Facing a brand new year without children

I’m going to the hospital for a “procedure” this morning. They’ll knock me out, send a camera down into my innards and hopefully find out what’s been bugging me for months. It’s probably nothing, but we have to make sure, right? Lacking family in the area, my friend Pat will be my driver and companion for the day. And that’s just fine with me.

Do I wish I had children today? Honestly, no. If they were young, I’d be worried about who would take care of them while I was incapacitated. If they were grown, I’d hate to have them hovering, worrying and telling me what to do. No, Pat is good. We understand each other, we have been through some hard stuff together, and she doesn’t drive me crazy. So when the time comes, I’ll hand her my purse, let the drugs send me away and know she’ll be in the recovery room when I wake up.

Too often, we drive ourselves crazy with the “what ifs.” What if I never have children? What if my partner leaves me or dies? What if I decide 10 years down the road that I regret the decisions I made? What if this pain in my gut is cancer? Oops, I said the C word. I’m getting carried away with my own what ifs. Most likely, the worst they will find is an ulcer that has already begun to heal or nothing but a reaction to stress. But meanwhile, there’s life to be lived, and we should be living it.

Let’s make 2016 the year we don’t waste a minute with what ifs, the year we live each precious moment consciously and with gratitude for the gifts we have right now, whether it be a person, a pet, a job, a home, or a donut. (I am so hungry! I can’t eat until my surgery is over.)

I’m excited about a new year. I hope you are, too. I ask two things of you all in 2016. First, if you have been dithering for years about the whole baby-partner thing, resolve it this coming year. Talk about it, pray about, think about it, make a decision and move on. Might you change your mind later? Of course. But for now, stop torturing yourself. Either accept your situation or make the leap to a new one.

Second, tell us what happened. We get so many comments here from people who are in crisis, who don’t know what to do, who are considering leaving their partners, who feel like they can’t bear their grief, but we rarely hear the rest of the story. Please, if you have commented before, send us a follow-up. We want to know how things turned out. If you would like, I can offer you the whole blog space to tell your story.

And yes, I will tell you what the doctor found.

I have another piece of news. An essay of mine appears in a new book that just came out. It’s titled Biting the Bullet: Essays on the Courage of Women. Click here for information.

I wish you all a wonderful new year. Thank you for coming here and being my friends.

Christmas cards without kid pictures

I almost didn’t send out Christmas cards this year. I usually send about 50 and get back about 20. Those are filled with vacation photos, kid photos and newsletters full of the achievements of offspring I don’t even know. But still, I do want to touch base with the folks with whom my only contact is Christmas cards, so I did it.

What should we childless people put in our cards? Last year, I included a giant photo of my dog and noted that I was still writing, still singing, still enjoying life with Annie. If I’d had any major vacations or career achievements that they could relate to, I would have included them, but I didn’t. I mean, I think my blogs are important, but half my family would say “what’s a blog?” and the other half would wonder why I bother. Ditto for my other publications, my music activities and about 300 dog walks a year. I lost 20 pounds and haven’t gained them back, but that doesn’t seem appropriate to share. I didn’t go to Europe, didn’t get rich, didn’t get married, didn’t acquire any children. So anyway. On the cards where I felt chatty, I noted that surviving another year with no bad news is an achievement to be grateful for. Merry Christmas. Love, Sue.

It’s one of those challenging things about the holidays. You almost want to do something impressive just so you can put it in your Christmas card and gloat because your year was more fabulous than theirs.

My friend Carol, who never had children but has a lot of pets, sends out an entertaining newsletter every year from “The Irving Menagerie” in which each pet tells some of the family’s news for the year. I love reading that one.

If we are going to do holiday greetings, we need to find a way to make it fun for us as well as for the people who will receive them. No “woe is me” allowed. I’m thinking next year I might include a humorous poem, something they’ll want to keep. Or maybe another dog picture. Maybe a humorous poem and a dog picture.

How about you? Do you send out Christmas cards? Do you feel pressure to compete with the newsletters and photos? It might be a generational thing. Am I wrong in feeling that younger people are not messing with cards anymore? At least not the paper kind you mail? Especially with postage up to 49 cents each? Do you send online greetings instead?

This is my last post before Christmas. Did it come up fast or what? So here is my greeting to you.

Merry Christmas! If Christmas is not your thing, may you find comfort and meaning in whatever you celebrate. May the new year be filled with blessings. Each one of you is a blessing to me.

Sue

Childless readers help each other

Dear readers,

I love it when you start talking to each other in the comments. I feel like we’re building a real community for people who need to communicate with others who share similar problems without worrying about anybody in the outside world listening in.

My last post, Antidote to the Christmas blues, in which I admitted how bummed out I felt about the whole holiday season, attracted quite a few comments. You can click on the link to read them. These readers raise some interesting topics.

For example, how do you cope when your job requires you to be surrounded by mothers and babies all day long? Some readers find it unbearable while others say it gives them comfort and fills the emptiness inside. Do any of you have such jobs? How does it make you feel? Is it easier for childless people to stay away from children?

Then there’s the whole question of what we tell people about why we don’t have children. The questioning never ends, does it? The thing is, if you honestly tell friends and family that you don’t have kids because your partner doesn’t want them, it can backfire on you. People get mad at your partner, decide he/she’s no good, and maybe decide you’re an idiot for sticking around. “But wait, I love him/her,” you protest. They don’t care. Know what I mean? Anybody want to comment on this? What response can you give–without lying–that allows everyone to remain friends?

On April 8, I published a long comment by “Kam” about the frustrations of being a childless military wife. Yesterday I received an email from Lisa, who is also a childless military wife. She would really like to talk to Kam because they have a lot in common. Kam, if you are out there, email me at sufalick@gmail.com, and I will connect you with Lisa. Ditto for anyone else who wants to talk about the military life without kids.

How is your holiday season going? I’m doing pretty well. Christmas will be over in nine days. Then we can look forward to a whole new year. So try to enjoy the festivities. Thank you all for coming here. Keep in touch.

 

 

 

Dumped because she wanted her own children

Dear friends, I’m still getting lots of comments at the old Childless by Marriage site. I’m trying to herd them over here, but I don’t want anyone to miss anything, so I’m sharing this exchange from yesterday. Anonymous needs some advice. Please feel free to add your thoughts in the comments.

Anonymous said:

God, it’s been very comforting reading all the posts. The one thing that appears clear to me is we are scared if we leave we will never fall in love again. I’ve just been dumped and I’m brokenhearted, as I truly was with the most amazing guy. He had two teenage kids from a failed marriage over 10 years ago. I’m 38, he is 44, and on our first date, because I knew he had kids, I asked if he was open to having more, which he answered straightaway. A few months in, he had a bit if a panic attack and said he didn’t want any more children and needs to concentrate on the kids he has. He is dealing with a lot of guilt over his kids because he left. I think he feels he failed them and therefore doesn’t want to bring any more kids into this world but knows I deserve to be a mum. I am truly heartbroken, as we had an amazing relationship and deep down I know he doesn’t want it to finish but had to be honest and true to me. I don’t know if I do or don’t want kids, but I would like to have the choice,and if I do, in the next few years. I’m so scared if being on my own and what if I never meet someone, would my ex take me back if I said I gave up on the chance of having kids? I love him so much, but I know he had to be honest. I’m still questioning. Is he honest though and is it the guilt that he has over his two kids stopping him? Funny thing is they will be all grown up soon and won’t need him. He knows he will never meet anyone like me. It’s just so hard.

I replied: Anonymous, I’m sorry this has happened to you. Nobody really knows what will happen in the future. You might meet someone even better, you might not. Keep the lines of communication open with this guy. Maybe it’s not over yet. I hope things work out for you.

Anonymous wrote back:

Thank you, Sue, for your kind reply. I feel lost without him, but I guess it’s not our time right now and I’m very scared of being alone. He is such a wonderful guy, and I feel that the guilt has him torn inside. I thought I could help him deal with his demons from his past relationship, but I should have known better, he can only help himself. Sometimes I wonder would a baby be the making of him as he is a great dad to his kids when they allow him (teenagers!!)
Should I not contact him and let him be for now?

I replied:

Anon, I’d let him be for a while, but it would be okay once in a while to call to see how he is and how the kids are doing. After all, you were a family. But take some time to take care of yourself, too.

So, what do you think? Does this spark thoughts of your own situation? I look forward to hearing from you.

Sue

She’s infertile, he wants kids

Friends, I’m on deadline, so I’m going to let a couple of commenters from the old blog site have the floor this week in the hope you can add some insights and move the whole discussion to this site.

Surpermonkey: Here is my dilemma: I am a divorced mother of 2 daughters and 39 years young. Five years ago due to health reasons, I had to have a total hysterectomy. At the time of that surgery, I was married and knew that my marriage was rocky. At this time, I am head over heels in love with the man that I feel such a huge connection with. And the feeling is mutual. He is 40 and has never been married nor does he have any children. He wants them but has said that he has not found that person to give him that wonderful gift. Until he met me.

He said that he sees his future with me and wants to be with me and my girls but what is stopping him from being fully committed to me is the fact that I cannot have any more children. He says that he has to decide–get married to me, to the love of his life and his soul mate and give up the dream of having children of his own or break things off with me and hope he can find someone that can give him children so that he can experience that kind of love that a father and child has. I am afraid that if he chooses our love, then will he end up resenting me in the future?

Will I always have this cloud over me that I cannot give the one man that I love the very thing that he wants most in this world? Do I break it off with him and make this decision for him–so that he can try to find someone that can give him that? He says that by staying with me, I am changing him and his way of life or the way he had envisioned his life. My girls love him and he says he loves my girls. He is so afraid that I am going to break things off with him because of this. But how long can I continue like this? We are so happy when we are together, but then I remember that if we stay together he will never have a child of his own. Any one have any advice?

Sue: Oh Surpermonkey, what a pickle. Have you discussed the possibility of adoption or using a surrogate? If he really wants this, there has to be an alternative to splitting up. I hope you can find it together.

Tony: I’d say you have a situation on your hands. Here’s my take. I got married very late in life. I was 42 and my wife was 45. She had two boys in her first marriage and we decided not to have any kids. I was fine with it then, but I’m not now. This may be painful to hear, but you opened that door. If he feels strongly about having his own child and you can’t, do him a favor, pull the plug and set him free. I can assure you that he will resent you and your kids. That’s where I am right now and I’m 63. Men are very funny about this. I can foresee a HUGE meltdown and argument coming and feelings will be hurt. I wouldn’t adopt or settle for a surrogate. If I ever had kids, they MUST be my own DNA and sperm-produced kids. Anything else is settling for less than I deserve. My advice, hold your strength, cut set him free and get on with your life. As he feels now, nothing good can come from this.

Surpermonkey: Thank you. I am not sure what we are going to do. He would rather not adopt and we have discussed a surrogate. We know that there are other options out there but they are so costly. Obviously we have a lot more to discuss on this subject. I appreciate your advice.

So that’s what they said. I think Tony is being a little harsh, perhaps projecting the anger from his own situation onto Surpermonkey’s. But maybe not. What do you think?

He forgot to mention his vasectomy?

Dear friends,

Have you ever been tempted to lie to get your way in the baby debate? When I was young and fertile, some of my older relatives suggested I simply stop using birth control without telling my husband. He would come around once I got pregnant. I’ll bet some of you have heard that advice, too. Leave out the diaphragm or don’t take the pill and pretty soon, oops we’re pregnant, I just don’t know how that could have happened. I always argued that that wasn’t fair, that you didn’t deceive someone you loved like that, but I suspect that quite a few women have done it.

What about you? Have you been tempted to secretly skip the birth control so you could “accidentally” get pregnant? Or have you gone the other way, not telling your partner you’re on the pill because you didn’t want to have a baby?

If you’re a guy, have you ever lied one way or the other about having a vasectomy in the hope of either making a baby or preventing a pregnancy you didn’t want?

Men and women, have you been the victim of this kind of secrecy? You thought you could or could not get pregnant, but your partner was not telling you the truth?

I received this comment at the old site today:

Anonymous said…

I am in my mid-30s and my husband is mid-50s. We have been married eight years. Before we decided to get married, we agreed to have at least one child together (he has two adult children). We have never prevented pregnancy. I thought something was wrong with me! Why couldn’t I get pregnant when everyone else around me was popping out babies left and right?

Just before our second anniversary, he casually referred to the vasectomy he had over 15 years before, after the birth of his last child. What? All the time we had talked about and planned to have a baby, he had not once mentioned a vasectomy. We even had baby names and schools picked out for our future child!

To say that I was (am) devastated is a true understatement. Six years have passed since then, and I still have not come to terms or in any way accepted this “forced” childlessness. My heart hurts so much sometimes that I don’t feel like I have the strength to take a shower or brush my teeth. The only thing I ever really wanted to “achieve” in life was being a mom! I know that adoption or IVF are out there, but I sure don’t have the money.

I try to tell myself that having a good relationship with my husband and no kids is better than having a poor relationship with him and lots of kids. This doesn’t heal or even soothe my ache; I just hope if I repeat it enough, I will start to believe it someday.
I wish I knew what to say to all of us suffering from childlessness. My hat is off to you, Sue, for trying to help.

Oh, by the way, I had a vasectomy 15 years ago?!! I don’t know what I would have done. The thought makes me so angry I want to punch something.

I think this kind of deception goes way beyond “little white lies.” What do you think?

If They Don’t Want Kids, Do You Have to Break Up?

That’s the question that arises in the majority of comments here at Childless by Marriage.  So many people, mostly anonymous, write that their partner says he (or she) does not want to have children. In some cases, they both agreed on not having kids in the beginning, but now the writer has changed her mind and is frustrated because her partner has not. In other cases, the partner has just announced that he isn’t interested in having kids. Not now, not ever, he doesn’t want to discuss it.

The heartbroken writer says: Now we have to break up. They may have been together for five, ten or twenty years, but it’s over because their partner does not want to be a parent.

Yesterday, Anonymous wrote: My girlfriend of 8 years has just told me she does not want children. She won’t even discuss it. I’m gutted and know I can’t stay with her. It is incredibly painful. She loves children and is great with them. Instead of even giving a reason, she just says she is ‘at peace’ with her decision.

But is it over? Should you really throw away a relationship that is good in every other way over this issue? God knows it’s a huge issue. The Catholic Church considers it grounds for annulment, declaring the marriage was never valid. Having children or not changes the whole course of your life, and if you have always wanted to be a mother or father, shouldn’t you pursue that?

Maybe. But how do you know whether you will find someone else in time to procreate or that you will ever love another person as much as the partner you have now? You don’t. So hold on. Don’t be too quick to jump ship or to broadcast to the world that your partner is a rat. Take a breath. Talk about it. I know, they don’t always want to talk. Give them a little time. Find a way to approach the subject without accusations and threats. Maybe say, “I love you so much and I want to understand . . .” Maybe you could each write a letter explaining your feelings. Maybe you could try counseling. Maybe there’s a good reason or an obstacle that you can help them get over. Or not. Just don’t give up too quickly. If you really love someone, you have to accept them as they are. If up until now, this person was The One, maybe he still is.

If the relationship is new and you really haven’t established any strong ties, then adios. Tell them it’s a deal-breaker and move on. But if you have given everything to this relationship, maybe it’s meant to be.

What do you think about this? Have you ever broken up over children? Are you thinking about it? What would you advise if it was your brother or your best friend? Please comment.

A Tale of Two Childless Writers

Have you ever heard of May Sarton? Sarton, who lived from 1912 to 1995, was a poet, novelist and memoirist in an era when most women stayed home and had babies. She published more than 50 books. I recently read her Journal of a Solitude, published in 1973. It describes a year she lived alone in a small town in New Hampshire. Although she battled loneliness and depression, she was convinced that solitude was essential to her career as a writer. She did not see how she could have succeeded if she were married and had children. The demands of motherhood did not allow the necessary time, energy or focus. Although many friends visited and she often went out for public appearances or to spend time with a mystery lover she called X, she was always anxious to be alone again.

A wonderful list of Sarton quotes at Goodreads.com includes this one: “It is harder for women, perhaps to be ‘one-pointed,’ much harder for them to clear space around whatever it is they want to do beyond household chores and family life. Their lives are fragmented… the cry not so much for a ‘a room of one’s own’ as time of one’s own.”

I found myself having a lot in common with Sarton, except that I still believe it is possible to write and raise children. The early years might be difficult, but once the kids start school, you have guaranteed hours when someone else is taking care of them. It worked for me those years when Fred’s youngest son lived with us. He was just turning 12 when he moved in, and he was a self-sufficient kind of boy, so I was able to work all day on my own writing and my job writing for a local newspaper. I could have become more involved in Michael’s life, volunteering at school, baking cookies, or whatever, but my work was always a high priority. I often think God planned for me to be childless, so I could be a writer. Too often I burn dinner while I’m engrossed in my work. How would I care for a baby?

Of course, many moms these days need a job outside the home, and that makes it hard to do anything else. Sarton was wealthy. She had a maid, gardeners and a handyman taking care of things around the house while she spent hours perfecting a line of poetry.

Then there’s Elizabeth Gilbert, famous for Eat, Pray, Love and several other books. Readers of her work know she chose to be childless. In an interview, she said she struggled with her decision. Motherhood seemed to be the natural path, but it didn’t feel right for her.  She finally decided, “Okay, this is my path. I’ll take it with its risks and with its liberation because it’s mine.” Her decision, which left her free to travel, write and explore, feels more right every year, she says.

A lot changed between 1973, when the women’s movement was just beginning to blossom, and 2015. Women have more choices these days in lifestyles, careers, and reproductive decisions. Perhaps if they switched eras, Sarton and Gilbert would have made different choices.

What do you think? Can you devote yourself completely to your career and be a mother, too? Has not having children given you freedom to do things you wouldn’t have been able to do if you were raising a family? Or have you put everything on hold while still hoping to have children? Please comment.

Men Hurt Over Childlessness, Too

Dear friends,

We get a lot of comments from women whose male partners don’t want children or can’t have them. Either they were open about it from the start or they changed their mind somewhere along the way. It’s easy to get mad at these men and blame them for everything. But sometimes the situation is reversed.

About a year ago, Anonymous wrote:

I’m a 34-year-old childless man. My wife has two boys from her previous marriage, and due to health issues is infertile. Though I’ve always wanted a child, I delayed it as some do, waiting for the ‘right’ time, financial stability, etc., etc. However, the older I have gotten, the stronger the desire has grown. Now, the powerful sadness of not having a child, of not feeling a real part of our family, and the resentment and feeling second class to my stepsons’ father and my wife as the biological parents has begun to consume me and bring about a depression that I didn’t know was possible.

I have always had a great desire for us to be as close to a conventional family as possible. I’ve poured my heart, soul, years, resources, and time into it, yet the results I hoped for always eluded me. The father pays no child support, and it falls to me provide, clothe, and care for the boys, which I happily do. But doing homework with them, but never allowed to attend a teacher conference, maintaining all the responsibilities of a parent while I’m not and never will be called ‘Dad’, is a torture that I’m not familiar with. Simply, I feel resentful, hurt, and lonely from what I perceive my role to be: second class, outsider, not good enough.

No matter what I do, I’ll never have the bond my wife does with her ex. I’ll never have those experiences with her, and it’s hitting me for the first time that this is my reality. I love my wife dearly, which is perhaps an aggravating circumstance to my emotion. It’s my own fault for making the choices in life I have. I just hoped for more, and I’m understanding that that hope was foolish.

Thank you for providing a venue to vent…..this has been eating me alive. I’ve browsed your blog and it helps to know that it isn’t just me, that maybe I’m not completely weird in my feelings.

More recently, Tony had this to say:

I got married very late in life, 42, and my wife, or soon to be ex, was 45. She had two boys from her first marriage. We agreed at the time that we wouldn’t have kids because it’s hard for women over 40 to have healthy kids. I was quite heavy (360 lbs) and wasn’t as attractive as I was in my younger years. Then, I was okay with not having my own kids. Some years later, I had weight loss surgery and lost 150 lbs. We lost a grandbaby five years ago, and my wife went into a tailspin. My youngest stepson and his wife had two boys, and while I care for them, I don’t love them like my own. I’ve tried and I can’t. I resent being around them and knowing that none of my DNA is in them. This may sound ugly; so be it. They are my feelings and I don’t apologize for them. I’m 63 and my wife is 66. She’s let herself go and I’m in the gym EVERY DAY ! I’ve met someone many years younger whom I’ve fallen in love with and who can and will give me children. My own DNA, my sperm-produced children. I know many people may hate me for this. Again, so be it. But what am I supposed to do? Stay married to my soon-to-be ex and resent that I never had my own kids? Or do what my heart and soul are telling me to do?

I responded that it looks like he already knows what he’s going to do. It does sound ugly, but people feel what they feel.

Here’s another situation for which you might feel more sympathetic. Author Elliot Jager has written a book about being a childless Orthodox Jew. The Pater: My Father, My Judaism, My Childlessness describes how not having children turns him into an outcast in his religion. In his case, he is infertile. He and his wife have tried all the options, and they haven’t worked. “In Judaism,” he writes, “having children is seen as a blessing. But someone who doesn’t have children isn’t seen as being unblessed, but as being actually punished.”

Jager notes that just because men might not talk about it, they do feel the sting of childlessness.

I think that’s true, and it’s not just in the Jewish faith. I’m Catholic, and I can tell you that both men and women who don’t have children often feel like they don’t fit in. But it’s not just at church. The subject can arise at work and in social settings, too. “Hey, Jack, bring the wife and kids.” But Jack doesn’t have any kids. Men might share in the jokes about male body parts that follow, but they may be hurting on the inside.

We women want to claim all the childless grief because we’re the ones who carry the babies in our wombs, but men are part of the story, too.

What do think about all this? I’d love to read your comments.

No kids? Find a new dream

Dear friends,

I spent four days last week on the road at the Willamette Writers Conference in Portland, Oregon. I have gone to this conference many times, but rarely have I come away feeling so inspired. The workshops I took, the connections I made, and the friends I spent time with all gave me new energy for my work. There were hundreds of us at the Doubletree Hotel. Many were parents or grandparents. Many were married. Many had jobs doing other things besides writing. But I didn’t see any of that. There were no family groups to make me feel left out. No kid-centric conversations. For those four days, we were all writers. Nobody felt left out or different; we all shared a passion for words and books, from the high school kid who writes about rock stars to the 80-year-old writing a murder mystery.

I can go to events like the conference because I don’t have anyone except my dog to take care of. A phone call brings my trusted dog-sitter, and I’m free to go. If I had children, it would be more difficult. Not impossible, but tricky. When my husband was ill, I had a hard time getting away even to run a few errands. What I’m saying is being on your own is not all bad.

Most parents wait until their kids are grown to follow their own dreams. A lot of people who want to write don’t start until retirement. But you and I can do it now. Whatever your passion is, dive into it. Following your passion for whatever interests you can take your mind off your lack of children, put you together with people who share that passion, and give you a new purpose for your life. I know many of you wanted to be parents and wrapped your lives around that dream, but sometimes we have to find a new dream. If it’s something you and your partner can share, all the better. My motorcycle-riding cousin and his wife come to mind.

Maybe you’re still trying to figure out whether or not you’ll have children. But why not find something you love to do while you’re figuring it out?

***

As you may know, I’ve been transitioning from my old Childless by Marriage blog site to this new one. The last few posts have been published at both www.childlessbymarriageblog.com and www.childlessbymarriage.blogspot.com. An unfortunate side-effect is that the comments I receive on one site do not appear on the other. I don’t know how to remedy this except to share the most interesting comments in my posts.

So, in response to last week’s Maybe It’s Time to Reassess, about finding things to be grateful for, Anonymous wrote:

I agree, we all should count our blessings. To get through a grief period this year, I started keeping a diary and forced myself to write down at least one thing per day, that I was grateful for. After 6 months, it really turned my attitude around. Now I can fill up a page of things I am grateful for, even though my career did not turn out as planned, and I did not have children. Here are a few things I’m grateful about today: 1) I slept the entire night without waking up or having hot flashes; 2)my husband’s hug before he left for work; 3) the weather is beautiful and cooler like we are entering Fall; 4) my sisters, my niece, and still having my mom in my life; 5) my boss took the day off and I can feel at peace at my job; and 6) my bunny is happy and excited every time he sees me. All this and it’s only 8:39 a.m. Can’t wait to see what else happens throughout the day that makes me feel blessed.

I am grateful for all of you.

Sue