"Otherhood" by Melanie Notkin

Melanie Notkin, founder of Savvy Auntie, has a marketer's knack for identifying and catering to a neglected market segment -- in this case, the growing number of women who don't currently and may never have children -- and coining catchy new terms to describe them/us -- including "PANK (Professional Aunt, No Kids)" and "circumstantial infertility."

Now Notkin has coined another catchy new term for those of us who are not moms. If you're a PANK, and not experiencing motherhood, you're part of the "Otherhood."

"Otherhood" is also the name of Notkin's new book. In her own words:

"We have gone without definition or visibility for too long. I am offering "Otherhood" as a name for our misunderstood group of women doing our best to live full and meaningful lives despite the frustrations of some of our most cherished longings. We, the Otherhood, who have yet to find our rightful, equitable, requisite place in society, deserve one....  

"Otherhood uncovers, explores, and examines this overlooked and misunderstood segment of contemporary women. Part anecdotal storytelling, part inspiration, part reportage and part manifesto, Otherhood sets out to get to the heart of the issues, enliven the societal consciousness, and trigger conversation in and around our tribe."

(Ironically, I found this book in the bookstore on a shelf along with "The Mom Shift" by Reva Seth and "French Parents Don't Give In" by Pamela Druckerman. ;)  )

I really wanted to like this book. I was predisposed to like it. After all, I'm part of the Otherhood.  It's a subject near & dear to my heart. And overall, it's a good book that makes some important points.

But I have a few reservations.

First: Notkin uses composite characters throughout her book -- "women and men whose identifying characteristics have been modified or blended with others to protect their privacy" (with the exception of the experts quoted). Some experiences and events have also been modified, compressed or out of chronological order. Notkin is, at least, upfront about her use of this literary device -- there's a note about it at the very start of the book. Even so, perhaps it's the journalist in me, but this does tend to make me a little uneasy.

Second, while Notkin's description of the Otherhood is inclusive of all childless women, and the book's introduction talks about the rise of childless women generally, the book is primarily directed to Notkin's own particular segment of the Otherhood -- women like herself, who are not just childless but childless because they are single and looking for love and marriage before motherhood (even if that means they never become a mother at all). If you're single, childless and hoping to be a mother, this is definitely the book for you. If you're married, some of the content might not be quite as compelling. 

That said, the final third or so of the book does move beyond the problem of finding a man to procreate with and delve into other reasons why women might find themselves childless as they enter their 40s. 

Third, the book isn't just heavily focused on single women, but on a very particular subset of them. As Publishers Weekly noted in its otherwise positive review: "the affluent Manhattan-centricity of the author's cohort may alienate less-privileged readers."  Even though Notkin laments that "'Sex and the City' remains the dominant pop cultural portrait of our supposed lifestyle," many chapters of the book read like... episodes of "Sex and the City," revolving around Melanie and her 40-something single friends -- who invariably have fabulously glamorous-sounding careers (there's Wynn, a fashion PR executive;  Rachel, a beauty industry executive; Stephanie, founder and CEO of an advertising agency;  Meredith, an Ivy League-educated attorney... you get the idea...) -- meeting at a lengthy list of chic Manhattan bars and restaurants (the book could also double as a NYC bar & restaurant guide) to sip cocktails, eat brunch, and talk about the men they've met and why they won't take responsibility for planning a single date, nevermind committing to a serious relationship.

I suppose she is just following that old piece of writerly advice, "Write about what you know" -- but the Otherhood isn't just a neighbourhood in Manhattan. It might have been nice if she had gone slightly outside of her comfort zone and made an effort to talk to childless women elsewhere in the U.S. (and in the world, for that matter) -- maybe in some smaller cities or even rural communities, where the pool of eligible men is a lot smaller. Maybe a few more secretaries, teachers, human resources managers, accountants, retail clerks...

With these caveats aside -- the book is worth a read. While some of the content is narrow in focus, it covers the issues facing single women who want to be mothers quite thoroughly. The introduction sets the stage well, outlining the reasons why so many 40-something women today find themselves without the children they wanted, and the final few chapters move beyond discussions of finding a partner to other issues such as infertility, egg freezing, single motherhood and dealing with partners who are reluctant to have children, or more children (as is often the case with men on their second or third marriages). 

With women like me, Notkin is obviously preaching to the choir. Hopefully her message will reach outside the Otherhood and provide some food for thought.

If you read "Otherhood," I'd be curious to hear what you thought of it!

This is book #3 that I have read in 2014 to date.

Article: "The no-baby boom"

This week's issue of Macleans, Canada's national newsmagazine, features a story called "The no-baby boom" by Anne Kingston -- illustrated with a large photo of everyone's favourite "will she or won't she (procreate)" poster girl (or, as the article dubs her, "the mother of all non-mothers"), Jennifer Aniston.

Macleans has run previous articles on pregnancy loss and childfree living that set my teeth on edge. This time, though, I think they've (finally!!) got it right.

Recent mainstream media articles on childfree living have tended to focus on the childfree by choice (case in point: the infamous Time magazine cover story from last summer). The Macleans article actually shines the spotlight (for once!!) on those of us who are childless/free-not-by-choice. It also talks about the often-neglected matter of "social infertility" or "circumstantial infertility/" (I don't particularly like the term -- I think it's hard enough to get people to take true medical infertility seriously as a problem without muddying the waters.  But I do agree single women who want to be married and have children are a segment of the childless/free world that tends to be ignored or left out in the kids/no kids discussion.)

For the most part, I think our stories have been presented thoughtfully and with respect. Maybe that's because the author has consulted and quoted some of the leading spokeswomen of our community -- including Jody Day of Gateway Women, Melanie Notkin (the Canadian-born founder of Savvy Auntie), and Lisa Manterfield of Life Without Baby, as well as francophone blogger Catherine-Emmanuelle Delisle of Femme Sans Enfant. She also mentions bloggers Pamela Tsigdinos & Tracey Cleantis.

Topics covered include:

• The lack of positive role models for childless women.
• There are many reasons why women might end up without children.
• Childless women are a large and growing segment of the population.
• The impact of "social infertility."
• PANKs (Professional Aunts, No Kids) and their growing economic clout.
• Some choices (to become a solo mother, freeze your eggs, rely on IVF, etc.) aren't true choices and are more complex than most people realize.
• Discussion about childlessness is framed in terms of personal choice, failure and medical infertility, as well as cultural narratives of motherhood and womanhood, which tends to shut down conversation.
• Women outside the maternal matrix are suspect, a threat to the status quo.
• Things are changing and childless women are becoming increasingly vocal.
• Rising childlessness and the fetishization of motherhood are linked, and the result of fundamental societal shifts. New models are required and being shaped.

Read it and let me know what you think!

My life & Middlemarch

I was introduced to "Middlemarch" by George Eliot nearly 35 years ago, by my favourite English prof. I had never heard of it before, but he told us it was his all-time favourite book, and quite possibly (he thought) the greatest novel ever written in the English language.  His own well-worn copy had underlining and margin notes in several different colours -- a different colour for each time he had read it (and this was not his first copy).  It was a huge thick book, slow moving, but I ultimately did enjoy it.

I hadn't thought much about "Middlemarch" until just recently. Rebecca Mead has written a book called "My Life in Middlemarch," about the novel and her own experiences reading it. I've read several reviews (mostly good) & articles about the book. And then in today's Globe & Mail, this interview with her. I was particularly struck by these two paragraphs at the end:

Through her examination of the hold Middlemarch has over her, Mead – who has three children, including two step-children – reconciled her own feelings about ambition and the idea that it can, indeed, be too late to be the person you thought you might be. When she started the research, she was in her early 40s, in that uncomfortable place of new middle-age, realizing that doors of opportunity were closing. 

But now, she is more hopeful about the happiness and satisfaction that lie ahead. Middlemarch attaches more beauty and romance to the accomplishment of enduring love rather than to the follies of young love, even though that’s what preoccupies many. “Whether we are married or have kids or not, most of what we do is humble and small, and yet it has a kind of incredible grandeur,” Mead says, offering a quote that Eliot herself might have spoken.

So I haven't read the book (yet) -- but those last two paragraphs have got me thinking. Is it too late to be the person I want to be? It's definitely too late for me to be a mother. Yes, I know there are those who would argue that it's never too late, if I just persevere and never give up and spend enough money, somehow, somewhere, some way, I could be a mother... 

Well, call me a pessimist or a quitter (I wouldn't, but that's your prerogative) -- but I think it's true that, as we age, we start to come to terms with the fact that we're just not going to get to do everything we ever wanted to do or thought we would do. There are some doors of opportunity that are indeed closing -- and, once closed, will never open again (or will only be pried open with great difficulty and at great cost).  Our time, money, patience and other resources are limited, and that becomes more & more evident the older we get.  It's up to us to decide how we want to spend those resources, where our priorities are -- and those priorities often change as we age & evolve.  I am not entirely the same person I was when I first read read "Middlemarch" in my early 20s -- or when I was 37 and pregnant with Katie. or 40, when I decided I had to stop infertility treatments for the sake of my sanity. And I'll probably have changed again, in big or small ways, by the time I'm 60 or 75 or older.

That said, while it may be too late to be the person you once wanted to be, it's never too late to try to be a better person, to strive for something better. We might never reach that goal, but isn't the fun in the trying? The journey, vs the destination?

Our lives may not be the ones we pictured for ourselves when we were younger... but yes, there can be happiness and satisfaction and even grandeur sometimes (and I love that she mentioned "whether we have kids or not" -- it was probably that one line that provided the spark for this blog post). 

Thoughts? Anyone else read "Middlemarch," Mead's book, or both?

I have to admit, I went out & bought a copy of Mead's book (I have "Middlemarch" on my e-reader, and put it on my to-(re)read list). I don't often re-read books these days, but I might have to make an exception here. I'll let you know if/when I get around to reading either or both. ;) 

"It's like I'm my own shrink"

The other night, I watched an interview that George Stromboulopoulos -- the CBC television star we memorably encountered at LaGuardia last fall, en route home to Toronto from our whirlwind chicks' weekend in New York City -- recently did with Randy Bachman, classic rock guitarist extraordinaire for both the Guess Who and Bachman-Turner Overdrive -- and, I might add proudly, a fellow Manitoban :)  (albeit now living on Saltspring Island in British Columbia).  Bachman hosts a weekly radio program on CBC radio called Vinyl Tap, where he plays classic rock records and tells stories about the people behind them. He's written a memoir & a collection of stories from his show, and was on Strombo to promote a second story collection, Tales From Beyond the Tap.

The entire half hour is worth a listen if you're a fan of Bachman or his bands, or classic Canadian rock, or just classic rock generally. The man is a great storyteller, and he has some wonderful stories to tell and observations to make, about a lot of names you will recognize, Canadian & otherwise.

But if anything, just listen to the first five minutes. As a blogger (and before that, someone poured her heart out on various online forums -- and who attended and then facilitated a support group for 10 years, where we encouraged members to tell their stories every time they attended as a way of healing), I was fascinated by both George & Randy's observations about the cathartic and healing power of storytelling, and the new perspective you can gain by doing so -- so much so that I went back & transcribed their conversation, starting around the 2:10 mark [emphasis mine]:   

George: You're in an interesting place now, because you spend much of your time telling stories of stuff that's happened to your or experiences you've had...so you're really living in this... you're not living in the past, you're reliving your own history, and I wonder what you think the impact is on you?  

Randy: (pause) Umm... it's cathartic... it's like I'm my own shrink! (laughs) These are my shrinks (gestures to the audience) -- every Saturday, Sunday, I talk to them,  and I tell them when I met certain people and huge, fun, great things that happened, and also some disappointments that happened. So it is cathartic -- I found in doing this book and the previous book, I felt compelled ... I was sleepless at nights, because when you relive a story and when you write it down, it's quite different than telling it... and a lot of (word?) will say "Write it down, you've got to write down what happened." And I found myself calling a lot of people -- and apologizing for what I did...  

George: ...that's interesting!  

Randy: ...10, 20, 30 years ago, that I didn't realize their side of it. And then I read it in their book. Hopefully they read it in my book. Because when there's this thing and you break up with a girl or a guy or a band or a team or your family, you leave home, you don't really know what they're saying, and they don't know what you're saying after you leave. And you don't know what brought you there, even.  

George: And you don't know what they're feeling on any level.  

Randy:  No...

What do you think? Is telling your story -- through blogging, or otherwise -- cathartic? Is it like being your own shrink??

Miscellaneous mid-March odds & ends

• (I have a thing for alliteration, lol.)
• (I guess it's not QUITE mid-March... but almost...)
• March started off somewhat sadly. Within the same week, two dear friends -- one from my junior/senior high school days and one a longtime online friend -- each lost one of their parents. A reminder that our time here together is precious, and that none of us are getting any younger. :( 
• March also started off more or less like a lion. Maybe not so much in terms of storminess (although we did get more snow that first weekend), but very cold (again)(at least -- bowing to my friends & relatives on the Prairies -- cold for southern Ontario).  This has been a very long, very cold and very snowy winter -- one of the coldest & snowiest in many years.  Even dh -- who hates the summer heat & humidity, & is generally "Mr. I Love Winter" -- is thoroughly sick of it and ready for spring.
• MORE changes have been announced at work. (And possibly more to come, including ones that might affect me & my job directly.) I just try to keep my head down and do my work as best I can.  23 months... 23 months...
• Next week is spring break here in Ontario. I think a lot of local schools were already off on Friday, though, because there were already scads of parents & kids wandering around downtown and at the train station that afternoon. This will continue throughout the next week. :p
• I can tell I am doing much better with childlessness than I used to. At one time, just walking past a Baby Gap store would bring tears to my eyes. These days, I am there (or The Children's Place, or Gymboree) just about every week, looking for good deals on cute outfits that I can buy & send to the Princess (and soon, her little sister or brother). Tonight, at the bookstore, I was looking at children's Easter-themed books for her.  It is fun to have a little one in my life to spoil -- and to be able to enjoy doing it.
• I will admit that every now & then, I do get a pang of wistfulness. Especially when I see a really cute little dress. I don't know why the dresses in particular affect me, but they do. :(  (Maybe (in part) because the Princess rarely wears dresses, lol -- I have yet to buy her a dress, because I know it will MAYBE get worn once before she grows out of it.) But it happens far less frequently these days, and is far less painful. Progress!!
• I picked up & started "Otherhood" by Melanie Notkin of Savvy Auntie this week. I'm currently juggling a couple of books (along with newspapers & magazines -- not to mention blogs, lol) but I will let you know what I think of it when I'm done.

"Infertility: The longest journey"

I recently stumbled upon this article, a first-person account from the Hamilton Spectator published in January.  It's actually an abridged version of a longer article that ran in the United Church Observer.

There was much here that I could relate to, and I thought the story was well told, with some sharp insights into infertility and why it is such a painful experience. I also appreciated the author's willingness to discuss the possibility that her story wouldn't end happily. Sample quotes:

...infertile women and men do have a story to tell, one that's important to share in our baby-obsessed culture. And it doesn't always have a happy ending. 

(Spoiler alert: Hers does.)  

I genuinely tried to envision a meaningful life without children. I would become a radical environmental activist. I’d move to New York City. I’d travel. I’d throw myself into my career and work my way to the top of a major magazine. I’d move to Africa and work for a good cause.  

Was there a niche in this world where few people would have children, want them or even talk about them? I could imagine only one: the adult film industry. Unfortunately, I’m woefully underqualified.

(OK, I've never heard THAT one before...!)

And, towards the end (added emphasis mine):

At a recent retirement party for one of the nurse practitioners at his Hamilton office, Dr. Stopps — who has worked with thousands of prospective parents over the past 38 years and knows pretty much everything there is to know about infertility — admitted to me that the one thing he doesn’t understand is the persistence. Why do people keep trying? Why do they put themselves through so much?

My answer: It’s more than wanting a baby. It’s wanting to fit in, wanting to graduate through the stages of life, wanting to fulfil the dreams of marriage and family, wanting some piece of yourself to remain after your death. It’s also about being caught up in the medical regimen — remembering to take your medication, give yourself an injection, drink your tea, chart your temperature, make an appointment. It’s the buildup, the effort, the letdown. It’s the biological time bomb ticking away, threatening to blow up the entire plan, hammering its steely message into your head: you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. It’s holding on to the hope that maybe if you persist, maybe you still can. 

The stigma of infertility is still with me. I am haunted by what would have happened if our third IVF had failed. And although we have a baby, as a couple, we are still infertile. But I think the experience has also deepened my compassion for others who feel isolated, set apart from the course of “normal” life, unsure how to get back on track. Divorce, illness, depression, addiction, death of a loved one — infertility is a snap compared to some of these challenges. But in my own way, now I get it.

This has been my experience too. Thank you, Jocelyn Bell.

Welcome to our world, guys...

While infertility, male or female, is no joking matter, I have to admit I got a chuckle out of Elizabeth Renzetti's column in today's Globe & Mail, which starts with reports about how male fertility, too, declines with age, and then continues:

Imagine a world in which it’s no longer women who are reminded at every family gathering that biology’s Big Ben is sounding just for them. Hey men – you, too, can join in the fun as society keeps a close watch on your gonads, and asks when, exactly, you plan to use them.

And then Renzetti does imagine that world, to amusing effect. (I got a particular laugh out of the point about George Clooney & Ryan Gosling.) Have a read.