26 March, 2024

Monday Miscellany: An Ageing without Children Version

I recently saw someone posting on an ageing without children forum talking about their health and fitness regime as a means of protection for their old age. This wasn't the first time I've seen the argument for taking care of our health and staying as fit as we can for as long as we can. It's a good message, except when it is seen as a solution for the issues those of us without children face when we are old. It's so short-sighted. We can do everything right, and still fall ill. My mother and my in-laws and several friends are examples of healthy living and good exercise, and still being affected by poor health. None of us have total control over that. Things happen. We need to be prepared ... before it is too late! It’s always a good reminder for me to think about the changes needed to my lifestyle, and the timing of these changes, to prepare for infirmity. Of course, Inertia is a huge force for so many of us. I’m particularly vulnerable to it, and to its brother, Procrastination! But we can’t afford to leave it too late. Don't stick your head in the sand and think you'll never get old or sick!

Also, here’s a gripe about the person boasting about her healthy lifestyle. She was effectively humble bragging. and by implying that this is a potential solution comes dangerously close to blaming those who do have health problems. The ignorance of this! So many of us who have been through infertility understand that this attitude is not only incorrect and unfair, but harmful. Did I say anything on the aforementioned forum? No, I didn’t want them to feel I was criticising them. But maybe I should.

In another conversation with a friend who is childfree (by choice), she was bemoaning her husband’s unwillingness to adopt new technologies. He barely uses a smartphone. He doesn’t have children to help him, and he needs to be able to adapt. I’m already appalled at the way government agencies think that technology is the solution to everything, ignoring the fact that many of those who are now retired have spent much of their lives without relying on technology. Learning new things isn’t always easy as you get older, and retaining that information is difficult. I watched my FIL, an early adopter with a personal computer in his house from the 1980s. But by the time he was in his late 80s and early 90s, he was forgetting how to use this technology, let alone being able to update his knowledge. Coupled with loss of sight, he was reliant on us. My friend’s husband risks being left behind, finding himself in even more distress than he already is when he sees friends constantly reach for their phones!

Again, I hear people say that having children keeps you young. Maybe it does – parents know what music their kids are listening to, maybe what websites they’re checking out, etc. But they are so much more aware of the passage of time too. Whereas I don’t have children reminding me how old and out of touch I am! But, as I’ve mentioned before here I’m sure, the parents I know also rely on their kids to teach them about new technology. They’re not very good at adapting to life online, which is both our reality now, and almost definitely our futures. I’m regularly called on by a friend to help her figure out what she wants to do. (I recently had to explain substack after younger people were recommending it to her. “It’s nothing that new,” I said. “Essentially it’s just a blogging platform.”) She makes me feel younger - she’s 10 years younger than me anyway – and more connected!

Any Ageing without Children issues raised around you lately?

18 March, 2024

Quotes in homage of the No Kidding blogging community

I love a good quote. Regular readers know that already! I love finding that someone has perfectly, succinctly, eloquently expressed an emotion I have not previously been able to articulate. Or when I read a quote that has expressed a feeling or belief I have had, and I see it validated in print. (If only I could memorise them all when I first read them.) Quotes can go a long way – much further than a too-wordy blogpost! And so, today’s post again highlights thoughts from the insightful Maya Angelou:

“If you are always trying to be normal, you’ll never know how amazing you can be.”

This seems to be made for the No Kidding community. We feel ever so normal until we find we will never have children. All of a sudden, we are isolated, judged, and seen as different. Not normal, even. But look around at our No Kidding blogging community. They embody this quote, and are truly amazing. I hope they know it.

“When you learn, teach, when you get, give.”

As a lifelong learner, I love this. I think it is also a special strength of our blogging community. Going through something difficult teaches us so many things. My Gifts of Infertility series is evidence of how that worked for me. This community gives us so much support when we need it. Passing it on through our blogs, and giving and taking the community support that has grown here, helps many. Teaching as we learn, giving as we get. This is such a good example for our lives.

And last but never least,

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”
                                                                                   Maya Angelou

 


 

12 March, 2024

No Kidding Voices Count

If you haven’t read Jess’s post about speaking, from a No Kidding childless not by choice perspective at the function for the book Adoption Unfiltered (frequent commenter here, Lori Lavender Luz is a co-author) then I urge you to do it. Do it now! She talks from the perspective of someone who tried to go the adoption route, but is now living a kick-ass (her words) life without children. Many of you might share her perspective, or recognise some of her concerns from your own experience. There was an interesting series of posts from different bloggers some years ago about why we did not adopt. Here’s my post at that time, and it includes links to other posts.

She noted that she hoped her comments would not be seen as sour grapes, given that she did not get the child(ren) she had hoped for from adoption. It was this sentence, above all others, that set me thinking, and that inspired this post.

Why should we feel that our comments on a process that did not work for us should be disparaged as “bitter” or “sour grapes” compared to those who are considered the “success” stories? Answer = we shouldn’t. Our views are just as valid, and perhaps more so, because we are evidence that the processes are not infallible, that they don’t work for everyone, and in many cases, they don’t work for the majority. Everyone needs to understand why that is. Our voices count, and should be heard.

In general, people who get what they wanted understandably find it hard to critique the processes that gave them their heart’s desire, however hard they were to go through. Stepping back and looking at these difficult processes objectively can be very confronting to them. (Though Lori LL is a notable exception, and is doing great work talking about adoption.) How can someone who got the child they wanted critique the process if, in doing that, they feel they’re betraying that child? How can they critique a process or agency or clinic when that can be seen as a critique of their own decisions, or of them and their families. It’s not surprising some might react defensively, or simply be unable to step back and review the process without bias. Those of us who went through these processes but came out without a child have a very different perspective on what is good, what needs to be changed, and why. But for the adoptive/IVF parents, it is as if they wouldn’t have their children if things needed to be changed. And that becomes terrifyingly unimaginable for them.

And of course, the best form of defence is attack. So yes, it is true, just as Jess feared, that some of the “successes” of assisted reproduction/adoption etc will label us as bitter, our perspective as “sour grapes,” and any criticism is seen as “not getting over it.” Or they think we’ve taken the easy way out, and didn’t deserve their “success.” I’ve seen all these reactions in the media, in blogs, and in email exchanges. Our own Pamela Tsigdinos has been subjected to this view in the media, but is undeterred, still speaking out on IVF still speaking out on IVF and patient rights just last week. It’s a case of being prepared to see things from a different perspective. We all have different points of view, and those who didn’t get the “golden ticket” may even have a wider perspective. We learn to see a subject from all sides, because we’ve been on both sides – the hopeful who desperately want it to work, and those for whom hope wasn’t enough.

It is precisely because of this differing perspective that we are the ones who should be speaking out. I see both the joy of the wanted results and the problematic issues around the assisted reproduction industry and adoption – the so-called success rates, regulation and limits and lack of limits, over-pricing and prescribing, the treatment of birth parents, care or lack of care for the children involved, payment and non-payment, support and lack of support, and all the myriad international and cultural issues, etc. It’s not a contradiction to both be pleased that there are paths to parenthood for the infertile, and to want to ensure these paths take care of those prospective parents during and after this process, as well as act in the best interests of the children who may emerge from this. That’s not sour grapes. It is in fact much more holistic. And maybe we might actually be better placed to think about the children’s interests, because we don’t have that deep, personal parental relationship that can at times (understandably) trigger defence mechanisms and block honest reflection.

It should be a requirement to consider all these factors in any discussion about assisted reproduction or adoption. All of these processes are far more complicated than the public discourse or industry advocates ever acknowledge. Along with the details – the science, financial, emotional and societal issues – of adoption or assisted reproduction, they don’t talk about the hidden results that no-one involved really wants to acknowledge. The No Kidding. Us. Me. My existence suggests an outcome no-one wants to admit is real or is statistically very significant, and is terrifying to those people entering these processes. It’s easier not to consider us, talk to us, or include us.

Yet we might be the ones who understand best what the data means to real people. Many of us who walked away from IVF or assisted reproduction or adoption – either before by choosing not to go through the process, or after, when it was clear there wouldn’t be a baby coming as a result – are the ones who recognised these risk factors, who understood the data, the implications of all the various options and avenues, and made the hard decision – or had it made for us – and had to walk away. That was never easy. But it is an outcome that everyone needs to acknowledge, and more importantly, understand.

After all, our message is that our outcomes should not be hidden, ignored, or feared. We shouldn’t be erased from the conversation. We should be an important part of it. Our perspective counts.

That is why I’m immensely proud of Jess that her always wise perspective was included in the conversation around Adoption Unfiltered. (Of course, I’m immensely proud of Lori LL and her co-authors too.) In fact, I think it is terribly important, and moving – monumental even – that someone who didn't get the baby they wanted should be the one to talk about that. An unfiltered discussion indeed!

Our voices count, and our voices matter. Sadly, the opportunities to use them are still too few and far between.