childless by marriage

Maybe It’s Time to Reassess

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage , , , , ,

Six people I know have died in the last month. Six! None were family members, thank God, but still, they were people I knew and cared about. Also, my cousin gave birth to twins. Plus, I’ve got a new boss who is, how shall I put it, insane. And my neighbor has a new rooster who never stops crowing. All since July 1. What a month. Makes a girl think and reassess.

I’ve been whining a lot lately about being alone and childless. I won’t lie. It’s hard sometimes. Saturday, when I arrived at a funeral that was not held at my own church, I found myself alone in a sea of families. And when the folks in front of me told me all about their children and grandchildren, I felt awful. So alone. I went home and cried and only partly for my neighbor who died. But part of that is my own fault for being too shy to introduce myself to strangers and make them friends. I’d rather feel sorry for myself. My friend Pat talks to everyone. Within five minutes, she has new friends, so she’s never alone. Yes, she has children, but they all live far away. She has a husband, but he’s currently disabled and can’t do things with her. Her own health isn’t great. We’ve all got problems.

But you know what we also have? Blessings. One day last week when I just couldn’t face my work anymore, I got in my car and drove to the beach. I hung out on the sand until lunchtime, then treated myself to an expensive lunch at a posh restaurant with a fabulous view. Later I went shopping, and I drove down some roads I’d never tried before. I did not have to arrange childcare or consult with any other human being. I just went, and it was great.

I watched 13 episodes of “Orange is the New Black” in one week last month. I’m not sure that’s good for anybody’s brain, but again, no one to consult, no child or husband to feed, nobody whining that they wanted to watch something else.

My dog Annie and I walk almost every day through the woods or on the beach. Between us we have six good legs and we’re healthy. That, my friends, is a blessing.

I eat three delicious meals a day and have money left over. I am so lucky.

Many of you have partners whom you love. You might be making each other crazy over the baby issue, but stop for a minute. Set that aside. What do you love about this person? What does he or she give you? Sex? Love? Support? A hand to hold when you’re scared? That’s something a lot of people don’t have.

Do you have a home? Your health? Parents? Siblings? Cousins? Friends? Pets?

Do you have work that you enjoy?

I know. This baby thing has you all tied up in knots. You worry about the future. Will you regret not having children? Will you end up alone? Will your relationship last? Should you leave? Should you stay? It’s hard.

But today, right now, count your blessings. Life is short, and we never know when it will end. My fingers are getting tired of playing funeral songs. But I’m grateful that those fingers can still dance on the piano keys and I can still sing.

How about you? Perhaps you don’t have babies of your own, but what DO you have?

Who will plan my funeral and other childless worries

Sue Fagalde Lick alone without children, childless by marriage , , , , ,

I’m having random thoughts about childlessness on this warm summer evening. I live on the Oregon Coast and tourists are visiting here from all over the U.S. and Canada. I’m seeing a lot of kids and grandkids, big family groups gathering at the beach or local restaurants while I show up with my dog or alone. My friends are enjoying visits from their children and grandchildren or heading out of town to visit them at their homes. It’s the kids, kids, kids channel all day long. Part of me is relieved not to have to deal with the needs of a little one, but part of me just aches over the loss, especially of the adult children I could have to hug, help, and hang out with.

I sang at a funeral on Saturday for a woman just a few years older than me who died of cancer. The church was packed. I didn’t know her, but she was active in the community and had lots of friends. But she also had a big family. Daughters, sons, their spouses, and their children filled the first few rows, and several of them came forward to speak through their tears about “mom” and “grandma.” I should have been thinking about the woman who died and sympathizing with her family, but all I could think is “who’s going to be at my funeral”? Who will organize it? Who will come? When my husband died, we had six family members, including me, but his friends filled the chapel. I pray that will happen for me, too, but what if it doesn’t? I know I shouldn’t worry about these things, but I do.

An 89-year-old friend of mine also died recently. He had no children. His wife had one son from her previous marriage. That son showed up to help, but they argued so much he went home early. The wife is not planning to have a funeral for her husband. It gets worse. She’s legally blind. There’s no way she can live alone, so I’m not sure what she’s going to do. Fortunately, there are several of us who love her like daughters. We will help as much as we can.

Now that you’re totally depressed, let me cheer you up with a comment that I received recently on my post about why a person might not want to have children. You probably won’t see the comment on the WordPress version of this blog as I transition from one blog host to the other.

On July 21, Anonymous wrote:

I was lucky enough to fall in love in my mid-twenties with a man who, like me, was somewhat leaning against having children. I was pretty sure I didn’t want children, having had, since childhood, a feeling that motherhood probably wasn’t for me. But after we married, I wanted to wait a few years before making a final decision to see if my feelings, or his, would change. They didn’t. What happened next was a series of vivid dreams in which I would inexplicably find myself six or seven months pregnant, too late to change my mind, horrified and terrified, and trying desperately to convince myself that having a baby would be okay while knowing it would not. At least twice I woke up clutching my belly. Husband and self are now in our sixties, happily married and childless. I know that by not having children, we gave up some wonderful things. And I know my sisters will have the support of their children as they age, and I won’t have that special kind of support. But I remain convinced that I made the right decision for me, and my husband feels the same way. My childhood was happy, my mother is warm and wonderful, and I really can’t explain why I knew I didn’t want to become a mother while my sisters wanted to be, and are, great mothers. I do know that especially after those dreams, anyone who might have tried to persuade me to have a baby would not have been successful. To the list of reasons why some people don’t want children, I’d have to add “Unexplainable but extremely strong gut-level knowledge that having children would be a huge mistake.”

Feel better?

I welcome your comments.

“Honey, I changed my mind about having kids”

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage , , , ,

In Carolyn Hax’s July 20 advice column, a reader asks what a lot of folks ask here. She and her husband originally agreed not to have children. Now she’s having second thoughts. She has a whole script worked out to discuss this with her guy, hoping maybe he has changed his mind, too, but what if he says he still doesn’t want kids?

Hax asks the reader if she can accept it if her husband sticks to his no-kids decision. She offers comments from other readers who have experienced this situation. And one of them mentions this blog. Whoever you are, thank you. Tell your friends.

So, people do change their minds. They think they’re okay with not having children, but then everyone around them is having babies, they are aware that they’re running out of time, or they realize they agreed to a childless marriage just to keep the relationship going. Maybe they thought stepchildren would fill the space where their own children would be, but they don’t. Am I ringing any bells for people?

Maybe you’re not the one changing your mind. Maybe it’s your partner, who suddenly says he wants kids or that he (or she) has decided he does not want them. He/she cites money, freedom, jobs, age, bla bla bla.

Where once you thought you agreed on this huge decision, you don’t anymore. You had an agreement. You knew what you wanted and were living your life counting on that agreement staying the same. Now what do you do? Do you leave? Do you urge your partner to leave? Do you get counseling to help you accept the unacceptable? This is the heart of the whole childless by marriage concept.

As longtime readers know, this is what happened to me. I stayed. I didn’t have children. I cried where my husband couldn’t see me. I wrote a book about it. He didn’t change his mind. Now I’m a childless widow living with my dog. It’s not as tragic as it sounds. I have a good life, but I still wish I had found a way to become a mother and grandmother and great-grandmother.

I want to share some comments posted at my old Blogger site that you might not otherwise see:

On July 20, Anonymous said…

In my fourth year of marriage, during marriage counseling, my husband told me he never wanted me to have children because of my autoimmune disease. I divorced him because we had agreed on children, we had picked out names. One unsuccessful relationship after another led to me missing my window. I never did get to have a child. But I have a stepson who lost his mother at a young age. We love each other so much. Jumping in as a parent of a teenager is very hard. But to hear him wish me my first happy Mother’s Day was priceless, absolutely priceless. My ex has been married twice after me, and he plans on having children. Sometimes I hate him for what he did to me. But now I have my wonderful stepson whom I never would have met if it wasn’t for my ex. My husband now is pretty awesome, too. I love my boys like crazy. So, happy ending!

Yesterday, Anonymous commented:

I feel like I am the only woman in the world who started out not wanting children, grew to change my mind, and had my husband on several occasions scream at me that I can’t change my mind. He expects me to be around and support all of his friends’ families and every time, I die a little more inside. I am scared for my future, aging, lonely, and just sad I married someone like this.

On July 21, another Anonymous wrote:

I was lucky enough to fall in love in my mid-twenties with a man who, like me, was somewhat leaning against having children. I was pretty sure I didn’t want children, having had, since childhood, a feeling that motherhood probably wasn’t for me. But after we married, I wanted to wait a few years before making a final decision to see if my feelings, or his, would change. They didn’t. What happened next was a series of vivid dreams in which I would inexplicably find myself six or seven months pregnant, too late to change my mind, horrified and terrified, and trying desperately to convince myself that having a baby would be okay while knowing it would not. At least twice I woke up clutching my belly. Husband and self are now in our sixties, happily married and childless. I know that by not having children, we gave up some wonderful things. And I know my sisters will have the support of their children as they age, and I won’t have that special kind of support. But I remain convinced that I made the right decision for me, and my husband feels the same way. My childhood was happy, my mother is warm and wonderful, and I really can’t explain why I knew I didn’t want to become a mother while my sisters wanted to be, and are, great mothers. I do know that especially after those dreams, anyone who might have tried to persuade me to have a baby would not have been successful. To the list of reasons why some people don’t want children, I’d have to add “Unexplainable but extremely strong gut-level knowledge that having children would be a huge mistake.”

Everybody’s different. I thank you all for your comments. Keep them coming. This is one of the few places we can discuss this stuff without judgment, and I appreciate every one of you.

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I apologize for not posting yesterday, my usual day. I work as a music director at our local Catholic church, and we have a new pastor whose changes kept us occupied and mind-blown all day. Basically, he thinks this is a cathedral, not a little coastal church, and he thinks it’s 1950, not 2015. Think Gregorian chant. In Latin. Last Sunday, he gave a little speech on the importance of family that let me know he’s going to make it hard on us childless folks because we failed to reproduce. I can’t wait for Mother’s Day. (Don’t share this blog with him! I need my job. :-))

Don’t hide your childless tears from your partner

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, childless grief, crying over childlessness, husbands who don't want children, running out of time

“My God, I cried and cried reading your post as I sit here in the dark outside grieving for what will never be. I love my partner, and I hate him a little too because he doesn’t want children and I am left bound by that decision. I feel my time running out and wish every single day he would change his mind, but he is unwavering in his decision. And at the same time, I can barely acknowledge this pain and grief to myself because I am terrified of it consuming me. This is the first time I have ever really sat down and let it all wash over me. I can’t stop crying. I don’t know how I am going to walk inside and pretend I’m okay because he doesn’t understand.”

One of my earliest posts, “Are Your Grieving Over Your Lack of Children,” published Nov. 7, 2007, still draws more comments than any other. The comment above is the most recent. It brings back memories for me. I too hid my grief from my husband. I cried in the bathtub, in the car, or in the garage, but not in front of Fred. Oh no. Mustn’t make him feel bad or risk making him mad. But looking back, I think that was wrong. I should have shown how I felt instead of hiding my feelings and hoping some kind of miracle would occur.

I am also bothered by her statement, “I am left bound by that decision.” Is she? It’s so hard to see a situation clearly when we’re in the middle of it. We can’t see any way out. We think we have no options, but we do. To Anonymous, I say reopen the conversation. You can agree to disagree, but don’t hide your feelings. They count as much as his.

I don’t cry all the time anymore. Sometimes I just curse and kick things, but when you’re at the time of life when you see your chances of parenthood disappearing with every passing day, it hurts like hell. Losing your chance to have children is a big loss, and we don’t need to hide it. If people don’t like it, too bad.

I’d love to hear your comments.

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.

True stories of leaving and losing friends

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, losing friends when they have babies, mothers losing friends, My Other Ex, women and friendship

A few months ago, I wrote about a book I’m appearing in called My Other Ex: Women’s True Stories of Leaving and Losing Friends. In that post I talked about losing friends when they have babies and you don’t. You can read that post and the comments here. Several of you offered heartfelt stories about your own experiences.

It’s a big subject. I wrote a whole chapter about it in my Childless by Marriage book, and there’s always more to say about being left out of the Mom Club.

My Other Ex, an anthology of essays by women about friendship,  is coming out next week. The paperback will be released on Sept. 15. You can pre-order the Kindle version right now.

I’m proud to be a voice in this book for those of us who do not have children. Many of the essays included are about motherhood. I wrote about losing a friend when she had children and no longer had time for me. Another essay tells the other side of the story, about moms who are sad to see their childless friends drifting away. I think it’s important to not say, “Well, this book is about mothers, so I don’t want to read it.” Overall, it’s about women and friendship, and that applies to all of us. So read it and let me know what you think.

B is for Baby, the One You May Never Have

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, considering marriage, doomed relationship, he doesn't want children, men who don't want children, she doesn't want children
 Almost every day I receive a comments from readers whose problems are at the very heart of this blog. They are deep into a relationship where they disagree about having children and don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to tell them except that I’m sorry this is happening to them and that they have to decide which is more important to them, the man or woman they love or the babies they might never have if they stay together. It’s an awful decision, along the lines of would you rather be blind or deaf. Neither choice is good.
A post from last year titled, “If you Disagree About Children, is Your Relationship Doomed?” has drawn many of these comments. Click the link to read them all. Meanwhile, here are a few.
“My boyfriend and I have been together for six years and just recently discussed getting engaged within the year. I am 30 and he is 39 and has been married once before. I have never known that I definitely wanted to have kids, but just recently I have been feeling a stronger urge to seriously consider it. My boyfriend just told me that he 100% will not have kids and I need to seriously consider if that is okay with me because he is not “changing his mind.” He is the love of my life, and I would never consider not being with him, but to hear him so vehemently say no to kids made me a little depressed. I am hoping that maybe one day he will consider it or my recently budding baby fever will subside…”
“Hi, I am 42, my husband is 41. We’ve been married for just over five years. I have two grownup children aged 22 & 18 from a previous awful relationship. My husband and I had an incredible marriage. We never argued, always respected each other and loved each other very very deeply. Two months ago, he left me!! He does not want to be 60 and never have become a father. I understand how he feels, but he refuses to acknowledge how I feel. I was a teenage mum and have spent my entire adult life looking after kids, and he wants me to go right back to the beginning and start again. He can’t see what my problem is. He just says I don’t love him enough. If I did, I would make the sacrifice for him. He says that I have “rejected” him. Now I am completely devastated. I can’t eat, sleep and can hardly get up in the morning…”
“I am three weeks down the road of separating from my partner (37) of 4 1/2 years. When we first got together, we both wanted to get married and have four children. After a year we went overseas traveling and he starting saying he didn’t want children. I thought it was because we were traveling and with loads of people in their early 20s. But when we got back, he was still saying that he didn’t want children. I thought he just wasn’t ready, and we kept getting more fur children. Well, after I don’t know how many conversations, he admits that he doesn’t want to be like his dad. It was a look of surprise when it came out of his mouth. He didn’t and still doesn’t have a wonderful relationship with his dad. I just wish he could see himself through my eyes and what a brilliant father he would make. He is wonderful with his niece and nephews. And has so much to offer a child. I just want my life back! And the one we planned….”
 “Together seven years, married for one. He had two kids from his first marriage, I have zero from my first marriage. I have always always always wanted one of my own. I feel ‘broken’ or less whole thinking that he now doesn’t want to have one with me anymore. He said he is just done…”
I have a hard time knowing how to comfort these readers. I hope you can help me help them with your comments here or at the original post. Feel free to tell us about your own situation.
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You might be wondering what the B is for Babies business is about. I am participating this month in the A-to-Z Blog Challenge. Every day except Sunday we will publish new blog posts inspired by the letters of the alphabet. Because I have several blogs, I’m going to make this like a progressive dinner or a scavenger hunt. The alphabet blogs will proceed from A to Z but will dance around among my newsletter (4/1 only) and Unleashed in Oregon, Childless by Marriage, and Writer Aid.More than 1,300 other bloggers have signed up for the challenge. Check out the list at kmdlifeisgood.blogspot.com/p/under-construction.html. You might find some great new blogs to follow. I know I will. Find out what C stands for tomorrow at Unleashed in Oregon.

Jody Day’s book rocks the childless life

Sue Fagalde Lick books about childlessness, childless by circumstance, childless by marriage, childless grief, Gateway-women, Jody Day, non-mothers, Plan B, Rocking the Life Unexpected, UK authors


Jody Day of Gateway-Women.com and I have corresponded off and on over the last few years. We both write about childlessness in our blogs. She lives in the UK, where it really seems as if the conversation about not having children has advanced far beyond that in the United States. When she said she was writing a book, I couldn’t wait to read it, and I was not disappointed.

In Living the Life Unexpected: 12 Weeks to Your Plan B for a Meaningful and Fulfilling Future Without Children, Day offers childless women a way to define what their lives can be without children. If Plan A, to be a mother, didn’t work out, what is Plan B? Day’s Plan B is to write about and create a community to support women who are childless by circumstance–which includes those of us who are childless by marriage. In addition to her blogs and online groups, she hosts gatherings of childless women and 12-week courses to help them find their new path as non-mothers, nomos, as she calls them. If you live in the UK, you can actually meet in person. But if you don’t, you can be with them in spirit through this book.

Day, who is training to be a psychotherapist, tells her own story and provides exercises to help women dig themselves out of their childless grief and discover the new life that is still available to them. Chapters explore family histories, our relationships with our bodies, stereotypes about childless women, our views of ourselves, ways to heal from our grief, and much more. She also includes extensive lists of resources that in themselves are worth the price of the book.

I did get a free copy of the book, but I would recommend it just as highly if I had paid for it. There are lots of books about childlessness on the market these days, but most focus on the joys of the “childfree” life or the sorrows of infertility and don’t get at the things bugging those of us who are childless by circumstance. I hope you’ll read my Childless by Marriage book if you haven’t already, but do read this one, too. It will help, I promise.

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[Sue Fagalde Lick is part of the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. ]

Thinking beyond our childlessness

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, grieving over childlessness, Jody Day, longing for children, Rocking the Life Unexpected, thinking about childlessness, Unleashed in Oregon
https://amzn.to/2VHJVkWSometimes I get tired of thinking about childlessness. I’ve got a million other things on my mind, including nonstop meetings and rehearsals this week, my ongoing struggle to put my water-damaged den back together (see my Unleashed in Oregon blog), my need to practice for two upcoming musical performances, my job playing the piano at church, my dog’s ongoing flea problem, my aging father’s ailments, my best friend’s close call with breast cancer and continuing fight with COPD, missing my dead husband, selling my novel, wondering when I should prune my hydrangeas, the floods in Colorado, the shootings in Washington D.C., the conflicts in the Middle East, why some fools are angry that our new Miss America is of Indian descent, what I’m going to wear to the church fundraiser on Friday night . . .
There’s so much to think about besides the fact that I never had children. I wish I had them. If I could go back and do things differently, I would. I think. I’m not 100 percent sure. Marrying Fred was the best thing that ever happened to me. Losing him was the worst. Not having children is barely a blip in comparison. I want kids. I want grandkids. I want sticky-fingered hugs and kid pictures all over my house. I want somebody to buy toys for and to teach and to love and to watch carry on our family heritage into the future. I want all that. I didn’t get it. It makes me so angry I want to throw things.
But I can’t change it now, and there’s no point in ruining the life I do have because I didn’t get the one I thought I’d have.
Some of these thoughts are coming up because I’m reading Jody Day’s new book Rocking the Life Unexpected: 12 Weeks to Your Plan B for a Meaningful and Fulfiling Life Without Children. It’s a wonderful book that can help women who wanted children and don’t have them to deal with their grief and move on. I will give you a full review as soon as I finish it, but you can order it now.
My dear friends, I hurt for you. I feel your deep pain as you struggle to deal with situations where you feel lost, where you don’t know what to do about your mate who can’t or won’t give you children, where you go nuts when people with children just don’t understand how you feel. I know. I’ve been there. It’s big. It’s huge. It affects your whole life. That’s one of the main things I tried to show in my Childless by Marriage book, that everything is different when you never have children. But there is more to life. And there’s more to you than just the fact that you don’t have children. Think about it.
Group hug?

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[Sue Fagalde Lick is part of the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. ]

‘Otherhood’ and Fifty Ways to Be Childless

Sue Fagalde Lick 50 Ways Not to Be a Mother, Childfree Reflections, childless by marriage, gateway-women.com, Jody Day, Marcia Drut-Davis, Melanie Notkin, Otherhood, Savvy Aunt
Today’s post is a trio of goodies for you:
1. Jody Day at Gateway-Women.com has compiled a wonderful list called “50 Ways Not to Be a Mother—with Apologies to Paul Simon.” It’s amazing how many different ways a person can wind up not having children, a lot of them through absolutely no fault or choice of their own. Me, I seem to fit numbers 9 and 39. Check out the list and see what number fits your situation.
2. Some of those 50 ways deal with not having a suitable partner, which leads me to my second link. Melanie Notkin, author of Savvy Auntie and the accompanying blog, has written a new book called Otherhood: The Unrequited Love Story of Modern Women, which talks about how many of us never find the right partner. As a result, we don’t become parents. It’s due out in February, but you can pre-order it now. Melanie has also written about this at her Huffington Post blog. Read “The Truth About the Childless Life” there.
3. Marcia Drut-Davis, author of a new book titled Confessions of a Childfree Woman: A Life Spent Swimming Against the Mainstream, has a blog called Childfree Reflections, which may offer some comfort to you. The site includes a free resource list, but I must warn you that you have to sign up for the newsletter to get it, and nearly all of the resources are for people who are childfree by choice.
Oh what the heck, I’ll plug my own site. I’ve got a ridiculously long resource list on my Childless by Marriage website, which you can access with no strings. If you’d like to buy my book, I’d be delighted, but the list is my gift to you.
Have a wonderful week.