Author: Sue Fagalde Lick

‘He made me have an abortion’

Sue Fagalde Lick abortion and childlessness, childless women who aborted their babies, men forcing women into abortions

Relax, that headline does not refer to me. I have never been pregnant, never had an abortion.

It refers to the many women I have interviewed or read about who aborted their only pregnancies because the men in their lives insisted they weren’t ready for children. This makes me so angry. The question isn’t whether or not one believes abortion is wrong. The question is whether somebody else has the right to tell you what to do with the fetus in your own body. What man is worth letting them make such a huge decision for you? It’s the worst form of abuse. In most of these cases, the women were not teenagers. They were grown women who in other circumstances would have welcomed a baby. But because Mr. I Don’t Want to Be a Dad said no–or not yet, which eventually became no–they aborted.

They thought they would keep the man by aborting the baby, but in almost every case, the man dumped them anyway. And the women never got over it, especially when they lost their only chance to be mothers.

Laura always thought she’d have children, but she didn’t marry until she was 29. Her stepchildren were nearly as old as she was. Her husband seemed to want more children, but when she conceived, he changed his mind. “It’s either the baby or me,” he told her. Remembering this ten years later, she begins to cry. Her husband assured her they could try again later, when it was a better time, so she had an abortion. But every time she tried to talk about having a baby, he refused to discuss it. “That attitude went on for seven more years.” She pauses to blow her nose. “I just turned to him one day and said, ‘Bob, are we or are we not going to have kids.?’ And he said no.”

Sarah did it more than once. Shortly after she left her home country to be with Clay, she discovered she was pregnant. Clay said it was too soon. They needed time to get a house, to become more settled in together. She agreed to have an abortion, thinking there would be another chance. But the day she came home from the hospital, he told her, “No, we’re not going to have kids.” 

Sarah was 33 then and still hoping, but he didn’t change his mind. In fact, the same scenario happened again. This time she had deliberately stopped taking her birth control pills. He was furious and insisted she have another abortion. She did. “He talks so reasonably,” she said, her voice trialing off.

Grrr.

I have interviewed other women who were comfortable with their decision to have an abortion. They had not planned to have children and believe they did the right thing. For example, Joyce and her husband Tom got pregnant when her IUD failed. They agreed to abort and believe they made the right choice.

I’m not here to debate whether abortion is right or wrong or whether or not it should be legal. It’s a personal choice. What I’m saying is that if you are the one who is pregnant, you have to be the one to make the decision. Don’t let anybody force you into it, especially if you know you want children. If the man in your life is insisting you have an abortion that you don’t want, dump him, not the baby.

What do you think about all this?

He says no kids; what do you do?

Sue Fagalde Lick my husband can't have children, my wife can't have children, Response to partner who doesn't want kids, what if he doesn't want kids, what if she doesn't want kids

Last week, I shared my stories of how my two husbands didn’t want children. I should have mentioned that some of the guys I dated in-between would have been happy to father my children, but they weren’t the kind of men I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Several of you have already commented on your situation. Check the two previous posts to read what they said. There’s still time to join the conversation. Has your partner told you he or she doesn’t want to have kids with you? Or is it just implied by their actions and reactions? How do you respond? Do you say, okay, I love you enough that I can accept your decision? Do you say, uh-oh, that’s a deal-breaker? Do you accidentally-on purpose stop using birth control? Do you tell everybody in the world what a rat he is but stay with him anyway? Are you afraid to bring it up?

This is a tough situation, but the one thing I learned is that moping in silence or complaining to everyone but the person who could help solve the problem doesn’t fix anything. So what do you do?

It’s not always a question of wanting different things. What if your partner would like children but is physically unable to have them? Do you love him or her enough to stay with them anyway?

I’m looking forward to your comments.

Next time (drum roll), we’re going to talk about abortion.

 

He said he didn’t want any more kids

Sue Fagalde Lick deciding whether or not to have children, he doesn't want kids

Thursday, I wrote about how my first husband, Jim, didn’t want children. It was a gradual, non-stated thing until I thought I might be pregnant. Then he said he’d leave if I was pregnant.

Our divorce a year or so later had nothing to do with that, but under the rules of the Catholic church, I was able to obtain an annulment on the grounds that he refused to have children. The diocesan tribunal in San Francisco ruled it an invalid marriage.

So, three years later, along came Fred, cute, funny, loving, responsible, gainfully employed, all the stuff a girl wants in a husband. The first time we made love, I rushed to put my diaphragm in, but it proved unnecessary. He had had a vasectomy after his third child was born. After we got engaged, we talked about reversing the vasectomy or adopting a child, but finally he told me that he really didn’t want to have any more children. I was upset, but we went on to get married. Did I think he’d change his mind? Probably. I tend heavily toward denial. But in our 25 years of marriage, the only babies in our family were the ones his daughter had.

Looking back, I’m glad Fred was honest about not wanting more children. Over the years, I found that he liked children, but didn’t want to be responsible for them. Like Jim, he wasn’t keen on babies. To be honest, he wasn’t even that good with puppies. All that noise and mess. I grieved the loss of the children I might have had, and, to Fred’s credit, he felt tremendously guilty.

It’s not always that one person is the bad guy. I can see Fred’s side. He was 15 years older than me, and he had spent years raising the three kids he already had. He had thought he was done with that part of life until I came along. If there’s any blame to be laid, it’s on me. Fred loved me enough that I believe he would have gone along with the process if I had insisted that I couldn’t be happy without being a  mother. Instead, I made a non-decision and the years passed until it was too late.

How about you? Have you made a definite decision to have or not have kids? If you cannot be happy without them, have you made that clear to your partner?  Will it damage your relationship if one person has to give up what they want?

Childless journey begins: the revelation

Sue Fagalde Lick husband can't have kids, husband doesn't want kids, wife can't have kids, wife doesn't want kids

In your search for a mate, you think you have found THE ONE. After years of bad dates, maybe even bad marriages, this man or woman is a keeper. And then, one day, after you’ve given him or her your heart, they drop the bomb. They can’t or don’t want to have children with you. He tells you he’s had a vasectomy. She tells you of problems that will keep her from getting pregnant. He keeps telling you he’s not ready for children. She shares that she never felt the urge to be a mother. He says the kids from his first marriage are more than enough. Gradually–or suddenly–you realize that if you stay with this person, you will never have children. Now what do you do?

This week I want to talk about that revelation. How do we find out that our partner isn’t going to have kids with us?

I was married twice to men who didn’t give me children. My first husband, Jim, seemed like he would be a great father. I watched him play with other people’s kids and assumed that he would welcome our own. In our Catholic marriage prep, we both signed a paper saying we would welcome children and raise them in the faith. But once we were married, he kept wanting to put off pregnancy. Not till we get good jobs, he said. Not till we get a house. The years were passing by. My friends and relatives were having babies, and I wanted one, too.

When I started taking care of the neighbors’ baby, I saw a different side of Jim. He couldn’t stand its crying, its smells, its needs. And then, when I thought, despite rigorous use of birth control, that I might be pregnant, he dropped the bomb. If  I was pregnant, he was leaving.

Would he really have done that? I’ll never know. It turned out I wasn’t pregnant. Soon after that, our marriage fell apart for other reasons. I do know that he did not have kids with his next wife either.

In my next post, I’ll talk about the revelation in my second marriage. But today, I’m asking you. How did you find out children might not be in your future? Did they tell you straight out, did something happen, did you guess? Did you believe them?  Let’s talk about it.

Happy un-Mother’s day

Sue Fagalde Lick Anne Lamott, Childless by Marriage the ebook, childless on Mother's Day

I know it’s not quite Mother’s Day yet, about five hours to go here in Oregon, but it’s Mother’s Day somewhere, and you may have noticed that the mania started early. Advertisements for gifts for Mom, friends planning Mother’s Day activities, radio shows playing mother-centric songs–it’s everywhere. Even on Facebook, it’s Mom, Mom, Mom.
It occurred to me as I was walking my dog through the woods a little while ago, that there’s nothing out there in nature to make us feel bad about not having children. The trees don’t care. The squirrels aren’t running around buying gifts for their mothers. The mama robins aren’t stressing out over whether they’ll get presents tomorrow. Just get away from the media, and you’ll be fine.

I went to a post-wedding shower this afternoon. It was lovely, high tea elegantly served in a beautiful house, followed by gifts and wedding pictures. Everybody else there except the new bride is not only a wife but a mother, and the bride is actively trying to get pregnant. I felt a bit like a purple goose in a field full of white ones. But that’s okay. We must learn to be proud of our purpleness. God made us purple for a reason.

I ran across a great column at Salon.com by Anne Lamott called “Why I Hate Mother’s Day.” You might want to read it. Anne is a mother, but she gets how we feel.

My own un-Mother’s Day gift to you is the release of Childless by Marriage, the Kindle ebook. Click here to buy it for only $2.99. Cheaper than the cocktail you might get to wash your troubles away.

Try not to feel sorry for yourself today or to dishonor the mothers in your life just because of your own lack of children. Go do something you enjoy. The day will pass and you can forget about it for another year.

Surviving another Mother’s Day

Sue Fagalde Lick Childless by Marriage book, childless on Mother's Day, surviving Mother's Day
Dear friends, it’s almost Mother’s Day. If you’re anything like me, you hate this day. It’s all about mothers, and you are not a mother. People who don’t know you assume that you look like a mother and must be one, and that makes it hurt all the more. Everywhere you turn, you see tributes to “Mom,” advertisements for gifts and special activities for “Mom” and people planning family get-togethers to honor “Mom.” You might even be hosting or attending one of these events this weekend. I’m sorry. I’ll be leading the choir at two Masses at church on Sunday morning, so I’ll get to experience the Mother’s Day prayers and the after-Mass brunch twice. Then I’ll go home to my dog.

For me, Mother’s Day is not as bad as it used to be. For a while, especially after my mother died, the whole thing turned me into a raging crazy woman. I used to expect cards and gifts from the stepchildren, and that didn’t happen. I get it. They have their own mother and grandmother to honor. It’s just a tough day.

To survive, I urge you to avoid as much of the Mother’s Day mania as you can. Do something that makes you feel good, preferably far away from mass media. If you can’t, try to focus your energy on honoring people you love. Try not to obsess about what you don’t have.Think of Mother’s Day like Father’s Day or Secretaries Day or Brussell’s Sprouts Appreciation Day. It has nothing to do with you, so let it go.

And here’s another antidote, shameless plug intended: Childless by Marriage, the Kindle ebook, is available now as at Amazon.com. You don’t have to have a Kindle to read it. You can download the Kindle reading program for free on any computer or smart-phone and most tablets such as the iPad. So curl up with a book and ignore the craziness until Mother’s Day goes away. You might want to skip ahead to the chapter called Mother’s Day Rant.

The print book will be out this summer, but you can read the ebook today for only $2.99.

Another antidote: Feel free to rant about Mother’s Day here in the comments all you want.  We’re here for you.

Are we childless mothers?

Sue Fagalde Lick childless mothers, Childless Mothers Connect, Marcy Cole

I was recently invited to join a new online support group called “Childless Mothers Connect.” It’s a colorful site with lots of opportunities to network with other childless women. So far, it’s so new that there isn’t much there yet, but I joined. I can see how it can be valuable in the future. The site includes forums for a variety of interests, including “Adoring Aunties,” “Relationship Rap,” “Savvy Stepmoms” and “Moms to the 4-Legged.” The founder, Dr. Marcy Cole, blogs and comments on childlessness.

Cole’s theory is that we are all mothers in some way, even if we don’t have actual human children. I have toyed with the concept, considering whether we all have an innate need to nurture, to take care of the young and old, to create with what some call our “womb energy.” In the end, I’m just not comfortable with the theory. Something doesn’t feel right about it.

What do you think?  Do you accept the term “childless mother”? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Check out the Childless Mothers Connect website. You might find something you need there.
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I had hoped to show you the Childless by  Marriage book cover today, but the artist and I have not reached agreement yet. Stay tuned.

Am I a "Velcro daughter?"

Sue Fagalde Lick childless women immature?, Do childless women grow up

Sunday we celebrated my dad’s 90th birthday with a big party in San Jose (You can read about it at my Unleashed in Oregon blog.) As usual, I sat with my father and my brother. Unlike most of the guests, I brought neither significant other nor children. The room was full of people I hadn’t seen in ages, and I had a great time–and the chocolate cake was fabulous–but I did notice that I was different. I was the only “Lick” in the room. And I wondered how I would behave if I had brought a husband and children. I know I would not have felt as free to wander around the room visiting relatives my marriage family would not know very well; I’d be concerned about their needs. But I worry that I might be a little bit like my dog, who is what some dog owners call a “Velcro dog.” She attaches herself to me whenever possible, doesn’t seem to be happy unless she is touching me. Have I, because I don’t have a marriage family of husband and kids, Velcroed myself to my original family, still hanging with my father and little brother? Is this weird? Or is it sweet? There’s a chapter in my soon-to-be-released book about whether childless women ever grow up.

What do you think? If you don’t have kids, are you less likely to let go of your parents and siblings? Do we ever grow up?

Is “Aunt Sue” nuts? Wait, don’t answer that. Have a great Monday.

I look forward to showing you the book cover on Thursday. The artist is tweaking it today. Childless by Marriage the ebook is coming!

The coldest reaction to childless grief

Sue Fagalde Lick "get over it", blessings of childlessness, grieving over lack of children

“Get over it.” That’s what his girlfriend said when this man who wrote to me told her he’d have a hard time dealing with not having children. They were talking about marriage. She had been married before and had a daughter. Now 45, she wasn’t interested in trying for another. But he was younger and still wanted kids. He wanted her to understand that he would need a lot of moral support if he never became a father. She said, “get over it.” 

As far as I know, they’re still together, but now he’s worried about her attitude.

You don’t just “get over” losing your chance to have children. We all need to find a way to live with it, to keep it from ruining all that is good in our lives, but that feeling of something missing does not just disappear. It’s a bit like the feeling we have when someone we love dies. As the priest told my father, brother and me before my mother’s funeral, there’s a wound in our hearts that will never completely heal. Ten years later, I know it’s still there.

I have heard people say “get over it” about lots of things. Childlessness is definitely one of them. I know men and women who have progressed from childless to childfree. They have come to a place where they don’t mind not having children. They’re even glad about it. God bless them, but it’s not that easy for most of us. The least our partners can do is try to understand that sometimes that old wound will still hurt.

I think “get over it” is one of the most hurtful phrases in our language. It denies our right to have feelings, and those who say it should get over that.

Has anyone ever said this to you?

This Childless Book Gets It Right

Sue Fagalde Lick Childless by Marriage book, Childless reflections, Gillian Guthrie, The Last Two Eggs

I have mentioned this book before, but I have finished reading it now and can heartily recommend it to my childless friends. 

Childless: Reflections on Life’s Longing for Itself by Gillian Guthrie, Short Stop Press, 2012. This is a marvelous book that covers a vast range of topics related to women who don’t have children. Guthrie, who grew up in South Africa and lives in Australia, spent many years working in television news before tackling this book that is close to her heart. Married twice to men with problems, she didn’t find a man who would be a suitable father until she was at the end of her fertility and she was not able to conceive. 

To produce this book, Guthrie conducted extensive research and called together childless women to meet for Childfree Lunches where they would talk about things people with children wouldn’t understand. The resulting book is beautifully written, nicely weaving Guthrie’s own story into the overall picture of childlessness in Australia and the rest of the world. Currently one in four women are childless in her country. 

Chapters introduce us to all sorts of women without children and how they happened to be that way. Guthrie writes about gay women, women in politics who have been trashed for not having children, women who grew up with abusive and/or mentally ill parents, women who suffered through legal and illegal abortions, women who waited too long, women who waited too long, the grief of childlessness and so much more. 

The book is available in print and as a Kindle ebook.

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Speaking of Kindle ebooks, my book Childless by Marriage is still scheduled to be released for Kindle on Mother’s Day. Things are moving a little slowly with cover design, but I’m still hoping for that date. 
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Finally, if you want a giggle or just to see me make a fool of myself, I recorded a humorous piece called “The Last Two Eggs” on YouTube last week. Take a look. 


See you on Thursday.