aging without children

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. 

Want to Be Seen as Radical? Don’t Have Children

Sue Fagalde Lick alone in old age, childless in old age, childlessness , , , , , , ,

Are you radical?

Sounds like something we used to say back in the 60s and 70s when something was really “cool” or crazy. Radical, man, groovy.

But radical is a real word, and one of its meanings is marked by a considerable departure from the usual or traditional. I think that applies to every one of us who does not have children. By not following the traditional pattern of marriage, motherhood, and grandmotherhood, we are both forced and freed to follow a nontraditional path, to be radical.

This was the subject of our spring solstice gathering of the Nomo Crones childless elderwomen on Zoom last week. These women are definitely radical. Straight, queer, single, married, childless by infertility, illness, partner problems, and sometimes by choice, they had a lot to say. Watch the video. We’re a lot of fun, and I don’t think we’re much like the traditional grandmotherly old ladies you may know.

MC Jody Day has dubbed us “Radical Old Women” or ROW. I like it.

I know I haven’t followed the standard patterns in my own life. A lifelong writer/musician, I never had to give up my vocations for motherhood or wait until my children grew up to begin. I have been writing steadily since elementary school. Now that my husband is gone and I don’t need a traditional job, I often do my writing and music to the exclusion of everything else. I work in my pajamas, and my house is a mess. I make elaborate meals when I’m in the mood or grab whatever’s hanging out in the fridge when I’m not because no one except my dog is depending on me to feed them. I wake up and go to sleep when I feel like it. Of course, the flip side is spending holidays alone and having no family to help when I’m sick or injured, but let’s not think about that today.

I don’t feel my age. I notice the physical changes, but without the milestones mothers experience, I don’t feel old, and I’m far from ready to accept the lives many of my friends in their 70s are living. A neighbor, also widowed and childless, told me recently that she was selling her house and moving to a senior residence. I looked it up. Mt. Angel Towers. It looks like a prison to me.

Another neighbor, age 75, rowdy and refusing to give up anything, agrees with me. No way in hell. If she gets feeble, she’ll hire people to help, but meanwhile, she wants to travel, work in her garden, shop at garage sales every weekend, and make her pot cookies.

A childless musician friend who just turned 80 has declared she’s going to be an “outrageous octogenarian.” She is losing her vision and has some major health challenges, but she refuses to leave her three-story dome home overlooking the beach; if she can’t climb the stairs, she’ll install an elevator. And she will keep playing the piano with a little help from her neighbors and friends.

I don’t live like anyone in my family, at least anyone who is still alive. What am I doing out here alone in the woods? Radical.

My step-grandmother, Grandma Rachel, never had children. Instead, she inherited our gang. She was a terrible housekeeper, dreadful cook. She was big, loud, and opinionated and a menace behind the wheel of a car. She loved to read, write, and paint pictures. The family disapproved, but I adored her. She was my role model, filling my life with books and encouraging me to follow my dreams. She died 32 years ago at age 86, but I treasure her letters and poems. I want to be her kind of radical.

I want to be the old lady with the crazy hats who sits around in jeans and tennis shoes playing guitar and writing poetry, who does yoga and travels cross-country by herself, who is not too old to crawl on the floor with the kids, who will never be old enough for an old folk’s home.

Another definition of radical: tending or disposed to make extreme changes in existing views, habits, conditions or institutions. In other words, we refuse to accept the status quo. One of five women will never have children. We need the parent-people to see us, to accept us, to understand that our radical lives have the same value as theirs. Who knows? Maybe someday parenting will be the radical choice.

What do you think? Want to be radical with me? I welcome your comments.

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The sorrow of a childless ultrasound test

Sue Fagalde Lick childless in old age, childlessness, Uncategorized, unmarried and childless , , , , , , ,

Dear friends,

This morning, I’m going to the hospital for an ultrasound test. It’s the same kind of test women look forward to having to see their babies growing in the womb. Oh look, there’s his fingers. I can hear his heartbeat! They go home with a picture to show everyone. Of course sometimes, the test turns tragic, showing no baby or a baby that is deformed or has died. To me that’s worse than never having a baby.

But it’s not that kind of ultrasound. Whatever else might be inside me, there is no baby. The technicians will be seeking the cause of my persistent stomach problems. I’m torn between hoping they find something—finally an answer!—and hoping they don’t. At least I’m pretty sure this will not be the kind where they stick a wand up your vagina. Been there, hated that. Let’s keep it all on the outside, please.

It’s not my first ultrasound, but I’m always a little sad that I’ll never have the one where I see my baby. Not that I’d know what it was. In my experience, it’s all a bunch of fuzzy dots that don’t make any sense to me. When I did this three years ago for basically the same problem, it was a fascinating tour through my parts. There’s your liver, there’s your gall bladder, there’s your kidneys . . .

Anyway. I’ll be going alone. I won’t be anesthetized, so there’s no reason I can’t drive myself. But this morning, hungry from fasting, headachy from lack of caffeine, and a bit scared of what they might find, I wish I had someone to hold my hand. I wish my late husband Fred was still here.

Lately I’ve been getting a taste of what it’s like to be single and childless at 66. I drove myself to the ER when this started with incredible pain one night in December. A friend took me for my colonoscopy/endoscopy three weeks ago. Afterward, I was back to being alone, even though the instructions said to have someone with you for 24 hours. There is no family member nearby to whom it would naturally fall to take care of me.

Would having children solve this? Not really. My friends’ grown children live far away, work full-time and are busy with their own children. Besides, I’m not sure I’d want a grown-up child treating me like an old person and telling me what to do. In fact, I’m sure I don’t want that.

So what am I saying? Having an ultrasound for something other than a baby makes me sad. And build up your support network, whether it be family or friends. No matter how independent you think you are, you’re going to need it.

I’m confident that whatever they find, I’ll be okay. If I can survive my daily speed walks with Annie up and down the hills here, I’m pretty healthy. We both are.

As always, I cherish your comments.

 

Treasure the Childless Life You Have

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness, Uncategorized , , , , , , , , , ,

Earthquakes in Mexico. Hurricanes and flooding in Texas, Florida, Puerto Rico and other places, wildfires burning up the western United States, terrorist attacks everywhere. The news keeps bringing more shades of awful. Is the world ending or what? We’re safe so far on the Oregon coast, but the way things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if the long-feared tsunami came today.

At the beginning of September, people now dealing with natural disasters had homes and jobs. They shopped, ate out, went to church, played sports, and made love. Now it’s all over. Many of those who survived have lost everything, including loved ones. Life is short and unpredictable, my friends.

A woman named Nita recently wrote on the Childless Not by Choice Facebook site that her husband had passed away this year at 64. A few months later, her sister-in-law died, and now her brother-in-law is dying, all of cancer, all too young. In the midst of her grief, she urged people, “Please make the most out of your lives now, do things you enjoy together, laugh together, love together, make amends with family members whether or not children are involved because after it is all over with, you won’t get another chance.”

She’s so right. We don’t know what’s going to happen. If we spend all our days grieving for what might have been, we never get around to appreciating what—and who—we already have. Sometimes we just have to curse a little and move on. You didn’t get the life you expected, but take a look at the life you have. Don’t waste it. I know how hard it is. I was mired in anger and self-pity for years. But give it a try. The water could rise or the earth start to shake any minute.

I hope you’re all okay. If you’re in one of the disaster zones, you’re in my prayers. Consider this: If you don’t have children to take care of, you’re freer to help those who do. Please be safe.

Me, I’m taking care of my dog, who is huddling close, frightened by the thunder and lightning happening right now in our first big storm of the season.

***

On a more cheerful subject, I leave for the NotMom Summit in Cleveland, Ohio in two weeks. Imagine a conference where nobody is talking about their kids because they don’t have any. I’ll be speaking about aging without children. If you have thoughts about what I should include, please share them in the comments. And, if you’re feeling adventurous, join us Oct. 6-8. Tickets are still available.

NotMom Summit brings non-moms together

Sue Fagalde Lick childless women, TheNotMom, Uncategorized , , , , , , , , , , ,

Notmom logoImagine yourself in a room filled with women of all ages who are not mothers, women who will not ask you how many children you have or when you’re going to get around to having them, women who will not brag about their grandchildren because they don’t have any either. That’s what it’s going to be like at the NotMom Summit, a conference for childless and childfree women happening Oct. 6 and 7 in Cleveland, Ohio.

I will be one of the speakers there. Other speakers will include many of my heroines from the childless/childfree world. They include Jody Day, founder of Gateway Women and author of Living the Life Unexpected; Laura Carroll, author of The Baby Matrix and Families of Two; Marcia Drut-Davis, longtime parenting choice advocate and author of Confessions of a Childfree Woman: A Life Spent Swimming Against the Mainstream; Laurie Lisle, author of Without Child: Challenging the Stigma of Childlessness; Karen Malone Wright, founder of The NotMom, and so many more amazing women.

I have never been to Ohio, and I have never met any of these women except online. I expect to be totally jet-lagged and star struck.

Topics include “Women Without Children: Then and Now,” “NotMoms on the Job,” “How to Manage Your Money,” “Singles Without Kids,” “The Medical Upsides and Downsides of Being a NotMom,” “Getting Older Just Like You Planned It,” and “On the Big Screen: Childless and Childfree Stories.” There will be opportunities for women in similar situations to meet and for women who live near each other to get together.

Attendees will get a chance to talk about the stuff that they can’t always discuss with their families, their friends or even their partners because they just don’t get it or don’t want to hear it. This is amazing to me.

It’s $395 for the whole conference. You can also opt to attend for one day or one of the keynote speeches. For details, visit https://notmomsummit2017.sched.com/tickets. If you are anywhere nearby or can get there in October, think about attending. To be honest, I’m spending much more than I’m making, but I think it’s going to be worth it. If nothing else, I’ll have a lot of new things to share with you here on the blog.

There’s more to The NotMom than just the conference. Visit the website at https://www.thenotmom.com. They’ve got a blog, a list of resources, a list of famous women without children, and a forum where people can talk about this stuff. Click around the site and have fun. Just don’t forget about me. 🙂

Meanwhile, keep those comments coming on the existing posts. I love a lively conversation.