Year: 2015

Easter goodies for childless readers

Sue Fagalde Lick adoption, childfree-by-choice, childless, Easter basket, marrying someone who doesn't want kids, Selfish Shallow Self-Absorbed, The Road Less Travelled, when men want kids and women don't
Today, still overwhelmed and under-inspired, I’m offering you an Easter basket full of links and thoughts.
“The A Word: Why We Didn’t Adopt” by Loribeth at The Road Less Travelled. It’s something people don’t talk much about. I haven’t really addressed it here, but this long post will fill that gap.
Loribeth at The Road Less Traveled talks about the new book Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids. I have not read it yet, but I’m planning to. Apparently, it leans hard to the childfree-by-choice side, but maybe we can identify with some of it, and there’s a lot of wisdom in Loribeth’s review.
“When Men Want Kids and Women Aren’t So Sure” Usually it seems to be the other way around. This New York Magazine piece looks at young women who aren’t so ready to join the mom club. Check out the comments, too, almost 200 of them at this point. It’s just a hard thing to figure out, isn’t it?
I hope you enjoy these links and follow them wherever they take you.

Question:

If you were advising a young person in your life who was considering a permanent relationship with someone who doesn’t want to have children, what would you tell them? Forget about your own situation for a minute. What would you tell this nephew, daughter, or friend whom you love?

Happy Easter to one and all. Don’t forget that it’s about more than a bunny who lays chocolate eggs.

Childless readers, I need some inspiration

Sue Fagalde Lick caregiving, Central oregon coast, childfree, childless, childless news, guest posts, Kennel Cough, Pope and childlessness, spell caster, surrounded by babies, tourists


Dear readers,
I know I’m late with this week’s post, but I’m coming up empty. Usually by the time I set fingers to keys on Wednesday morning, something has begun to form in my mind, but right now, Thursday evening, I’ve got nothing. I can tell you a few things:
1) It’s spring break here on the central Oregon coast, and the place is swarming with tourists, half of whom seem to be either babies, young children, or pregnant women. I mean, everywhere I look. It’s bumming me out. Most of the time, I don’t see that many kids or pregnant people because the population is so heavily slanted toward the over-60 crowd, but wow, they’re all over my world this week. Kids, parents, grandmas and grandpas in my face every time I leave the house.
2) I seem to be doing a lot of caregiving lately. No, my dad is fine, but a good friend had heart surgery last week, so I’m back to sitting beside a hospital bed. Also, my elderly neighbor needed someone to sit with her husband, who is suffering some serious mental and physical problems after his heart surgery turned out badly, so I hung out at their house. And now, my dear dog has Kennel Cough/aka Bordatella. Every time she starts coughing, my heart stops. The drugs seem to be working, but all of my mom cells are engaged in taking care of her. And yes, she did get vaccinated.
3) The childless news is full of the usual stuff: somebody’s leaving their fortune to their pet monkey, the Pope says childless couples are selfish and sad, pollsters are predicting a lot more seniors living alone in the future because fewer people are having children. The childfree crowd is still claiming you don’t need children to be happy. And I keep getting comments from people who claim a spellcaster has solved all their problems and now they’re happily married with children.
Help me out, you guys, send me some ideas. I might even accept a guest post or two. Let’s keep the conversation going.

What if the man has had a vasectomy?

Sue Fagalde Lick men who already have children, men who don't want babies, pregnancy after vasectomy, second marriages, vasectomy, vasectomy reversal

I keep receiving comments lately from women whose male partnerns have had vasectomies–surgery to prevent them from producing sperm. A vasectomy is intended to be permanent birth control. But people don’t always see it as permanent. The guy can just have surgery to reverse it. Right?

It’s not that simple, my friends. Here’s why.

1) If a man has had a vasectomy, at some point he was sure enough that he didn’t want any children–or any more–that he was willing to have surgery to make it permanent. That’s pretty darned sure. Maybe, as in my husband Fred’s situation, he had no idea that his first marriage would end and along would come a younger wife still wanting babies. In our case, we talked about having the surgery reversed, but Fred finally admitted he really didn’t want to start over with another baby. If I had had older kids, it would have been okay with him, but he found the whole baby and toddler thing exhausting and didn’t want to do it again when he was pushing 50. Your man may be younger and more interested in having children, but never forget that at some point, he was sure he didn’t want to get anyone pregnant.

2) Reversal doesn’t always work. The surgery to reverse the vasectomy is much more complicated than the original vasectomy surgery, and it’s not always successful. There may be blockages or the man may have developed antibodies to his own sperm. The longer it has been since the vasectomy, the worse the odds. If it has been less than three years, chances of getting pregnant are better than 50 percent, but after 10 years, only about 30 percent result in pregnancy.

3) It costs a lot of money, estimated $5,000-$15,000, and most insurance companies consider it an elective procedure which they don’t cover.

I hate to bring more grief to people who are already suffering over the possibility of not having children, but we need to face reality. When you hook up with a man who has had a vasectomy, he is infertile and he may or may not be willing or able to change that. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. People do have the surgery and make babies. Talk to your doctor if you’re thinking about it.

You can find more information about vasectomy reversals at these websites.

http://www.vasectomy.com/vasectomy-reversal/faq/vasectomy-reversal-success-rates-will-it-work

http://www.webmd.com/infertility-and-reproduction/vasectomy-reversal-vasovasostomy

https://www.vasectomy.com/vasectomy/faq/is-a-vasectomy-reversible
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Where have all the grandmas gone?

Sue Fagalde Lick AARP, being with the grandkids, birthday alone, church choir, grandchildren, grandma club, motherhood delayed, women without grandchildren


Last Sunday, I had one singer in my church choir for the early Mass. Everyone else had gone out of town to be with grandchildren. Cathy and I, not mothers or grandmothers, stayed behind. This is not unusual. Most of our singers are over 60, and most of them are grandparents. Although they like to sing and are devoted to the church, when it’s a choice between the baby and the music, the baby wins every time.
I can’t blame them. If my life were different, if I had children and grandchildren, I’d want to be with them, too. I might live somewhere else to be near them, and I might not have this choir director job that keeps me busy every weekend. I’d be busy with the kids. Or maybe not. Some families don’t get along, don’t live close to each other, don’t find time to be in each other’s lives.
I definitely see the charm of these new little people and feel left out sometimes. Monday was my birthday. I spent it alone. It was not terrible. I drove out of town, did some shopping, had an expensive lunch overlooking the ocean, sat on the beach, and hiked in a wildlife preserve. I got lots of calls and texts wishing me Happy Birthday. But if there were children or grandchildren, maybe I’d have been one of those moms at the restaurant surrounded by their family. I’d be the matriarch looking at the ever-growing dynasty that began with me and my husband: the children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, their spouses and their in-laws. Heck, maybe we’d need a whole banquet room. But then I wouldn’t have been able to sit on the beach, write, take pictures and relax. Or enjoy my crab-stuffed salmon in peace. So don’t feel sorry for me.
You who are reading this are probably younger than me, so things may be different when you’re in your 60s. A recent AARP article gave statistics for what they see as “the new grandmothers.” They say 47 is the average age of the first-time grandparent and 62 percent are still working. Those numbers are bound to change with the next generation as they did for the one before me. My mother and my grandmother quit working paid jobs in their early 20s when they got pregnant with their first children. Honestly, at my age they were a lot older. They would never run off on their own like I did.
Today many women don’t get pregnant until their late 30s or early 40s, so they’ll be much older if/when the grandchildren come. A higher percentage will be still working. And at least a fifth, possibly a quarter, of today’s young women are not having children, so fewer of them will be running off to hang out with the grandkids. People without children will feel less left out because they’ll have plenty of company.
Cathy and I, the non-moms, rocked those songs at church. One of the fussiest people in our parish sent me a note saying the music was just beautiful on Sunday. So there.

Can you love a man with too many X chromosomes?

Sue Fagalde Lick delayed puberty, extra X chromosome, genetic mutations, infertile men, Klinefelter support group, Klinefelter Syndrome, Living with My X, marrying infertile man, Stephen Malherbe, testosterone
Have you ever heard of Klinefelter Syndrome? Neither had I until last week. It’s relevant here because men who have it are usually sterile.
Klinefelter occurs when a male baby is born with an extra X chromosome, sometimes more than one. Usually males have one X and one Y. Females have two X’s. That extra X wreaks havoc with the boy’s system. The sexual characteristics that usually come with puberty come late, if at all. They have small testicles, sometimes grow breasts, sometimes have higher voices and don’t grow facial hair. They may seem more feminine than other boys. There are other aspects of the syndrome, such as emotional and cognitive delays, personality problems, weak muscles and a tendency to develop osteoporosis and bad teeth. The symptoms can be treated to a certain extent with high doses of testosterone, but hormone treatment does not restore the ability to produce sperm.
I recently read a book called Living with My X, written by Stephen Malherbe, a South African man who has Klinefelter Syndrome. Well into his teens, he still looked and sounded like a little boy and didn’t know why. After he got the diagnosis and was treated with testosterone, he grew to normal size and went through a late puberty, but his problems were not over. Malherbe has been married and has had many relationships with women. Most of those relationships failed, partly because he had trouble communicating and partly because sooner or later he had to tell the women he was infertile. The first woman he told was his fiancée a couple weeks before the wedding. He shouldn’t have waited that long, of course, but how do you say something like that? They went ahead with the wedding, but the marriage didn’t last long. Neither did his second marriage.

Most of the women he told about his problem said it was all right. They could adopt children. But sometimes they realized that wasn’t going to be enough. Sometimes his personality got to them. He was always leaping into new schemes, unable to sit still. He has also suffered a variety of physical problems stemming from his Klinefelter Syndrome. In later years, he has found someone to love, but Klinefelter continues to affect his life.

Klinefelter Syndrome and other genetic variations can manifest themselves in various ways. They do not always cause infertility, but KS usually does.

Here’s a shocker. Approximately one in 500 male babies is born with one or more extra X chromosomes. The degree to which it affects them varies. Some have no idea until they want to have children and discover they’re infertile. What if a woman falls in love with such a man? What if he can’t give you children but he’s the sweetest person you have ever met? What if you don’t find out until you’ve been married for a few years?
There are a lot of reasons people don’t have children. This is one most folks don’t know anything about. You can find more information at the Klinefelter Syndrome support site.
Have you ever known anyone with Klinefelter Syndrome? I’d love to hear your comments about this.

Monkey children, fantasy Sundays, mean questions—It’s a crazy world

Sue Fagalde Lick childless, childless humor, leaving money to monkey, Scary Mommy, Sundays with children, Sundays without children, things not to say to childless friends


Dear friends,
Today, I’m sharing links to a series of articles that I think you’ll find entertaining.
1.“Childless couple in India reveal plans to leave all of their money to their pet monkey”
2. “The Childless Sunday vs. the Mom Sunday”
Okay, these Sundays are both fantasies. I may not have kids, but I have never had a Sunday like the one described, and kids or not, nobody does that much laundry. Read it for fun.
3. “Ten mean things not to say to couples who have no kids”
If you’re not Christian, skip the early paragraphs and go right to the list. I’m guessing you can identify with these.
Hang in there, my friends. And somebody send me some comments that are not spam.

What’s the big deal about childlessness?

Sue Fagalde Lick childfree, childless grief, childlessness, choosing not to reproduce, leaving no one behind, legacy, need to reproduce, people who don't understand childless


What is it that makes people feel bad about not having children? That’s what the young man interviewing me over the phone yesterday wanted to know. I struggled to find an answer that he would understand. It became very clear that men and women have different ideas about this stuff, especially when they come from different generations. His questions showed he really didn’t get it.
Is it that everybody else is doing it? Are we looking for a sense of accomplishment? Do we want to leave something behind? Does it help to be around other people’s children?
Well, I could answer that last one. No. When you are hurting over your own lack of children, it does not help to be surrounded by everybody else’s. It just makes you more aware of what you’re missing. I don’t think he understood that either.
I tried to explain that it’s all of the above and more, that we’re missing a major life experience, that we have no younger generation to replace the old ones who are dying, that we have no one to inherit our keepsakes, and that for some people children are their only legacy, but none of that was really getting to the heart of it.
Why does it hurt so bad to realize we may never have children? Is it a deep-down physical need to reproduce? After all, every living thing on earth is designed to reproduce. Some can’t for various physical reasons, but reproduction is the plan. Humans are the only ones who can say, “No, we’d rather not,” the only ones who mate and don’t procreate. So maybe it’s just a basic biological need. But then why don’t some people feel that need?
Almost a quarter of women are not having children these days, and a lot of them don’t feel bad about it. They choose to be childless, preferring the unfettered life. Why do the rest of us grieve the loss of the children we might have had?
The young man segued into a discussion of social media and wouldn’t I like my blogs to be reposted in perpetuity if some company offered that service. No, I don’t think so, and was he actually scamming me to sell a product? I don’t know. But his questions about childlessness linger. What’s the big deal? Why do we feel so bad?
What do you think? Help me find answers? Why do you feel bad about not having children? Please share in the comments.

Writers tackle misunderstandings between those with and without children

Sue Fagalde Lick articles about childlessness, Dear Abby, Empty Carriage Way of Life, Marion L. Thomas, nosy questions, parents vs. non-parents, why don't you have children


Dear readers, I’m feeling a little brain-dead today, so I’m sharing these links to articles about being childless.
In this BBC piece, the writer discusses how hard it is for parents and non-parents to understand each other sometimes. “A Point of View: Can Parents and Non-parents Ever Understand Each Other?”
Then Dear Abby tackles those stupid nosy questions people are always asking us. You know the kind: Why don’t you have children? Don’t you like kids? Why don’t you adopt? Etc. Dear Abby: Nosy Questions Hurt Childless Woman
And finally, if we can laugh about this, we’re on our way to healing. Marion L. Thomas’s new book Living the Empty Carriage Way of Life will have you nodding your head, saying, “Yes, yes, that’s how it is.”
“Childless by Choice: The Evolution of the Empty Carriage Woman”
Happy reading.
Please keep commenting—unless you’re one of the dozens who write about spell casters and magical potions. I will continue deleting your comments as the spam that they are.

Children may help in old age, but it takes more than that

Sue Fagalde Lick alone in old age, asking for help, dementia, elderly neighbors, grown children helping, long-term care insurance, neighbors helping each other, walking Annie, wives of dementia patients

When I walk with Annie down Cedar Street, the road that runs behind my house, I look to see what’s happening at Bob and Shirley’s place. My elderly neighbors have had a hard time lately. About a year and a half ago, Bob had heart surgery. Something went wrong and his brain was damaged. My father, who had similar surgery about the same time, recovered quickly, but Bob just kept going downhill, deep into dementia. Before Christmas, Shirley stopped in her car to tell me she was putting him in a nursing home. I cried the rest of our walk, remembering all too well how it was with my husband, who had Alzheimer’s and died in 2011.

I was surprised yesterday to see Bob standing in the driveway. Annie, ever happy to visit people, needed no encouragement to go see him. But Bob, once a brilliant scientist, could no longer speak well or respond to anything I said. His words were all jumbled up and didn’t make much sense. He kept saying something about a “ride.” He wanted me to “ask Shirley.” He kept insisting, so I went to the door to talk to Shirley.

Shirley was near tears. The cost of residential care plus the pain of being separated had led her to bring him home a few days ago, but he was getting worse every day. He had been out in the driveway for hours and refused to come in. He kept staring at the next door neighbor’s house, waiting for something, it was hard to tell what. You could tell she was exhausted and ready to fall apart.

But she had help. Their two grown daughters visited often, offering practical and emotional assistance. How I wished I’d had that when Fred was sick. His children mostly stayed away. People keep telling me you can’t count on your children to be there when you need help. It’s true, but oh when they are, what a blessing. I’m grateful that Shirley has that.

But her kids aren’t all she has. As we talked on her doorstep, she was expecting her church pastor any minute. The neighbor across the street was coming over soon. And she had hired the same home care agency I used with Fred to give her a few hours off three days a week. It does take a village, not only to raise a child but to care for people who are desperately ill.

The thing is, that village will not be there unless you make the connections. I admit I’m not good at this. When I sprained my ankle in December, I struggled to take care of myself, hopping around on crutches, sometimes crawling, occasionally falling. True I lack husband or children, but I have friends. I’m just not good at asking for help. I need to work on that skill. As do you. Bob and Shirley, married 60 years, have wonderful children and grandchildren, but they also bought long-term care insurance, made connections with friends and neighbors, and hired a home-care agency. The kids were just one part of the equation.

We all wonder what will happen when we get old. What are your thoughts on not having grown children to help you in old age?

Please, if you’re into praying, include Bob and Shirley and all the other couples struggling with dementia.

TMI? How Much Should We Tell People?

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, nosy questions, telling people why you don't have children, too much information, why don't you have children


A male friend of mine is reading my Childless by Marriage book. Once planning to be a priest, he has never married or had children. He’s still very religious, and I expected him to be shocked. I mean, the man is shocked when I say something as innocuous as “That sucks,” and he won’t watch movies with cursing or sex in them.
The early chapters of the book are quite open about my sex life, about losing my virginity to my future husband, my experiences with birth control, and my post-divorce experiences with other men. Maybe, after reading all that, he would not want to be my friend anymore. So, the next time we talked after he started reading it, I held my breath.
“Well,” he said the first day, “You’ve had quite a lot of experiences, haven’t you?” Um, yes. “I can’t believe how open you are.” I guess. “You’ve been through so much.” It’s just life.
I told him I was worried about him not liking me anymore, but he said, “Nothing you could do would change how I feel about you.” Now that’s a friend.
The second day, he talked about feeling left behind. He didn’t become a priest because he wanted to marry and have children, but he never found the right person, “the one who rang my bell.” Now, in his 60s, facing open heart surgery in the near future, he knows he can never get those years back.
That “wasted years” feeling is one many of us share. What did we do with those years when we might have been with someone we loved and/or with those years when we might have been raising children? What do we tell people when they ask, “Why?”
Do we give them all the gory details about infertility, birth control, miscarriages and misgivings? Do we talk about how our partners don’t want kids—or we don’t, how the stepchildren have messed up our own chances, how we fear passing on mental illness, addictions and other problems, or how we just don’t have enough money? What do we say? How much should say?
In casual conversation, I usually just tell people, “God had other plans for me.” I believe that, but there’s so much more to the story. Just saying I don’t have kids tends to bring conversation to a halt. No kids? No grandkids? What? How much should I share?
What do you think? How much information do you need to give when people ask why you don’t have children? Do you tell all, give a vague answer, or change the subject? Is it none of their business? Do you turn it around and ask why they DO have children?
Please share in the comments. And, if you’ve read my book, did I say too much?
Thank you all for being here.