Article: "Aging Without Children"

Getting older without children to look in on us & take care of us (we hope) is something that I know a lot of childless/free people think about. A lot. Probably more so than our peers with children. I know I do, especially since I'm not getting any younger. Not that having children is any guarantee that you won't be lonely in your old age, of course, but the odds are probably more in parents' favour, wouldn't you think? Which is why I appreciate reading articles like this one from the New York Times's The New Old Age blog. While it's frank in its discussion about the challenges of childfree aging, it's also comforting to know there's a new study that shows there is little difference between parents & childless people when it comes to levels of care and psychological well being. Did this article make you feel any better, or just add to your anxiety on this issue? (And does anyone know why my paragraph breaks are not "taking" on Blogger lately??)

Reading: "Willful Blindness" by Margaret Heffernan

I can't remember if I saw an article about it first or spotted the book at the bookstore... but as soon as I saw Willful Blindness: Why We Ignore the Obvious at our Peril by Margaret Heffernan and realized what it was about, I knew I had to read it ASAP (or at least, as soon as I finished reading & blogging about Melissa Ford's book, Life From Scratch). ; ) I enjoy reading books that help explain what makes people tick, and why they do the things they do. Willful Blindness could be read as a companion volume to Barbara Ehrenreich's Bright-Sided (which I also read & reviewed on this blog). Both books explore slightly different facets of the same issue: what happens when we are confronted with the less pleasant aspects of being human, why, and what we can do about it. Ehrenreich focuses on the pervasive tendency in our culture to "accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative." Heffernan casts a somewhat broader net, looking at the reasons WHY we sometimes fail to see the obvious and, importantly, what can we do about it. "Willful blindness," Heffernan explains,

...doesn't have a single driver, but many. It is a human phenomenon to which we all succumb in matters little and large. We can't notice and know everything: the cognitive limits of our brain simply won't let us. That means we have to filter or edit what we take in. So what we choose to let through and to leave out is crucial. We mostly admit the information that makes us feel great about ourselves, while conveniently filtering whatever unsettles our fragile egos and most vital beliefs. It's a truism that love is blind; what's less obvious is just how much evidence it can ignore. Ideology powerfully masks what, to the uncapivated mind, is obvious, dangerous or absurd and there's much about how, and even where, we live that leaves us in the dark. Fear of conflict, fear of change keeps us that way. An unconscious (and much denied) impulse to obey and conform shields us from confrontation and crowds provide friendly alibis for our inertia. And money has the power to blind us, even to our better selves." (pp.3-4) (emphasis mine)

While Heffernan doesn't specifically address issues of infertility or pregnancy loss in her book, it's easy for infertiles/bereaved parents to draw some insights from her keen observations. Here are some of the chapter headings, & how I see the material in them relating to the ALI world.

• Affinity and Beyond: Heffernan describes how we naturally gravitate toward the familiar, consciously or unconsciously seeking out the known & the comfortable. It's why we seek each other out in the blogging world, isn't it? -- to find others who have an experience similar to our own. And it explains why others who haven't had a similar experience -- even friends & relatives who love us -- consciously or unconsciously shy away from us when we remind them of our infertility &/or our lost children. They thought we were like them -- suddenly, we're not, and in a way that's pretty foreign to them (not to mention unpleasant, maybe even frightening). "What's most frightening about this process is that as we see less and less, we feel more comfort and greater certainty. We think we see more -- even as the landscape shrinks." (p. 21)


• Love is Blind: not only do we tend to overlook the faults of those we love, says Heffernan, "we are highly driven to find and to protect the relationships that make us feel good about ourselves and that make us feel safe." (p. 24) Hearing about infertility & pregnancy loss doesn't make people feel good or safe (even if it's not THEIR infertility or pregnancy loss) so, often, the relationship suffers. We also don't like to think associate sad or unpleasant things with people we love. As an example, Heffernan writes about how she spent most of her first marriage in denial about the seriousness of her husband's congenital heart defect: "Because our identity & security depend so much on our loved ones, we don't want to see anything that threatens them."


• Dangerous Convictions: Heffernan describes how our brains tend to filter out information that might challenge our most cherished beliefs. Which might explain why it's so hard to dispel some of the myths & misconceptions surrounding infertility & loss -- & why it seems to hard for some people to accept that not everyone will achieve pregnancy, not all babies get to come home...


• The Ostrich Instruction: refusing to see anything that makes us uncomfortable, resistance to changing the status quo -- even when the status quo is endangering lives.


• Just Following Orders: Our inclination is to trust our doctors & to do what they tell us to do. Most of the time, that's the wisest course of action -- but how many of us have followed our doctor's orders against our better instincts, and lived to regret it?


• The Cult of Cultures: groups exert a powerful conforming influence over the individual. And right now, of course, what more powerful "cult" is there than the worship of all things pregnancy, mommy & baby related?? "Once we conform, there are many rewards. Not just Cayman Islands bank accounts and media coverage, but tiny, daily reinforcements that come from being with the in-crowd..." (p. 133) So often, the in-crowd (parents) doesn't even recognize all the ways in which they are privileged, in which non-parents feel excluded.


• Out of Sight, Out of Mind: "It is so much easier to be blind to the consequences of your actions when you do not have to see them play out," writes Heffernan. (p. 167) She was talking about how difficult it is for huge multinational corporations to take responsibility for their actions when the people actually doing the work are so far removed from those at the top (case in point: BP & last year's Gulf oil spill). But, as a non-parent, outside the "in-crowd/cult/power group" (i.e., parents), I found meaning in these lines: "Power imposes distance between those that have it and those that do not. The powerful are quite often unaware of this; the best struggle against it, but the distance is always there." (p. 168)(emphasis mine) She does note that power often comes at a cost: isolation from reality. And if and when the bubble of power bursts, the awakening can be very rude.


• Cassandra: In ancient Greek mythology, Cassandra was given the gift of prophecy -- with the accompanying curse that nobody would believe her. "She embodies that baffled rage that we all feel when no one else can see what we see." (p. 201) Sound familiar?? So does this: "The greatest shock, for Cassandras and whistleblowers alike, is their revised view of the world. Having started as conformists and loyalists, they emerge from their experience wary of authority and skeptical of much that they see and read and hear. Seeing the truth, and then acting on it, changes their vision of life. This independence of mind can instill a profound sense of isolation. But setting themselves free from consolatory fictions can also reveal new allies and soul mates and inspire a vibrant and purposeful identity." (p. 220)

"Cassandras show us that we don't have to be blind," Heffernan concludes. Her final chapter, "See better," outlines some of the steps we can take to combat willful blindness in our own lives. A few of these include (not necessarily in the author's words here):

• "Recognizing the homogenity of our lives... putting more effort into reaching out to those who don't fit in and seeing positive value in those that prove more demanding... we have to acknowledge our biases." (p. 223-4)


• Be wary of grand ideologies that neatly answer all questions. "We need actively to seek disconfirmation" & third opinions. (p.224)


• Learn to think critically. "Being a critical thinker starts with resisting the urge to be a pleaser." (p. 230)


• Stand up for others. Develop empathy. There's an interesting description about a successful anti-bullying program that tries to change patterns of thinking and understanding, from "me" to "we."


• Learn from history: lessons from the past can alert us to trends and sensitize us to signals in the present.


• Work to tear down the silos that separate us.


• To what extent are we educating & bringing up our children to comply and conform?


• We "need to celebrate those that make the noise, heroes more inspiring than talent contest winners and drunken movie stars." (p. 245) (As the quote goes, "Well-behaved women rarely make history.")

"We make ourselves powerless when we choose not to know. But we give ourselves hope when we insist on looking," Heffernan concludes. I've only just skimmed the surface of Heffernan's thinking here. If what you've read here intrigues you, then "insist on looking" at this thought-provoking book!

Odds & ends

• Little Girl Next Door -- my yardstick for how big Katie might have been, what she might have been doing, how she might be dressing, etc. etc. -- turns 12 very soon. For all intents & purposes, however, she is already looking & acting scarily like a teenager. I've noticed a big shift in attitude lately. Until just recently, whenever we'd see each other coming & going, she'd wave enthusiastically, yell out, "Hi Sam! Hi Lori!" and sometimes come over & regale us with longwinded chatter. During the recent March break, however, we saw her coming & going with her friends several times (cellphones in hand)(!!), & were lucky if we got a perfunctory nod. I had to laugh, though -- I saw them leaving one evening, tote bags & pillows in hand, obviously headed for a sleepover. For all their grownup airs, they both still had teddy bears sticking out of the back of their bags. ; )
• Speaking of 12-year-olds... dh & I have to attend a funeral visitation this weekend (nobody close, but a relative's inlaw). There will be lots of his relatives in attendance, including one of his cousins & his wife. The oldest of their two sons is 12 -- his mother was pregnant with him at the same time I was pregnant with Katie. Katie was stillborn in early August, he was born in late September, & Katie was due in mid-to-late November. Difficult as it sometimes is to hear about what he's doing in school, etc., I'm always thankful that (a) he's a boy & (b) his parents are often yelling at him. ; )
• Interesting article in the New York Times about the preference among some (mostly evangelical Protestant) religious congregations for married ministers. Preferably with stay -at-home wives (who presumably have lots of time & energy to spare to helping run the church -- free of charge, of course). And children, of course. How many great ministers are these congregations missing out on because of their insistence on conforming to a certain ideal?
• So many new people -- YOUNG people, most of them women in their early/mid-20s, unmarried -- have joined us at work in recent months. And each time I get talking to one of them, up pops the question: "Do you have any kids?" I just tell them no. Sometimes I'll add that I have two grown nephews. I can see that they are so eager for role models, for someone to tell them that it's possible to have it all -- marriage, motherhood, a career. I'm always sorry to disappoint them. Although (proud feminist though I am) I'm not entirely convinced that it IS possible to have it all -- all at once, anyway. (Which certainly doesn't mean we should stop trying.)
• I've been thinking a lot about work issues lately & the relationship between work and childless/free life (and MY childless/free life, specifically) -- fodder for a future post, perhaps....

(Un?) Lucky 13

13 years ago today, I peed on a stick -- and watched, dumbfounded, as two blue lines popped into view almost immediately.

Life has not been the same since then.

ABCs of Me

I don't think I've done this one yet...

A. Age: Ummmm.... 50 (eeeekkk...)

B. Bed size: Queen.

C. Chore you dislike: Washing the floor. Love it when it's done, but I always procrastinate on doing it.

D. Dogs: None. I briefly had a mutt named Honey when I was a preschooler. She went to live on my grandparents' farm & was run over by a car. :(

E. Essential start to your day: A bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar & cinnamon, & a cup of tea.

F. Favorite color: Blue.

G. Gold or silver: Ummm... can I have both?? ; )

H. Height: Just under 5'5"

I. Instruments you play(ed): Piano & alto saxophone.

J. Job title: Assistant Manager, Executive Communications

K. Kids: None living, one stillborn.

L. Live: near Toronto

M. Mom’s name: Donna

N. Nicknames: don't really have any (that I'm going to repeat, anyway, lol)

O. Overnight hospital stays: aside from when I lost Katie, several when I was in elementary school, for tests to monitor my bladder/ureter/kidney condition. Thankfully, I eventually outgrew it. After losing Katie, I learned there is a high co-relation between kidney problems & uterine abnormalities. I often wonder whether they could tell that I had a uterine malformation as a child.

P. Pet peeves: People who talk on their cellphones on public transit, in restaurants, etc., as if they're in their living room. :p

Q. Quote from a movie: Casablanca is probably my favourite movie of all time -- it has a fabulous script, chock full of memorable lines. Among my favourites:

Captain Renault: What in heaven's name brought you to Casablanca?
Rick: My health. I came to Casablanca for the waters.
Captain Renault: The waters? What waters? We're in the desert.
Rick: I was misinformed.

and

Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

R. Righty or lefty: Righty.

S. Siblings: Younger sister.

T. Time you wake up: 5 a.m. :p

U. Underwear: Yes??

V. Vegetables you don’t like: Mushrooms & peppers. I LOVE tomatos, but unfortunately can't eat them anymore. :(

W.What makes you run late: Underestimating the amount of time I will need.

X. X-rays you’ve had: pelvis, skull, teeth.

Y. Yummy food you make: cookies, although I don't make them often these days. And I am an excellent popcorn maker (following in my dad's footsteps...!). : )

Z. Zoo animal favorites: penguins! I also stood in line for an hour to see a pair of visiting panda bears once.

Now it is YOUR turn.... let me know if you do this one & I'll come visit!

Christmas will be different this year -- finally!

My Parents' Neighbours' Daughter (PND) is pregnant.

It hasn't even been a year since she got married. And I distinctly remember her saying, whenever babies were mentioned, that it would be awhile yet. She's currently got a contract job & has been hoping to parlay it into something permanent.

I don't know what happened in the interim to change her mind (if indeed it was a conscious decision). My mother thinks she succumbed to baby fever -- she's surrounded by friends who are all pregnant or new mothers, and became an aunt for the first time this past fall.

The phone rang on my mother's birthday, a Saturday night in January. It was my parents' phone number. I knew my sister & her boyfriend and PND & her husband were there to celebrate, & I figured my parents had called so that we could all chat.

Dh answered, & said, "Hi PND!" I saw his eyes get big & even before he said "Congratulations!" I knew. I instantly knew.

I felt tears in my eyes, but I got on the phone & said all the right things. And meant them.

I wasn't just emotional because PND is going to have a baby, & I'm not, ever.

I got emotional, because I could just imagine my parents' joy at having a new baby around to spoil. PND's parents now live some distance away, and although her inlaws are close by, my parents will no doubt get to play the role of honorary grandparents.

I was also emotional because I am old enough to be PND's mother (and this baby's grandmother) myself (gulp). I have proudly watched PND grow up from an adorable baby herself into a wonderful young woman and recent bride. And now I get to watch as she becomes a mother. The circle of life, etc. etc.

I was emotional because I find all pregnancies nervewracking these days. I know, more than anyone else, what can go wrong. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, let alone someone I adore as much as PND.

Dh asked me if I would prefer if PND had a boy. I think I surprised myself: "No way!" I said. "A little girl would be so much fun to spoil. It would be like watching PND grow up all over again." The prospect made me happy.

We were all sworn to secrecy until after PND's first prenatal appointment. Which is why I am writing this post now, several weeks after the fact. Even on an anonymous blog with pseudonyms, I feel compelled to keep a promise. ; )

Baby PND (PNGD or PNGS??) is due later this summer. Not sure whether to try to plan our usual summertime vacation around the due date. I know too well that babies have their own timetables. Otherwise, I'll probably have to wait until Christmas to see the new baby. That seems too long. :p

"Christmas will be different this year," PND said to me on the phone. PND has spent at least part of every Christmas with us since she was a toddler. Hopefully, that tradition will continue for awhile yet.

We've been looking forward to a "different" Christmas (i.e., one with a baby around) for a long, long time now.

It won't be my baby -- but I think it will be the next best thing. : ) I feel so fortunate to have had PND in our lives, and that she is sharing this blessing with our family.

Flashback

Recently at work, I got into an elevator. Two other women were already in there. My ears immediately pricked up as I heard one of them speaking in a muffled, guttural voice, combined with hand motions. She was obviously hearing impaired.

It was oddly familiar & comforting to me -- transporting me in a flash back to my grandparents' farm, 30. 40 years ago.

My dad is the youngest of four sons, & second-youngest child of six. Actually, seven. My uncle, his next oldest sibling, is about two years older -- and he had a twin sister. I don't know very much about her, except that her name was Olga. The aunt I never knew.

As I understand it, they both got very sick when they were still babies -- scarlet fever, I think. She died. My uncle survived, but lost most of his hearing. And because his speech had not fully developed yet, he was & is difficult to understand & to communicate with, particularly if you didn't spend a lot of time around him. (Add in the fact that my father & his sibilings didn't speak English until they went to school.) Family members communicated with him by speaking very loudly & slowly, with lots of gestures & exaggerated facial expressions. He would respond with nods, gestures and some words & sounds.

Needless to say, there wasn't much in the way of special education or speech therapy or accommodations available in rural Manitoba in the 1940s. Doctors recommended he be institutionalized. My grandmother would not hear of it, & kept him at home on the farm, where he lived until after my grandfather died, when Grandpa was 96 & my uncle in his 50s. He finally got a hearing aid in middle age.

It only just hit me now, when I started thinking about my uncle, and the aunt I never knew, and my grandmother's loss, that my father was her "rainbow baby," her subsequent pregnancy, two years later. (Her last child, my youngest aunt, arrived eight years later, when Baba had reached the advanced maternal age of 40.)

My mother says my dad spent a lot time with his mother growing up, helping her around the house. (He's a fabulous cook -- makes borscht using vegetables from his own garden.) Knowing what I know now about infant loss & subsequent pregnancies, I can see why she probably wanted to keep him close.

Baba died at the far-too-young age of 68, when I was 14. I blogged about her here, last year, 35 years after her death. I wish I had had more time with her. There is so much more I'd like to know about her. But I feel like I've begun to understand her a little better, these past 13 years.