Otherhood last week, what happened this week but my copy of the book arrived. Yay! I have yet to read all the essays. (I have one or two time-urgent tasks to complete before I can delve into it. Though I'll need to do that before the launch next week!) Trying to decide whether I publicise this on my non-No Kidding social media accounts. I think I will, but it's always a risk. 

Today is the first day of the second term of school for this academic year in New Zealand. That meant the cafes and open spaces and beaches were all free of school age kids, and those of us who don't have them could relish the ease of getting tables, and the lower noise volumes and serenity of kid-free spaces. It helped that today is a gorgeous, if cool, autumn day. A lovely day to be out and enjoying the views of our lovely city. 

A second thought. It's not that seeing kids in a cafe or beach or walking track or at the supermarket bothers me. These days I don't feel pangs when I see them. It's just that they are naturally more boisterous, get in the way more often, take up more room. That's fine when they're kids I know and love and want to spend time with. But otherwise, life is easier for me when they're at school. I'm sure empty nesters and adults who haven't yet had children feel the same. At the beachside cafe, there were tables of older women chatting and enjoying themselves. Maybe they'd spent the last two weeks babysitting their grandkids, or like me, just appreciated the quiet, beautiful day. My pleasure in child-free spaces may well be shared by many of those who have children and grand-children too. We are not alone in this.

I read an almost-heated discussion between No Kidding women on a Fbk group this morning. One said that however difficult having children was, it didn't compare to the isolation and sadness of being childless not by choice, especially when ageing. Another person said that many people with children don't have the company or support of their kids when they are ageing. And that if we expect to be sad and alone, whether we have children or not, we are more likely to feel like that. I didn't engage. I feel as if the truth for me might be somewhere in the middle, leaning towards the more positive end of the spectrum. I make a point of enjoying the benefits of not having children (see above), because otherwise I'm just making myself miserable. But I'm not blind to the difficulties that may face me. I feel compassion for those who dwell on their situation, wishing it could be different, not realising that we can in fact learn to control some of what we think and feel. I think that's one of the biggest gifts of going through loss and childlessness. It doesn't mean I find it easy. But knowing I don't have to be filled with regret, but can embrace and enjoy my life, can bring a lot of comfort.

Otherhood is coming ...

It is so exciting! Otherhood: Essays on being childless, childfree and child adjacent is available from 9 May. As I've mentioned before (here), I have an essay in the book, and can't wait to read all the other essays. I'm sure to find a lot of food for thought in the perspectives of others who are Not Kidding in New Zealand. No doubt there will be a lot of blog posts as a result too! I'm eagerly awaiting for my copy to arrive in the mail.

It was also exciting to hear a review of it here on Radio New Zealand this afternoon. A positive one, too! You can find the brief but interesting discussion from 08:43 minutes into the recording. Also, it was interesting to hear the announcer mentioning the reverence for having children, and how that affects those who do not have children, for whatever reason. (I've written about him before - here and here.) What is encouraging is that these conversations are now more normalised - at least on this father of four's radio show - and he is increasingly showing growth and understanding of the issues and nuances of not having children.

Back to the book! Publishers will ship internationally, and e-books should be available soon after. I'll provide updates.

Pre-orders are available here: https://www.masseypress.ac.nz/books/all/otherhood

https://www.instagram.com/otherhood.book/

https://www.instagram.com/nokiddinginnz/

Of course, ironically, in writing this post, I was reminded of my Otherhood. I was trying to find my other blog posts about the book. First, I looked in my MS Word document filled with published blog posts and drafts. It wouldn't search for "Otherhood" as a freestanding word though, would it? No, all my results were "motherhood." Argh, MS Word! I'm shaking my fist at you.

 

 

 

 

Feminist concerns don't end with childlessness

My littlest niece turns 16 next week. 16!!! I’ve been more disturbed by that than my other nieces/nephews growing up. Maybe because I’ve had more to do with her. Maybe because she’s the last niece/nephew. There are already great-nephews on the scene; the oldest has his 21st birthday next week too. Good grief!

I was recently watching a teen drama, and couldn’t stop thinking about my niece being in each of the situations portrayed. Then yesterday morning, I read a NYT article that shocked me. I guess the fact I don’t have kids has protected me from the realities of teen life in the 2020s! Then again, because I don’t have the same bond and bias as a parent, maybe I can look at all these events and social patterns without quite so much personal involvement, and certainly without the fear of judgement of my parenting skills, or the often-delusional belief that “my child would never xxxx” that I have heard in the past from so many friends and family. I sent the article to my sister and chatted about it with her – she’s open to my comments as long as I’m restrained and tactful about my opinions! (It helps if I keep them generalised, rather than niece-specific!)

The thing about this article that disturbs me though is the lack of progress that women (or young girls) have made in terms of their sexual relationships. And men too, for that matter, as the article talks about peer pressure to perfect these acts. It stuns me that still, in 2024, certain acts are prioritised over female consent and pleasure, even by the young women themselves. And that what we might have seen as abuse is accepted by a majority today. Is it because they think it’s cool? That they have to, to be seen as desirable? That it fulfils some kind of female role? And some kind of male/female dominance/subservience role? Argh. Or is it just a lack of education, of discussion about gender and sexual roles? Is it just ignorance and peer pressure? In the meantime, in the practice discussed in the article, women are suffering ongoing health implications, and even death.

I don’t have to be a mother to be disappointed and disgusted by that. I don’t have to have a genetic stake in the next generation to be concerned about the future for young women and girls, and the way formerly abusive behaviours are being normalised. I despair that so little progress has been made. I could start into a much longer rant about my views on this, but I will spare you that. I'll just say that in this case, my bond with those who are subject to society's still biased gender assumptions and roles is far closer than any perceived distance between those who are parents and those who are not.

No Kidding Guests

We have guests coming for dinner tonight. So I've no time to blog (and clearly didn't plan in advance enough) because I'll be baking a cake (my first real cake* in a year or more), and scurryfunging (my new favourite word - see note** below). It's good having visitors - for once the house will be clean and tidy. And that lasts after they're gone too. So will the cake!

Our guests don't have kids either. So there will be no talk of kids and/or grand-kids. Rather, we'll be talking about adventures, past and future. Giving and receiving tips. Living the lives we have.

*  I.e. Not a cheesecake, lemon slice, mince pie, or baclava, none of which qualify as cakes if you ask me. 

**Scurryfunging = the frenetic cleaning before visitors arrive