losing friends when they have babies

“I Chose to Be Childfree. I didn’t think I was choosing isolation, too” 

Sue Fagalde Lick childless feeling left out, losing friends when they have babies, when your best friend gets pregnant , , , , , , , , ,

When writer Cassidy Randall’s friend announced that she was pregnant, Randall felt betrayed. The friend she counted on to join her for spontaneous trips, hikes, concerts, or whatever struck their fancy, would soon join the circle of parents whose lives revolved around their families. 

It wasn’t the first time this had happened. One by one, everyone seemed to be leaving her for the mommy track.

When she chose her childfree life, Randall writes in a Jan. 9 article at The Guardian, “I never consciously chose the tradeoff of categorical exclusion from conversations, gatherings and entire friend circles.” 

For those of us who are also single, I think we feel the same kind of loss when our partnerless friends find someone and become unavailable. Suddenly, it’s “Sorry, X and I have plans” or “Sorry, his kids are coming over.” While we’re glad they’re happy, we feel abandoned. You thought you were partners in non-parenting, and suddenly you’re on the outside looking in. 

Randall suffered from endometriosis. When she had surgery for it, the doctor asked if she’d like him to remove her fallopian tubes, too, since she didn’t plan to have children. She told him to go ahead, not realizing this choice would set her apart for the rest of her life. 

Parents are linked by school and after-school events. They meet for playdates, birthday parties, or just to chat about mutual concerns.  I remember the years when most of our church choir had young kids. I often found myself left out of the conversations as they discussed soccer or swim events, shared rides, frustrations with particular teachers, religious education, etc. They were not even aware of me loitering nearby, not sure whether to butt in or just go home. 

Now, we have more in common because their kids are grown. I only feel left out when they start sharing the grandbaby photos. I try to fit in with pictures of my great nieces and nephews, but it’s not the same.

Randall did not want to lose her friends, so she tried to keep in touch. When a friend who usually turned down her invitations was finally able to go skiing with her, the friend thanked her for the invitation and for not giving up. She was glad to know there was still life outside of parenting. 

Years ago, I published an essay in an anthology called My Other Ex, about women’s friendships breaking up. I had lost a friend who became so obsessed with her kids she didn’t seem to see me, even when I was in the same room. Before she had children, we worked together, turning out articles for a local newspaper, and had lots of fun outside of work. She was a bridesmaid for my second wedding. But then the babies came. After one too many times being ignored, I gave up.

Many years later, I don’t know where she is or what she’s doing. The boys must be grown by now. With the maturity of age and having been a caregiver for my parents and my husband, I understand she had no choice back then. Caring for little kids takes all of your attention, time, and energy. You can’t just put them in the yard like a puppy. But when the kids go to school and get old enough to look away for a while, your friends have more time for you, if you stick around. 

Parenting is often said to be the most important job there is. I don’t have to be a parent to see that. But how do we fit into the picture without feeling completely isolated? 

I have no perfect answers. When my friends and family were having babies, I mostly shied away. But I do have some suggestions:

  • Don’t take offense because they’re too busy to socialize with you. They just can’t right now. 
  • Instead of focusing on your own lack of children, take an interest in theirs. Join their activities when you can. Cheer at their soccer games, go with them to Chuck E. Cheese, or watch a child-friendly movie together. You can bring the popcorn. 
  • Offer to help, even to babysit if you’re comfortable with that.
  • Keep in touch. Invite them out or ask if you can come over. If they say no, try to understand. Someday, they might say yes.
  • A “how are you doing?” text or a bouquet of flowers might make their day.
  • Help them buy gifts for their kids. Sit with them at the hospital if a child is hurt or take care of the healthy siblings. Help pick up the Legos. Bring food so they don’t have to cook.
  • Instead of feeling betrayed and left out, expand your friendship into honorary aunthood. Expand your two-some to include the mate and kids.  

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, the saying goes.

I know it’s hard. It might be too painful to be around children when you can’t have any of your own. A good friend will understand that. Maybe you can Facetime while the kids are napping or arrange a “playdate” for just you and your friend. Sometimes you are going to be left out, no matter what you do or say, because you don’t have children. Our lives are different; it can’t be helped. We may have to make new friends. But we can at least be open to staying connected. 

Enough from me. When do you feel most isolated, especially among people who have children? How do you react? Do you have any advice for how to deal with this?

Feel free to share stories of times when you felt especially left out or to disagree with my suggestions. 

Anything that makes us different, including childlessness, age, disability, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and so many other things, can divide us. I feel that way not only because I’m childless but because I’m widowed and live alone. I write about it at my Substack “Can I Do It Alone?” My main goal there, as for everything I write, is to build community and to shine a light on what our lives are like.  

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Childless Travel Robert Frost’s ‘Road Less Traveled By’

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness, choosing a childless life, losing friends when they have babies, when your best friend gets pregnant , , , , , , ,
Metal gate in foreground blocks access to rutted road surrounded by trees going off into the distance.

Yesterday was Halloween. I imagine it was a busy day for people with children. Moms and dads would be dealing with costumes, candy, parties and trick-or-treating while their excited kids drove them crazy. Me, I put on my orange sweatshirt and pumpkin earrings and settled in for an ordinary day. I have no children, and we don’t get trick-or-treaters out here in the woods.

Halloween is just one example of how parents and non-parents live in different worlds. The differences are small at first, but they grow exponentially over the years.

We all start out as young people whose lives revolve around family, school, hobbies, friends, sports, jobs, and maybe church. But we grow up. We pair off. When your friends, siblings, and cousins have children, suddenly their lives revolve around their offspring because the little ones need constant attention. Hobbies, social life, and friends fall away.

Meanwhile, you’re still busy with school, work, hobbies, and relationships. Instead of caring for children, maybe you travel, build or remodel a house, or study for a master’s degree or PhD. You try to socialize with your old friends, but they’re busy with their kids. They have new friends, friends who are also parents.

You get older. At your high school reunions, the others talk about their children and grandchildren. They brag about their kids’ marriages and their jobs and commiserate about their problems. You talk about your work, hobbies, and travel. All you have in common is fading memories of your school days and worries about your aging parents.

In old age, your parents are gone. No younger generation is coming up behind you. Your family is shrinking. Your parent friends send Christmas cards filled with news about their growing tribe of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. You send a photo of your dog or cat. If you meet these friends at a reunion or a funeral, you have nothing to talk about.

Yes, there comes a time when the kids are grown and you can come together with the parent people again, but their family will always be their top priority. At times, you will envy them and grieve for what you have missed. At other times, you will relish the freedom that allows you to be more than “Grandma” or “Nana.” You are still a full-fledged person with your own name and dreams that you are still chasing. Do they envy you? Sometimes I’m sure they do.

You live in different realities now. You can visit, but the bridge between worlds is a shaky one.

If you are still deciding whether or not to have children, consider how your life will take a different path. It’s not necessarily better or worse, but it is different, and the distance between the two ways your life could have gone will get wider and wider.  

Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” ends with these lines:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Have you seen the divide happening in your own life as friends and family become parents and you don’t? What do you think about all this? I welcome your comments.

Photo taken on Thiel Creek Road, South Beach, Oregon, copyright Sue Fagalde Lick 2015

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When Your Friends Talk Nonstop About Their Kids . . .

Sue Fagalde Lick friends busy with children, friends flaunting baby pictures, friends who don't understand, losing friends when they have babies, people talking about their babies. when friends have babies and you don't, Sex and the City, the mom club , ,

In the Jan. 6 episode of the new Sex and the City series on HBO Max, Miranda’s professor, Nya, and her husband have been struggling to have a baby. Their attempts at IVF have failed and they are taking a break. It’s a painful subject. The last thing they want to talk about is babies. But when they go out to dinner with another couple, their friends can’t stop talking about their children. Every time the professor tries to steer the conversation to other subjects, it always comes right back to the kids. It turns out their friends are pregnant with yet another child. More baby talk. This parent couple, totally clueless about what the professor and her husband have been going through, keep bugging them about why they don’t have kids yet and how they won’t know real love until they have them.

At The Childless Life Facebook group recently, a long discussion centered on the problem of not being able to talk to your friends once they have children. Suddenly, former best friends have nothing to say to each other.

Ah, the mom club. Their lives are wrapped around their kids, and yours isn’t, so it becomes difficult to have a conversation about anything else. You feel abandoned and left out. Dads do it, too, but not as much.

I still remember when the moms in the church choir would gather to talk about their kids and school stuff and I was suddenly outside the circle with nothing to do but sort sheet music. Some of these moms are now obsessed with their grandchildren, so it’s still not a good fit, but others have come out of the mommy cloud.

Not long ago, I had a great exchange with a female friend about football. Did you see the game yesterday? How could he have missed that kick? Etc. Yes, girls can talk about football. This friend has children, and she’s about to move away from here to go live with them, but they’re all grown up, and she has plenty else to talk about, especially when her Kansas teams are playing. Maybe the key is just to wait it out. Someday the kids will be gone, and your friends will rediscover that there are other things in the world.

But that’s a long time to wait. Meanwhile, what can you do?

  • You can just try to be interested in your friends’ families and join the conversation as much as you are able, even though you don’t have your own children to talk about. Talk about your nieces and nephews or other kids in your life. Remember your own childhood. Smile. Pet the dog. Excuse yourself to go home early.
  • You can seek out other childless people with whom you share other interests, whether it’s a book club, yoga class, softball team, writers group, or whatever. They might have children, but you have this other thing in common.
  • You can keep trying to direct your parent friends’ attention to things other than babies, to remind them that they need to hold onto the person they were before the little ones took over their lives.

I understand how children can become the main thing parents think and talk about and how they would gravitate toward other parents. I was that way about my puppies when Annie and her brother were small. Annie s still a central concern, and I enjoy a good conversation about dogs. But the best way to be a friend is to take a genuine interest in your friend’s concerns, whether it be babies, cooking, or working out at the gym.

If you’re at the age where most of your friends are having babies, try to be interested in their families, but also insist that they listen to you when you talk about what’s on your mind. Maybe they don’t even realize they’re obsessing until you point it out. Or maybe you’ll need to find other friends until the kids are at least in kindergarten.

How do you deal with friends who can’t talk about anything but their children? Do you have any advice on how to handle it? I welcome your comments.

***

Good news. The pathology report on my dog Annie’s tumor said she does not have cancer. It’s a bloody ugly thing and we’re still dealing with the big collar, but after the vet cuts out the tumor, we should be able to go on with our lives. Thank you for all your loving comments of concern last week.

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What happens when one of us has a baby?

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Dear friends,

Thank you for your wonderful responses to last week’s post when I asked you to share what brought you to the Childless by Marriage blog and to describe your situation. What a great group we have here, and I’m so grateful if this blog helps even a little.

It’s a diverse group. Some are married, some are single. Some have fertility problems while others are healthy, but they aren’t sure they want to have children. Many are married or engaged to men who have already had children and don’t want any more. Those men have often had vasectomies, making it difficult to change their minds. Some talk of adoption, fertility treatments or vasectomy reversals, while others like “Oh Well” are just trying to accept a life without children. You can read all of the comments here.

One commenter, Jennifer, tells a happy-ending story in which she finally convinced her husband to have his vasectomy reversed. Now they have a baby girl. She said she will probably unsubscribe from the blog soon.

So I have a question for you. I know that most of us are struggling with the idea that we will never have children. But if one of us does have a child, do you think that disqualifies her from participating in Childless by Marriage? She knows how it felt to be childless and fear she would never have children. I think we should celebrate with her. What do you think?

I know that many of you are uncomfortable being around happy parents and children because it reminds you of what you don’t have. Also, too many parents become so obsessed with their children they forget their childless friends exist. They make new friends with people who have kids. I hate that, even though I understand how children can take over a person’s life.

But our friends are still our friends. Way back when my best friend Sherri had her one and only child, we were both already in our mid-30s. I knew she went through a lot to become a mother. She never made me feel left out. We have never stopped being friends, and I’m glad to know her daughter.

So this week’s question: What happens to our friendships, online or in real life when our friend becomes a parent and we’re still childless? Please share your opinions and experiences in the comments. If men are out there reading this, please join the conversation and feel free to comment on past posts, too.

 

 

 

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.

Have you lost friends because you don’t have children?

Sue Fagalde Lick anthology about women's friendships, best friends, BFF, childless left out, Her Story Project, losing friends when they have babies, My Other Ex, when your best friend gets pregnant

Yesterday I received the welcome news that an essay I wrote about losing a close friend when she became obsessed with her babies will be published in an upcoming anthology about women and lost friendships. They’re calling it My Other Ex: Women’s True Stories of Leaving and Losing Friends. I like the title. For me and I suspect for many other women, my best friend growing up was like a spouse. We did everything together, spent all our time together, called each other on the phone five minutes after we got home. In many ways, our relationship was as intimate as a marriage. But sometimes when we grow up, life takes us in other directions.

Actually, my childhood best friend, Sherri, is still my best friend, even though she had the audacity to move to Texas. Whenever we call, we pick up right where we left off. The fact that she has a daughter has done nothing to interrupt that friendship.

It was different with the woman I wrote about for the anthology. We met as young adults. We worked together and we hung out together in our spare time. We looked so much alike people thought we were sisters. When we met, she was married but didn’t have any children. I was recently divorced. We were so close that I asked her to be my matron of honor for my second wedding. But then she started having babies. She quit her job to become a full-time mommy. Suddenly we didn’t speak the same language. We tried for a while, but our friendship faded away. I hate that.

These days I have other friends who have children. On Memorial Day, a friend invited me to her house for a potluck. All afternoon, the center of attention was a six-month-old baby girl, and much of the conversation focused on the other women’s children. I didn’t have much to say. Nobody asked about my children, which is good because then I’d have to say I didn’t have any and there’d be that awkward thud in the conversation. Luckily we also talked about a lot of other things, but it always came back to that baby. And why not? She was fascinating. I like all these people and I plan to continue hanging out with them, sharing our love of music, dogs, and life in Oregon. But I’m older and wiser than I was when my lost friend was having her baby boys. I know that sometimes we are not going to connect because I don’t have any experience with babies, and we just have to work around it.

Interestingly, another woman wrote an essay for the anthology from the other point of view. She was the one who had a baby and lost her friend because of it. I’m looking forward to reading what she wrote.

The book is coming out in September. For information, visit http://www.herstoriesproject.com.

Meanwhile, I have a question for you. Have you lost friends because one of you had children and the other didn’t? Please share your stories in the comments.