menopause for childless women

The Big Change Nobody Wants to Talk About

Sue Fagalde Lick infertility, Jody Day, menopause, menopause for childless women , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Menopause. The big bugaboo people don’t talk about except to make hot flash jokes. 

The deadline that looms for those desperately trying to get pregnant before they run out of time.

The end of worry for those who fear getting pregnant when they don’t want a children (or another child).

The Childless Elderwomen met last Saturday, and we talked about it in depth. We could have gone on for hours. We may not usually discuss it with anyone but our doctors, but judging by the more than 100 questions that our host Jody Day received beforehand, people are interested and anxious about it. 

Our panel ranged in age from 49 to 79, from Catherine-Emanuelle Delisle, who went into early menopause at age 14, to Maria Hill and I, for whom it has been decades since our period. Others are still dealing with the effects.

For all women, the arrival of the monthly period, the sloughing off of the lining of the uterus that was prepared for a possible baby, signals that they are not pregnant. For some, that’s a relief because a baby was the last thing they wanted, at least then in their current life situation. For those who wanted to be pregnant, it can be a mild disappointment or a crushing blow, depending on how long they have been trying and how difficult it has been. It’s a reminder that another month has passed, their attempts have failed, and at some point, their fertile years will be over. 

It can be hard, but it’s not the end of the world. In fact, as writer and life coach Maria Hill said, “Once you hit menopause, you’re really starting to come into your own.” Others put it more bluntly. We reach the point in life we were give far fewer “fucks” about things that don’t matter. 

Yes, the end of your monthly cycles means you will not be able to give birth, but it also ends the pressure to keep trying. It allows you to move on.

The preparation phase of menopause, called perimenopause, is a drag. Periods come and go willy-nilly, heavy one time, light the next, one after another, or with big gaps when you think maybe it’s over and then it’s not. You may suffer from hot flashes, weight gain, vaginal dryness, and mood swings, but when it’s over, ahhhhh. 

Imagine life with no more cramps, no more PMS, no more pads or tampons, and no more birth control. I’m here to tell you it’s nice. 

In our talk, we discussed sex, physical changes that come with aging, feeling invisible, and especially to men. We touched on hormones and other options for dealing with the discomforts of perimenopause and menopause. I won’t lie. Some people have a hard time.

But we also talked about feeling like we have a fresh start, almost as if we are back to being the girls we were before puberty. We have a better perspective on what matters. We can spread our maternal energy in many directions. In other words, life is not over. 

My own menopause occurred at the same time I was dealing with my mother’s death, my husband’s dementia, and my own bouts with Graves’ disease, a hyperthyroid disorder. I was also in grad school. It was hard to distinguish menopause from everything else.

My male doctors wanted me to take hormones. I’m afraid some OB-Gyns are only interested in patients who are having babies. Menopause? Give them a pill and send them out the door. I insisted on doing it naturally. There’s no shame in taking hormones or trying natural therapies for your symptoms, but if your doc refuses to listen to what you want to do, find another one.

Menopause happens at different times for different people. Catherine was a teenager. Stella Duffy menopaused early as a result of cancer treatment. For many, the signs of impending menopause may begin in their 40s and conclude around 50, but it varies. My mother claimed to still have hot flashes in her 70s. However it happens, you deal with it and go on. Life is not over. In many ways, you are entering a newer, freer phase of life.

Btw, your sex drive will not go away. With your periods over, you may feel lustier than ever. Just sayin’.

Jody asked us what we would say to our younger selves about menopause if we could. I said I would tell her that the lead-up is annoying, but menopause is good. You get yourself back again after being controlled by your ovaries all these years. You are not old and dried up. You are still a strong and powerful woman.

I say the same thing to you. There may be some turbulence along the way, but you’ll arrive at a better, calmer place. You go through the bloody fertility tunnel and come out the other side. Without a baby, yes, but you do come out, and it’s all right here in menopause land. 

For men reading this, don’t feel left out. Understand that menopause is like going through puberty in reverse. If someone you love is going through it, know it won’t last forever. She’s still the same person she always was. Offer hugs, bubble baths and chocolate, along with air conditioning or a big fan. 

Enjoy the video posted above. About halfway in, I share something I have never told anybody. I’m embarrassed, but someone had to say it. Check it out.

Your turn

  • Does it offend you that I’m writing about this?
  • Have you gone through menopause? How was it?
  • How do you feel about the end of your fertile years?
  • What does having no more periods mean to you, whether you’re looking back or looking ahead to the future?
  • What would you say about it to your younger self?

Four posts to go before I stop posting regularly and move on to other things. What would you like to read here?

If you want to know what I’m up to these days, visit my “Can I Do It Alone?” Substack at https://suelick.substack.com or friend me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/suelick. 

Will You Ever Find Peace with Your Childlessness? 

Sue Fagalde Lick "get over it", accepting a life without children., childless grief, infertility, menopause for childless women, regret, regret not having children , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Facing a future with no children used to drive me crazy. Back when I was fertile and married to a man who was not, I cried a lot, mostly where he couldn’t see me. I resented my friends whose lives revolved around their kids. I did not want to hear their happy stories or look at their pictures. Baby showers? What do I know about babies? Count me out.

As far as I knew, there was nothing wrong with my baby-making parts, but they were being wasted, evidenced by painful periods every month, reminders I was running out of time. 

Now I’m 72, childless and widowed. Although being alone can be difficult, I have to tell you that I don’t think about childlessness all the time anymore. If you are in your 20s, 30s, or early 40s, feeling bad because you wanted children and might never have even one baby, know that it does get easier. Like any loss, it doesn’t go away, but you do learn to live with it. 

Yes, you will feel breakthrough grief and anger. You’ll see a family at play or hold someone else’s baby and think I could have had that, but as you get older, it will become a less important feature in your life. You will wonder who will care for you in old age, but know that even if you had children, they might not be available to help.

When you’re surrounded by people getting married and having babies, you feel excluded, jealous, and angry at whatever keeps you from having the children you always wanted. Or you resent the people who keep pushing you to have the children you never wanted. You’ll regret it, they warn. What if they’re right? It can be a brutal time. 

The night before my 40th birthday, I had a meltdown that I describe in my Childless by Marriage book. At a Catholic women’s retreat, everyone was talking about their kids. Our guided meditation put me face to face with what I had lost, and it felt unbearable. As the women running the retreat held me, I sobbed in front of everyone. I felt broken. It didn’t help that I really wanted a drink, and there was no alcohol around.

But as I approached menopause, so many other things took my attention. My writing career was taking off. I was performing music almost every weekend. I earned my long-delayed master’s degree. We moved from San Jose, California to Oregon and experienced a very different life in a small coastal town.

My mother died, my husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and my father needed lots of help before he passed away. You hear about the “sandwich generation,” about people caught between caring for their children and caring for their parents. Without children, we can be open-faced sandwiches, helping our older relatives without neglecting our children. 

By my 50s, people stopped bugging me about having kids, and my friends were free to do non-kid activities again. Yes, the grandchildren came, but that was an off and on thing. We could still be friends.

Do I wish I was a grandmother? Sometimes. but childlessness is not at the front of my mind anymore. I took a different path, and it’s too late to turn back.

With every choice, you lose the chance to pursue the other option. By moving to Oregon, we lost the chance to grow old in San Jose, closer to family and so many resources that don’t exist here. If I had married someone else or not married at all, my story would be different. You choose one road and let the other one go.

I can torture myself by imagining what it would be like to have children, how they would look, what we would do together, how I would hold my grandbabies in my arms. But my life didn’t go that way, and I suspect that’s how it was meant to be. 

Not having children has given me the gift of great gobs of time that mothers don’t always have. Time and freedom. I don’t have to find a babysitter or take a kid with me if I decide I want to go to lunch, take a walk on the beach, or spend the night elsewhere. I just go. 

Would I trade my freedom for a walk on the beach with my son or daughter, maybe with their children splashing in the surf or building sandcastles? In a heartbeat. But that’s not on the menu for me. And I’m 80 percent okay with it.  

Maybe you’re at that age when becoming a parent would still be possible under other current circumstances and you’re driving yourself crazy trying to decide what to do: Leave your partner in the hope of finding someone who will give you kids? Try IVF? Hire a surrogate? Adopt? You may fight with your partner over it and cry a lot.

I know how bad it hurts. I’m saying that later it will be easier. Childlessness will not be the center of your life, and that makes room for other things, wonderful things. 

That’s not nothing.

How about you? Are you going crazy over being childless? Do you regret the choices that led you to be without children? Did you have a choice? Do you think you will ever be okay with it? Or are you fine with it now? Have you found peace with your situation? How?

I’m great-grandmother old. Tell me how it is for you at whatever age you are.

I welcome your comments.

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Wise words for women without children

Sue Fagalde Lick cancer risks of childless women, Christiane Northrup, menopause for childless women, mommymystic, rebirthing, women's energy bodies

“Birthing is in every cell of you. You do not have to have a baby to experience the essence of you.” Dr. Christiane Northrup, author of the fabulous Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom, said that on public TV last week. I was in a hotel room in Washington state, using the TV for background noise as I got dressed. Suddenly my ears perked up. What did she say? Hey. Northrup also stressed that the world needs its childless “aunties” for the all things they do.

Northrup, who is in her 50s, often talks about rebirthing and the opportunity women have after menopause to create themselves anew. For childless women, we find some peace because our body has ended the debate on whether or not we should have children. The issue is settled. Certainly it’s that way for me. Oh, I still wish I had kids and grandkids. I still ache for the loss, but it’s easier to accept because there’s nothing I can do about it. I must live the life I have.

In some ways, not having children can be a blessing. Yesterday I came across a fabulous post called “Women’s Energy Bodies–Phases and Life Cycles.” In it, blogger “mommymystic” describes the phases of a woman’s life from a yoga point of view. She includes motherhood but also discusses the role of the mature childfree woman. ” . . . In many religous traditions, a woman’s spiritual worth seems to be equated with motherhood. Those who put this forth seem to be forgetting that most of the better known mystics in all religious traditions, male or female, have not had families . . . ”

Read the whole post and be inspired.