What makes three women choose to do a year of unpaid work to bring a book to life? I talked to the editors of ‘OTHERHOOD - a soon-to-be-published book of essays about not having children by choice or through circumstance.
It’s an important day for Lil O’Brien, Kathryn van Beek and Alie Benge. The three women are successful authors, respected writers, and share another common thread - for various reasons, they don’t have children. And today, there’s a giddy excitement and nervousness as they bravely launch their boosted campaign for their book ‘OTHERHOOD.
Full disclosure, I’ve supported the idea of this book for a long time. When Creative New Zealand funding for it was sought, I jumped in with a letter of support. Other than that though, I’ve just been quietly hoping these brave wāhine can pull off this important project. We desperately need media that shows the breadth and depth of womens’ experiences in all facets of their lives, especially around deviations from the ‘norm’ of what is expected of us as women.
Over the time I was editor of The Spinoff Parents we tried to run essays on trying to become a parent (covering infertility, surrogacy, adoption) as well as choosing not to parent (being part of the childfree movement, being an aunty, abortion law reform).
These pieces were wildly popular and well-read not just in Aotearoa but internationally. There is an enormous desire to hear the voices of women and non-binary folks discuss being child-free or childless or simply to talk about living in the middle of wanting or not-wanting a child.
There is enormous shame and stigma still around women choosing not to become parents and very little support – emotionally and with birth control. There’s also little support for people who desperately want to be mothers but cannot be. A collection of essays around this topic is something I’ve never seen before in Aotearoa despite the need for it.
But, just because something is desperately needed, it doesn’t mean you’ll get funding from Creative New Zealand. Hence the Boosted campaign starting today - every cent goes to paying writers who have already committed essays to the book.
I was stoked that the editors of ‘OTHERHOOD agreed to chat on the eve of the Boosted campaign launch.
When did you decide to do ‘OTHERHOOD? Where did the idea come from?
Lil O’Brien: Back in around July 2022, Kate Camp tweeted her essay ‘No Miracle Baby to See Here’, which was published on The Spinoff. It was such a poignant, rollicking read about the dumb things people say to women who are trying – and often struggling – to have children. Each of us were gushing over it on the Twitter post, and pointing out how few stories there were out there about people who aren’t successful in having kids, or people who happily don’t want them.
Kathryn: Most infertility stories finish with a paragraph in which the writer reveals that they ended up having a miracle baby. As someone who didn’t have a miracle baby, after a while I got so annoyed reading these essays that I wrote my own story – one with a more complicated ending. Kate’s essay coming out at the same time made it feel as though more complex stories about ‘otherhood’ were in the zeitgeist.
Lil: One of us was like “We need to hear more stories about women who can’t have children, or don’t want to – all the ‘others’!” And somewhat naively, the three of us were like “Let’s do an anthology!” And so ‘OTHERHOOD was… born!
Alie: After that Twitter conversation I started thinking maybe I’d message Lil and see if she was actually serious about the anthology, but before I could, she emailed to say her and Kathryn had made an entire pitch document in one day and did I want to join in the fun.
So is that how you all came together? Maybe Twitter isn’t so shit after all.
Alie: Yes, from this Twitter interaction! We jumped into creating an anthology together but had never met before. We knew of each other through the small New Zealand writing scene of course. We’re just really lucky that it’s ended up being a dream team. We call ourselves ‘The Barrenesses’, have the funniest Whatsapp group chat, and we work so well together.
Lil: We didn’t actually meet in person until May this year, nine months or so into the project, because Kathryn lives in Dunedin, I live in Auckland and Alie is in London. Alie came home to promote her new book of essays Ithaca at the Auckland Writers Festival, and we all got together for dinner and to frantically film our Boosted crowdfunding video.
Can you tell me a little bit about your stories? Because they’re so varied.
Alie: I never really even thought about kids growing up. I don’t have nieces or nephews, my cousins all live far away. Kids just weren’t a part of my life. However, they were part of the life that gets mapped out for you, so when I thought about my future I saw kids as part of that. I guess as soon as I got to an age where I realised there was some time pressure, I realised how much I just couldn’t be arsed. Once I found myself able to imagine a different kind of life, there was really no question. When I met my partner we were very aligned on the things we wanted from our lives. We liked being able to move to London on a whim, or fly to Turkey for a long weekend with just a backpack. It’s not that we couldn’t do that with kids, but it’s a much bigger deal.
Lil: I spent a few years in New York around 2015-2017, and living there gave my wife at the time and me an opportunity we’d never have in New Zealand: to have access to dozens of sperm donors, available with the click of a few buttons, and about $5000 US dollars of course – that compares to the years-long waiting list here in Aotearoa. We spent a couple of years in and out of the American fertility industry and I was pregnant twice, but had a pretty traumatic loss at 18 weeks because of a rare version of an already rare condition called TRAP sequence. Ultimately my partner Beth and I split up – in a very amicable lesbian way – and the desire to have kids just left me. I realised it had almost become about ‘winning’ more than wanting a baby. I was happily rampaging around as a childfree woman when I met the lovely lady I’m now with, Tanya, who came with two kids aged nine and 13 at the time. So now I’m a ‘bonus mom’ to two teenagers.
Kathryn: I never really wanted kids, but that all changed when I met my husband. I knew he’d be a great dad. I had a feeling we’d need to do IVF, but I thought IVF would probably work for us. It worked in that I was able to become pregnant, but after going through three miscarriages we decided to cut our losses. I think our lives would have been great with or without kids. Without kids, we’re able to do a bit more travel. I’m currently doing the Hungarian Writers Residency with support from the Winston Churchill McNeish Fellowship, which wouldn’t be possible if I had small children.
Why is it so important for people to be able to tell their own stories instead of having others tell those stories for them?
Kathryn: Sharing your own story sends a flare out into the world that lets other people going through similar experiences know that they’re not alone. Not everyone feels confident putting their experiences into words, but everyone will find something to relate to in ‘OTHERHOOD. The idea of “otherhood” really touched a nerve with writers, and we received a deluge of incredibly varied stories. We just wish we had room for all of them in the book!
Lil: We’ve been so astounded by the range of experiences and perspectives that have come in as submissions – it’s a reminder that you absolutely cannot put people who don’t have children in a box, or think you know what someone else has been through. At the same time, we think readers will find great comfort in seeing representations of their experiences and feelings articulated by someone else. As Kathryn said, realising you’re not alone is a powerful thing.
Why do we need this book?
Lil: I only wish we could have this book but many times larger! These perspectives are so underrepresented in our society – but it’s a topic that touches nearly everyone, because we live in a pronatalist society. Even if you don’t have or want kids, you’ve had to come to that decision amidst a whole lot of narratives that prize and prioritise being a parent as the ultimate purpose of life.
Kathryn: Not being a mother can feel profoundly othering. Those of us without children are familiar with insensitive comments such as ‘Not having children is selfish’, or ‘Have you thought about adoption?’. Even the question ‘Do you have kids?’ can be hard to answer – what do you say if you’ve been bereaved, or if you’re going through fertility treatment, or if you’re having a miscarriage? ‘Otherhood will provide a sense of community for those of us who share a common experience that still feels taboo: not being a mother.
Alie: Also, the stories confront this idea that women are predisposed to want certain things – that we’re all just mothers in waiting. Or that it’s always as simple as a choice, and then bam. You have a baby. When that’s your view, of course it seems like a fine question to ask every woman you meet if they have kids. That question is a landmine for so many people.
And personally, I want to show that there are other ways to have a meaningful and fulfilling life. And better questions to ask about it!
Kathryn, I’ve long been a huge admirer of your beautiful writing. But a lot of people won’t know about the incredible mahi you’ve done in supporting people who have had miscarriages. Can you tell us a little about your work on the Holiday’s Act?
Kathryn: Everyone experiences miscarriage differently, but for a lot of us, it’s an experience of grief.
My first miscarriage was a ‘missed miscarriage’, which can mean you need to have a small operation. As I was reading the Holidays Act looking into options for taking time off from work, I noticed that miscarriage wasn’t considered a reason to take bereavement leave.
I contacted MBIE for clarification, and they told me that it’s up to the bereaved person to convince their employer that their baby is worth grieving. I thought that having a conversation like that would be the last thing that someone going through miscarriage would want to do.
I decided the Act needed to change, and I visited my MP Clare Curran with some proposed wording that would amend the Act. Clare listened to my story, and asked me to bring evidence of community support for the proposed changes to the Act. I did that through gathering personal testimonials and starting an online petition. List MP Ginny Andersen then picked up the cause.
Ginny drew up a members’ bill, submitted it to the infamous parliamentary biscuit tin, and warned me that it might never see the light of day – bills are drawn at random, and many are never selected at all. But in 2018, the Holidays (Bereavement Leave for Miscarriage) Amendment Bill was drawn out of the tin.
It took a while to go through the process, but in 2021 the Bill passed with cross-party support - making international headlines. Now pregnant people and their partners can get three days’ bereavement leave after a miscarriage.
For other people wanting to make positive change, I would recommend clearly identifying the problem, coming up with a possible solution, and then identifying the person who might be able to help you make it happen.
The ‘OTHERHOOD Boosted campaign begins today. It’s ambitious but I sincerely hope every cent and more is raised. Lil, Alie, and Kathryn are hoping to raise $15,000 to give each essayist $500 each for their contribution.
The three women have worked unpaid and tirelessly in creating this necessary and important book. It’s super brave and I support them 100% and I hope you will too.
“The money will go directly to a writer, simple as that. If we can raise more than $15k, we’ll be able to have launch events for ‘OTHERHOOD – or can maybe afford to slip an extra essay in there. We had three times as many submissions as we can afford to put in! And every single essay submission has had a valuable story to tell,” Lil says.
The campaign runs for a month until 27 July.
Oh I desperately want to read this book. I adore kids, but as a no-income-no-kids, lesbian, neurodiverse couple it just doesn't make sense for us.
I know I'd be an awesome mum and that our kids would be happy and loved. But I also know it takes all my energy just to look after myself, and it doesn't feel fair to me to sacrifice my own wellbeing for a person who doesn't even exist yet.
And tbh, if I was in a hetero relationship I'd probably have 'accidentally' gotten pregnant by now, so I'm grateful that I had to make a conscious decision.
But I'm a pretty damn epic aunty to all the kids in my life, and I get the grinning, squealing, tackle hugs I need.
I was part of the otherhood until 9ish years ago. Following the failure of my third relationship, thanks in part to the fallout from my second, I moved to a small town where the prospects of me finding an Other Half were, shall we say, slim. And there I stayed from the age of 28 to 36. It was looking very like that was it for me. I wonder if there is space in the book for women who just didn't find the right person in time, and didn't want to do it alone.