talking about having kids

Are We Avoiding the Tough Childless Conversations?

Sue Fagalde Lick Gateway-woman, Jody Day, partners who don't want children, Sue Fagalde Lick, talking about having kids , , , , , , , ,

My new book, a memoir titled No Way Out of This: Loving a Partner with Alzheimer’s, came out on Tuesday. 

Publicity is a big part of publishing a book. I have been doing interviews and podcasts, including an interview yesterday online with the marvelous Jody Day, founder of Gateway Women. I hope you will watch the recording and consider buying my book.

See what I just did? Marketing. But that’s not what I want to discuss today. Reviewers and interviewers frequently bring up my childless situation and how Fred didn’t want to have children with me. Some make him sound like a selfish person who didn’t care about me, and that’s not fair. He was terrific. But he was older and had already raised three children. At 48, he didn’t want to start again. I understand that now. 

But we didn’t talk about it nearly as much as we should have. Our June 19 Childless Elderwomen panel discussion, also led by Jody Day, was about “Courageous Conversations” and how we often shy away from discussing tough topics with family and friends. One of those conversations I dodged was the one with Fred about having children. When he said he didn’t want any more children, I said, “You don’t?” and pretty much let it go. 

I had been divorced for several years, dated some unsuitable men who would have happily impregnated me, and finally decided I would be alone forever. Then came Fred. Our love was so good I didn’t want to do anything to spoil it. He knew I had not had children. We talked about adoption. We talked about reversing his vasectomy. But when he said he didn’t want any more children, the conversation ended. 

Why didn’t I ask why? Why didn’t I insist that I have my own chance at motherhood? Why didn’t I make it a dealbreaker? Because I was afraid to lose him. Now, so many years later, I suspect that if I had insisted, he would have given in. I don’t know how we would have done it, but we would have. He paid for my master’s degree. He paid for our trip to Portugal so I could research my book. He spoiled me rotten. I know he felt bad when I grieved on Mother’s Day. But he didn’t offer to make me a mom, and I didn’t insist. 

Even if he hadn’t had a vasectomy, I don’t know if he could have gotten me pregnant. His first two kids were adopted. It took Fred and his first wife 17 years to have a surprise baby of their own. Then he rushed into a vasectomy. I should have asked a lot more about their troubles conceiving and pressed harder to find out why he didn’t want more kids. I should have asked why he spent so little time with the kids he had. He didn’t seem to want to talk about any of it, but we needed to. Maybe we would have reached the same conclusion, but I would have felt better about it. 

I also needed to have a talk with myself. I was so busy defending my childlessness to the world. We couldn’t have children. God had other plans. Maybe later. Why did I accept not having children so easily? If any man had asked me to give up my writing or my music, I would have left him. Was having children less important to me than I have always said? Why does that make me feel like I might have been faking it all these years?

I don’t think I realized what I was giving up. I was so busy with work, music, school, and homemaking. Only with the passing of years and life stages has it become clear what I missed. It’s not just babies. It’s young children, older children, teens, young adults, mature adults, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, weddings, graduations, babies, Christmas presents, family gatherings, someone to watch fireworks with on Fourth of July, someone to help me when I need help, and someone to inherit my culture and my grandmother’s china teacups. Now, 40 years after that no-kids pronouncement, I know I should have pursued it more. Everything might have been different.  

I did not have the conversations I should have had. It’s hard. Partners sometimes get angry, or clam up, or start to cry. I grew up learning to avoid conflict. As soon as the conversation got hot, I backed off. It’s a learned skill to speak our truths calmly and lovingly. 

Perhaps you could say, “I know you have said x, but I need you to understand that I feel z. I’m trying to understand what’s holding you back. Can we talk about this a little more? Maybe if we talked it through, we could reach an agreement that will make us both happy.”  Maybe sharing a bottle of wine would help ease the tension. 

What do you think? Are you avoiding difficult conversations? What would happen if you kept talking?  Have you tried? What happened? 

Let’s talk about talking about it. I look forward to your comments. 

(Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Pexels.com)

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

How Do You Talk About the Baby Thing Without a Fight?

Sue Fagalde Lick books, talking about having kids, when couples disagree about having children , , , , , , , , , ,

Last week I told you about the book I was reading, Scarlet Feather by Maeve Binchy. Cathy’s husband Neil had announced he didn’t want any children. In fact, he insisted they had agreed on that. No, they hadn’t. She was willing to wait a few years, but she did expect to have children eventually.

What happened? She got pregnant. He was furious. He wanted her to have an abortion. What happened to his belief in a woman’s right to choose, she asked. She chose not to terminate the pregnancy.  

At 14 weeks, she had a miscarriage. Her husband tried not to be smug about it, but he was clearly relieved. What about future babies? Well, by then, their marriage was falling apart. The baby issue wasn’t the only one where he made rulings instead of asking what she wanted. By the end, they couldn’t have a civil conversation.

Finally, trying to save the marriage, he said, okay, you can have a baby. But it was too late. Cathy left him. He took a job in Africa that he had wanted all along. Meanwhile, Cathy’s work partner Tom had dumped his girlfriend. Soon he and Cathy were getting cozy. They will probably get married and have a dozen kids who will all grow up to work in their catering business.

But this is fiction. Cathy left the guy who didn’t want kids and fell into a relationship with the real Mr. Right, who can’t wait to be a dad. I suppose it could happen. But can we count on it?

For hundreds of pages, Cathy and Neil couldn’t seem to talk about their issues. They were both too busy at work, and neither one wanted to risk an argument. So Neil assumed they were on the same page about kids when they weren’t. Cathy was afraid to stand up for her right to be a mom. When she got pregnant, she put off telling him until people were starting to guess. There were so many issues where he wanted A and she wanted B, and neither would compromise. He didn’t respect her work, and she didn’t trust him not to cheat on her. They kept saying they loved each other, but was that enough? Not for Cathy and Neil.

What lessons can we learn here? Couples have to talk about the important issues. Even if it’s difficult, even if the other person keeps changing the subject, even if you’re both so busy you can’t see straight, you have to have do it. That includes discussing whether or not you will have children and when, what you will do if the woman falls pregnant when it’s not planned, and what you will do if you have trouble getting pregnant. I know it’s hard. Some people clam up when it comes to feelings and touchy issues, but it has to be addressed. This applies to living arrangements, work, and other big choices, too. When you’re a couple, one person is not supposed to make all the decisions.

How do you do it? People don’t react well to ultimatums or whining or accusations. Perhaps it’s a matter of asking questions and really listening to the answers. Why is this so important to you? What are you afraid of? Could you give in on this issue because it’s so important to me? In some cases, an intermediary, a counselor, a priest, a friend, might be needed. But I would hope if you’re really in love, you can find a way to have those important talks and check back in occasionally to see whether you both still feel the same way. Don’t be like Cathy and Neil. Find the time to talk.

Some helpful websites:

“How the 5-5-5 Method Helps Married Couples Work Through Conflict”

“10 Tips for Resolving Relationship Conflicts”

“7 Ways Happy Couples Deal with Disagreements Differently”

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Want a baby? Don’t want a baby? Just say it!

Sue Fagalde Lick babies on TV, talking about having kids , , , , , , ,

I’m watching Season 3 of “Virgin River” on Netflix. If these people could just communicate with each other, they would have no problems. Example (I hope I’m not spoiling anything): In an episode I watched last night, Mel (short for Melanie) tells her boyfriend Jack that she really wants to have a baby. They’re in bed at the time. He gets all bug-eyed like this is a big surprise, even though she melts over every baby she sees and she bursts into tears when a friend sends her a picture of her pregnant sonogram. Surely men aren’t that clueless.

Anyway, what does Jack say? He could say, “Okay, let’s a have a baby,” “I look forward to having kids together, but let’s get married first,” or “I’m so sorry, but I really don’t see children in my future.” Or something. He says, “I’ll have to think about it.” Mel goes on to say that she knows she can’t be happy if she never becomes a mother. “I need some time to think about it,” he repeats. Then he says, “I love you.” She says, “I love you” back. He says, “Good night.” She says, “Good night.” And they roll over with their backs to each other. The camera focuses on the sparkle of tears in her eyes. End scene.

Subsequently, Jack complains to his friend that Mel wants to have a baby and he’s feeling trapped. Mel tells her friends that she said this thing about wanting a baby and hopes she didn’t mess up the relationship. Mel and Jack spend the next few scenes sniping at each other because they can’t just talk about it.

The baby thing becomes one more lame cliffhanger because nobody in Virgin River can freaking communicate. If Jack really really loves Mel, why doesn’t he say, “If you want it that bad, let’s have a baby.” They’re already talking as if they plan to be together forever, although he has not proposed yet. Another failure to communicate. If he can’t handle being a dad for some reason, why doesn’t he just say so and let us all move on? Bring a new hunky guy to town for Mel to fall in love with.

This is TV. I watch far too much of it. I just finished all 17 seasons of “Grey’s Anatomy.” Toward the end, everybody was having babies. It was insane. God knows who’s taking care of all these children while the surgeons work 90 hours a day, but babies, babies, babies. If shows full of babies bother you, skip the last couple seasons. Go back to when everybody was having sex in the on-call room or the storage closet. Which of course can lead to babies. It’s amazing how these genius doctors get pregnant by accident. No fertility problems there.

Back to “Virigin River.” How many times do we experience the same failure to communicate in real life? Somebody drops a bomb like “I want to have a baby” and the partner fluffs it off with a sarcastic comment, “I can’t talk about it now,” “We already discussed that,” or “Gotta go, I’m running late.” Maybe they pretend not to hear you. Maybe someone says, “I really don’t want any kids,” and the partner dismisses that with “he’s in a bad mood” or “she’ll change her mind.” Maybe the answer is a quick kiss or “I love you,” which is nice but not an answer. This is a big question. We need a yes or no answer so that we can move ahead one way or the other.

So what do we do about this? First, I suggest we pick our times wisely. I’m impatient. I like to blurt things out. I want a yes or no answer right now. But we have more chance of a calm adult discussion if we’re not trying to get ready for work, preparing for company, or engrossed in a football game. The baby discussion calls for a quiet situation where neither of you is stewing about something else. Silence the phone, let your partner know you want to talk about something important, then say it.

Second, be honest. Mel did well in telling Jack that she will not be happy if she doesn’t become a mother, that she is not willing to give up motherhood. We’re all scared of ruining the relationship, but we have to say it. “I love you” isn’t enough. We both have to say it, whether it’s “I want to have a baby” or “I do not want to have children.” Maybe they do need time to think about it. Agree to meet again in two days for the answer. Otherwise, you wander around in this hazy no-decision land where nobody gets what they need. Like Mel and Jack.

Sappy show that “Virgin River” is, they will probably end up married and pregnant. If it were “Grey’s Anatomy,” the baby would come too early, some intern would try to deliver it in the ER, and both baby and mother would almost die before the more experienced surgeon saved them. They would name the baby after the surgeon.

******

Can you tell I’m running low on ideas as well as time this week? I spent yesterday dealing with a minor injury at the walk-in clinic and a money situation at the bank. All is well, except once again I had no emergency contact at the hospital and no clear beneficiaries at the bank. The joys of non-parenthood combined with widowhood.

Please consider writing a guest post if you’re in the mood. Guidelines are in the sidebar on this page.

***

An updated edition of the book Childless by Marriage is now available on Amazon. By Friday, it should be available at all bookstores, both online and brick-and-mortar from Ingram distributors. Spread the word.

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

What If Your Mate Says No to Kids?

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, men who don't want children, talking about having kids

Last week, I wrote about how important it is to have The Conversation with our mates about whether or not we want to have children. It can be a tough conversation to have, especially for women. Sometimes men are like fish. We don’t want to speak too loudly for fear of scaring them away. I know that’s how it was with me. I lacked the self-esteem to say I wanted children and would do whatever it took to have them. With my first husband, by the time I found out he didn’t want to have children, our marriage was already going badly. It didn’t matter what I said; it wasn’t going to happen. But what if we had had that conversation before we got married? Maybe we would have avoided a troubled marriage.

With Fred, well, I suspect he was actually worth sacrificing children for. We had such a love, the kind they make movies about. He was the best husband a woman could want. He did not want to have more children, but I think if I really insisted that I had to have kids to be happy, he would have gone along with it. I didn’t insist. I just moped. I think part of me believed I had already lost my chance with my first marriage, and I was lucky just to have another husband. Also, to be honest, I wonder if my desire was not as strong as my desire to do other things in life, but I’ll never know. We avoided the conversation.

So what does one do if one’s mate says, “Absolutely not. I refuse to have children.” A lot of people who comment here are dealing with that problem right now. Do they push to the point of destroying the relationship? Do they risk abandoning the love they have in the hope of finding someone else who will welcome children? Do they give up their dream in order to stay together? How do you make such a decision?

I wish I had all the answers to these questions. We each have to find them for ourselves through soul-searching and prayer and being alert to those moments when everything becomes very clear.

What do you think? What do you do if he/she says, “No kids. No way.”