painful reasons for being childless

Politicians trot out their families while we remain childless

Sue Fagalde Lick painful reasons for being childless, people who don't understand childless, Reasons not to have children , , , , , , , , , , ,

On Monday, some of us watched the second inauguration of President Donald Trump. A lot of my friends chose to do other things, but it’s history, so I watched.

Trump has a huge family, five grown children and their spouses and ten grandchildren, who all kind of look like him. Clearly, he has no problems with fertility. He preaches the gospel of family, although one has to wonder how involved he actually was when they were growing up. In addition to his wives, he had the means to hire paid help and send the kids to private school.

Good for him. Really. But what about single mothers who can’t afford day care, private school or even a decent car? The couples who spend years trying unsuccessfully to conceive? The unmarried veteran living in a crummy apartment because he/she can’t afford a house?

Trump’s vice president, JD Vance, showed off his own beautiful family. He’s the guy who said childless cat ladies have less of a stake in the future than women with kids.

It might be hard for those guys to understand why so many young people are not having children these days, why twenty percent of American women reach menopause without becoming mothers.

Yes, some choose a childfree life. That is and should be their right. Every child growing up should know they don’t have to be parents. They can choose other paths. And if they want to be parents but can’t for some reason, their lives are not over. It’s okay to embrace a Plan B, as Jody Day says, despite Russia’s new law against preaching the possibilities of lives without children.

Many of us grew up expecting to be parents, but it didn’t happen. We don’t hate kids. We’re not selfish or immature. But for some reason, we are childless. We grieve the loss of the families we don’t have.

Maybe we are physically unable to conceive or to carry a baby to term. Maybe we or our partners suffer from illnesses we don’t want to pass on to a new generation. Maybe we love someone who is unable or unwilling, and we choose love over children. Maybe we’re gay and have not been able to adopt or get pregnant with medical assistance. Maybe we’re trying to finish our education, pay off our student loans, establish our careers, and, by some miracle, be able to afford to buy a house. Maybe the state of the world is so frightening to us that we don’t want to bring new lives into it, especially when we might not be around when it hits the fan.

Some of us are terrified that the fertility assistance we count on to create a family will become unobtainable under the new administration.

Our leaders need to know these things. They know the birthrate is falling, but they also need to understand why and to help where they can with the financial burden, childcare, healthcare, insurance, and a big dollop of open-mindedness.

They may be no more clueless than your Uncle Joe or the ex-friend who doesn’t understand why you hate baby showers, but they have the power to change our lives in both good and bad ways, so they need to know.  

I don’t know which side of the political spectrum you fall on. However you voted, it’s a done deal now. Perhaps we should write to our legislators and even the president to make them more aware of our needs. Perhaps we should look for candidates who don’t have typical families, so we can show that you don’t have to have a traditional spouse and 2.5 children to be a leader. Or maybe we just need to be more courageous in talking about our situations instead of trying to hide or pretend we’re not childless. It is all right to say to anyone anywhere, “I don’t have children, and here is why.”

What do you think? Let’s talk. Keep it civil. I will not approve mean-spirited political posts about Trump or any other politicians. Readers in other countries, feel free to chime in. Do your leaders understand about childlessness?

BTW, is the .5 child the dog?

If you’re thoroughly sick of politics, visit my “Can I Do It Alone?” Substack, where we have been discussing the challenges of cooking for one person. When in doubt, let’s eat.

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Childless? It Could Be Worse

Sue Fagalde Lick painful reasons for being childless, sad stories of childlessness

Sometimes when I’m talking to other childless women, I feel lucky. Sure, I don’t have children and I wish I did, but my reasons for being without children are so much more benign than they could be. That became clear as I interviewed people for my Childless by Marriage book.

For example, Mindy from Arizona said she had a horrible childhood. Her mother was a monster, and she decided she  never wanted to bring a child into this messed-up world. She went into early menopause after being treated for breast cancer, so she couldn’t have a child even if she wanted to.
Karen, also from Arizona, had a premature baby who died at birth. It was so awful she didn’t ever want to risk going through that again.
Jan, a retired teacher from Colorado, had gonorrhea that was misdiagnosed and untreated for years, scarring her fallopian tubes. Later, she had a hysterectomy. In their late 40s, she and her husband briefly considered adopting a special needs child but decided they didn’t want to start a family that late in life.
Another woman with rheumatoid arthritis has been so crippled most of her life that not only did she not feel able to have a child but she couldn’t find a man willing to deal with her handicap.
Many woman have had abortions. Many have been nagged and harassed by their families. Many hate their mothers. Some have husbands who drink or abuse them. Others struggle with mental illness and fear they would pass it on to their children. And of course, many couples try and try to have a baby, only to have their hearts broken when they can’t get pregnant or they suffer one miscarriage after another.
In comparison, I was blessed. My mother, God rest her soul, was a saint. She loved me unconditionally and supported me in my choices. I know she would have loved to be a grandmother. When I think about what it would have been like to see her holding my child, I weep. But she never pressured me about having children.
My family did not abuse or misuse me. My ex-husband may not have loved me the way I wanted, but he was civil. So far, I have not had cancer or other horrible illnesses. I get along with my stepchildren and their mother reasonably well, especially compared to what I hear about other families. I was blessed with a loving husband, a good home, enough money, health insurance, friends, work I love, and faith. I wish I had children, but still, I have to remember how lucky I am.
When you get to feeling down, stop thinking about what you don’t have and focus on what you DO have. I know it’s hard, but it really helps. And if you have a painful story you want to tell, we’re here to listen and care.