Go or Stay? Readers Keep Asking

Should I leave the person I love in the hope I can find someone else who is willing to have children with me? That question comes up over and over in the comments here. Sometimes people ask if they should do it. Sometimes they declare that they are going to do it, that they have to do it, that it’s breaking their hearts, but they have no choice. However, most of them haven’t done it yet. It’s next year, next month, if he doesn’t change his mind, if, if, if . . .

I don’t blame anyone who is hesitating about taking that giant step, especially when they have been in a relationship for many years or when they’re borderline too old to get pregnant. What if you end up alone?

I don’t know how many people are as insecure as I am, but I always found it miraculous to get one guy to love me. How could I know if anyone would ever even ask me out again? And now that I’m older and widowed, it has been ages since I kissed anyone except my dog, and my friends are all busy with their grandchildren. Maybe I screwed up, but now it’s too late.

How do you step out on faith, as my churchy friends used to say, when you’re not sure there’s anything under your feet except a big black hole? I didn’t do it. Most of the men in my life left me one way or the other. There was that handsome druggie whom I dumped because I couldn’t deal with him always being stoned. He was willing to have children. It would have been a disaster. As it was, he stalked me for six months after we broke up. No, you never know what’s out there. It’s not like “The Bachelor” TV show where you have all these men who look like models and who all profess to be eager to get married and have children. The real world isn’t like that.

I suppose a person could do online dating, specifying that they only want partners who are willing to have babies. Back when I was younger and dating, that kind of ambition scared some guys away. I suspect it still does. If you’re Catholic, you could do catholicmatch.com. The church says you have to welcome children. But I know a Catholic couple that didn’t get around to marrying and trying to get pregnant until the woman’s eggs were defunct, so even that’s not a guarantee.

I’m meandering here. It’s that kind of day. But hear me on the following:

1) If you are in the go-or-stay dilemma, I can’t tell you what to do. I don’t know what’s right for you. You have to decide which you want more, to be with this person or to have children. Nobody should have to make such a choice, but that’s the deal.

2) If you’re in your early 20s, just dating, and haven’t been together long, for God’s sake, find someone else. You do not have to stay or to settle for a life that’s less than you want. If you’re older and have been together for ages, see #1.

3) I would really like to hear from someone who has taken the leap, left the relationship and tried again. Did they find someone, did they have kids, did it work out? We need to know.

I welcome your comments.

He keeps putting off having children

Dear readers,

Yesterday I received this comment from “Amber” to a post from last year titled “Will I Regret Not Having Children?” It represents so many of the comments received here at Childless by Marriage that I thought I would share it with everyone. It gets right to the heart of the problem. What do you think she should do? How long is too long to wait?

“I am so glad I found this blog today. A lot of others are in the same sort of limbo I am currently in, and it gives me comfort to know that I am not alone. I have been feeling like I need to talk about this subject for a while now, but really don’t have anyone to talk to. I am about to turn 30 (husband will be 31), have been with my husband for almost 13 years and I feel more and more depressed lately about not having the two children I have always wanted. Through the years, there has always been some sort of goal to reach, whether it be finishing college, having reliable income, owning our own home, etc. We have now reached that point and yet again there is a stipulation. Now I am expected to wait 1-2 more years so that I am established in my job and we can enjoy having the extra income my new job has provided. I feel like I am the one that has gone through college and is making this money, if bills are paid what is the problem…?

“We are now financially stable and have traveled around. We aren’t too old or young. I feel like the time is right. Any time I bring up the subject of having a baby, my husband shuts down and/or gets irritated. He says I am obsessed with everyone else and that’s why I am so focused on children. ( like it’s not an original thought that I have always wanted to be a mother.) Honestly he makes me feel like I am crazy for wanting a family sometimes. I want to talk to him about it again, but anymore I don’t feel like I have the energy for the argument that I know it will cause just in bringing it up. I have thought about divorcing, but we are perfect in every area but this one, and i love him with all my being. Lately I find myself resenting him and growing more and more depressed at my upcoming 30th birthday ( and then I get angry at myself for feeling that way, because I feel so selfish).

“As you can tell, I am just a tornado of emotions. I help him and support him in reaching all of his goals and aspirations as a musician. I just don’t understand how/why he cannot meet me half way or try to understand my feelings of wanting a family. The fact that my younger sister is “fertile Myrtle” and social media is flooded with everyone’s new families doesn’t help when I start feeling sad like this either. I just don’t know when to throw in the towel. When do you finally reach that point of enough is enough, before you run out of time and miss that window?”

Thank you, Amber. Welcome to Childless by Marriage. I hope we can help.

 

Graduation day: When everything, including motherhood, was possible

On June 7, 1974, I sat with my fellow journalism graduates in the middle of the football field at San Jose State’s Spartan Stadium, baking in our caps and gowns. Everything was changing that month. After 16 years of school, I would finally be free of classes, homework, finals and term papers. I could pursue my blossoming career in newspapers, and in two weeks, I was getting married.

I don’t remember who spoke at the ceremony. I have vague memories of people passing marijuana cigarettes and tossing a ball around. My classes done, I was obsessing over clothes. A sewing maniac in those days, I had made the blue and white seersucker mini-dress that I wore under my robe. I was making my wedding dress, one of the bridesmaid’s gowns and new outfits for the honeymoon. I was dealing with flowers, photographers, and last-minute bridal showers. I was setting up our new apartment, which I had no doubt would be only a temporary home until we bought a house. Soon I would be having babies and writing books, living the life I had always expected to live.

I was so very young, 22 going on 12. Look up “naïve” in the dictionary, and you’ll find a picture of me. Webster defines it as “deficient in worldly wisdom or informed judgment.” That pretty much nails it. Raised in an extremely restrictive home, I hadn’t had my first date until my first year of college. By the middle of my second year, I was engaged. I had had three actual boyfriends in those 18 months or so before I hooked up with Jim.

Hooking up didn’t mean what it means now. I was a virgin until three months after I started dating Jim. And I probably would have stayed a virgin a bit longer if he hadn’t pressured me so hard to have sex, and if I hadn’t gotten drunk and let him because I knew he’d dump me if I didn’t. Ladies, how many of us have given in simply because we were afraid to lose the guy? Anyway, coming from this strict Catholic background with minimal knowledge of the world, I assumed that since we were having sex, we were getting married. And since he was getting pressured by his parents to find a wife, he said, yeah, sure, we’ll get married. No ring, no down-on-his-knees proposal, and oh by the way, let’s not tell anybody yet. Anybody hear warning bells? I heard them, too, but I thought I had made this commitment and had to stick with it.

As for having kids, I had no idea he wouldn’t want them. He was great with other people’s children, and I just assumed he’d be great with ours. Did we talk about it? Nope. He did escort me to the college health clinic to get birth control pills. He did have a supply of condoms on hand. After we were married, his theme song was “not yet.” Turns out he wasn’t big on employment, monogamy or sobriety either, but lest you think he was just a big shit, I loved the guy with all my heart. We had a wonderful time together. The sex was amazing, and we could talk for hours. I thought we’d be married forever.

I thought I’d be a mom, and our parents would be fabulous grandparents. I’d also have the career of my dreams. Like I said, naïve. As the marriage died, we agreed that we could have had a fantastic affair but should never have gotten married.

If I had just said no to sex with Jim or enjoyed the sex but realized I didn’t have to marry him, my life might have been completely different. He would have dumped me, and I might have married someone with a good job, someone who wanted the house and kids, maybe even someone who’d go to church with me. But no. I thought this was it. It didn’t have to be “it.”

I haven’t talked to Jim in over 30 years. I have heard that he remarried two more times and never had any children of his own. I don’t think much about him or our six-year marriage. Fred, who came later, was my real husband. I didn’t have babies with him either, but the love we had was worth it. And we did talk about it.

On that hot day in San Jose when I graduated from San Jose State, I had no idea what was coming. What would I have done if I’d known? Should a person get married two weeks after graduation? I don’t recommend it. Live a bit first. And take time to make sure you have the right partner. Life is not like “The Bachelorette,” where you have to make a decision in 10 weeks. Be sure. And if you’re not sure, don’t do it.

Does this stir any thoughts or memories? I’d love to hear your comments.

People Assume Crazy Things About Childlessness

Is your home perfectly clean because you don’t have children? Do you dare to buy white sofas? Is your schedule wide open? Do you have lots of money to spend?

Somehow parent-type people seem to think those of us without children luxuriate in quiet, neatness, freedom and money. Ha. Not me. How about you?

I just spent a few minutes standing in front of the pellet stove looking around my living room. What a mess. Dog blankets. Laundry waiting to be carried to the laundry room. Grocery bags I didn’t put away last week. Books and sheet music everywhere. The carpet is stained, the old green furniture is coated with dog fur, and this pellet stove I depend on for heat needs cleaning and servicing. Ashes fall out when I open the door.

I do display pieces of my antique glass collection where a child might be able to reach it, but there are many things I don’t dare leave lying around because my dog will eat them: Eyeglasses, pencils, paper, food, paper clips, or anything small and plastic.

Lots of spare time? Nope. Why do you think my house is such a mess? Work takes priority over cleaning.

I’m rich, so I can afford a maid, right? Well, way back in San Jose when my husband was alive and working, we paid someone to clean, but we weren’t childless then. His son lived with us full-time. So what am I saying? I’m trying to say that people assume things about childless folks, most of which are not true.

Have you heard that people who decide not to have children are selfish, career driven, strange, or immature? That they’re no good with kids, so you wouldn’t dare let them babysit? That they don’t want to be around children? Otherwise they’d have them or they’d adopt some kids.

That if there’s a fertility problem, it’s always the woman whose parts don’t work.

Here’s a good one: If you really wanted children, you would have tried harder and made it happen, so you must not have wanted them that bad.

For more ideas about the annoying things people assume, check out these articles. You might find a few things you identify with.

Melanie Notkin: 4 Unfair Assumptions About Childless Women

Ruth Sunderland: Childless is Not a Synonym for Weird

What about you? What do people assume about you that makes you nuts? Please share in the comments.

Mom bodies vs. childless bodies

How is a childless body different?

Having babies does a number on your body. How could it not? Think about all the changes that come with pregnancy, childbirth and nursing. If you have any doubts about the motherly body, read this article from the Telegraph, “Does Having Children Make You Old?” Follow it up with my 2012 blog post detailing the changes pregnancy imposes, including weight gain, back problems, varicose veins, hemorrhoids, incontinence, changes in breast size and shape, and stretch marks. On the good side, women who have given birth have less risk of breast, ovarian and endometrial cancer. Also, you get a ticket to the grownup table as a full-fledged member of the Mom Club.

I have written here before about how I feel younger than my peers who have kids. At a funeral for my cousin last week, I found myself gravitating toward the younger cousins because I felt like we had more in common. I’m aware of my age—another birthday coming in three weeks. I know I look like somebody’s grandma, but my life is so different from those of the folks clustered around their children and grandchildren. Lacking husband or children, I found myself hanging out with my father and my brother. “What are you, six?” my sister-in-law scolded me at one point. Maybe I am.

From the outside, I look just like my mom, except with glasses and straight hair. She had two children and that probably changed her body, but I still feel like a clone. It’s hard to imagine what having a baby would have done to me. I can read the list, but I can’t feel it, you know? Besides, I’ve seen lots of moms who look great. I guess those of us who never got pregnant will never know what it’s really like.

What do you think about all this? Read the article and let me know.

Forgive me if this post is a little wonky. Some of those kids at the funeral gave colds to their parents which they generously passed on to “Aunt Sue.” Not having kids around means I hardly ever get sick. One of the benefits.

The Big Gamble: Should You End the Relationship to Have Babies?

Should I leave my otherwise good relationship in the hope of finding someone else I can make babies with? That’s the question people ask the most in the comments at this blog. I can’t answer that question. There are so many other questions to be answered first. How bad do you want to have children? Are you 100 percent sure it will never happen in your current relationship? Are you otherwise happy with your partner or would it end between you anyway? What if you never find someone and you end up alone?

I can’t answer any of these questions either. I know what happened with me. The first marriage without children was doomed from the start because my husband cheated on me and the only place we got along was in bed. By the time I got to the second marriage, after a couple more failed relationships, I was sure I was going to spend the rest of my life alone. I wouldn’t even have cats because I was allergic. So when Fred came along, we were such a good match, I accepted that we wouldn’t have children together and was glad to be a pseudo mom with his kids. A close friend has a similar story except that her first husband was abusive. Her second husband, Roy, had three kids, and my friend was content not to have any of her own. But our first marriages were bad to begin with, and not everybody finds a Fred or a Roy.

What if the relationship you’re in now is good, really good, except for this one issue of having children? Let’s look at it from the view of my mother’s generation. If one’s partner turned out to be infertile, one did not leave. If one of the people was infertile, then the couple was infertile. They adopted or accepted their childless status together. They didn’t dump the first spouse as a defective model and find a new one. As for someone declaring he or she didn’t want to have children? We didn’t hear much about that. If they were having sex, they were probably going to have kids because birth control was not nearly as easy to get.

Being older than most of you, I was sort of on the cusp of the old way. A certain family member urged me to get pregnant “by accident” and then everything would fall into place. Not likely, but life seemed so much less complicated then. Marriage, babies, the house with the picket fence . . . okay, I know it was probably not that simple, but I’m trying to make a point. Are we too ready to bail on our relationships now? Or should we get out quickly, before it’s too late to have babies? Which bring us back to our original question, to which I do not have the answers.

Here are some articles to read that might offer some answers or raise more questions.

“The High Failure Rate of Second and Third Marriages,” Psychology Today. Sobering facts to ponder before you dump your partner.

“8 Tough Truths to Consider When Your Partner Doesn’t Want Kids,” Huffington Post. This writer really does give you some answers or at least a path to finding them. Read this and do some soul-searching.

“I left the husband I loved because he refused to have children (and had IVF twins alone)” There’s another way to go, as this Daily Mail piece describes. Would you be willing to have children on your own if you don’t find the ideal partner?

This subject is too big for one post. I know many of you are in pain over this issue and agonizing over what to do. Please read and comment and we’ll come back to this next time. Thank you all for being here.

Will You Regret Not Having Children?

A word that keeps coming up here at the Childless by Marriage blog is “regret.” Different dictionaries explain it in different words, but regret is basically a feeling of sorrow or disappointment for things you did in the past, decisions you made, or roads not taken. Readers trying to decide what to do about their situation worry about whether they will regret their choices later. If they agree not to have children, will they regret it? If they have children when they don’t want them, will they regret it? If they leave their partner in the hope of finding someone who wants children, will they regret it? If I knew the answers to these questions, I’d be a fortuneteller instead of a writer.

Regret. Suddenly I’m hearing Frank Sinatra sing, “Regrets I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention . . . I did it my way.”

Well, I guess I did. Maybe you did, too. Are there choices in my life I regret? You bet. Jobs I wish I hadn’t taken, things I wish I hadn’t said, guys I wish I hadn’t dated. But I don’t regret the big choices I made, even my first marriage, which wasn’t ideal. I loved the man, we had some wonderful experiences, and I cherish the good memories. If I had waited for somebody else, I might have a husband, kids, grandkids, and the perfect house now, but I don’t know that that would have happened. I might have been alone.

I don’t regret marrying Fred, even though we didn’t have children together. He was the nicest person I ever met, he loved me like every girl wants to be loved, and we had a great life together. In death, he left me with a home and steady income. I wish I had some kids, but I had a lot of other things, including my husband’s children.

The other big decision was moving to Oregon. I have been homesick for 19 years, but living here has given me so many opportunities that I wouldn’t have gotten if we had stayed in San Jose. Would I trade the books I’ve been written, the music I’ve played here, the friends I’ve met, or my life in the woods for a more conventional life in smoggy suburbia with husband and kids? I’m not sure I would.

Every decision brings both good and bad. In the end, I believe things turn out the way they’re supposed to, whether it’s God’s plan, the way of the Universe, or whatever you want to call it. With every choice, you gain something, but you also have to let something go.

You’re 20 or 30 or 40 now. When you’re 80, will you regret not having children? Will you wish with every fiber of your being that you had made a different choice? I don’t know. All you can do is make a decision based on what you know now and follow where it leads.

Here are a few things you can read. This article from Psychology Today, “Getting Past Your Regrets,” offers some very good advice to help us move on after choices we regret.

An article in Forbes lists “The 25 Biggest Regrets in Life.” Note that several of them have to do with the kids the writer assumes everybody has. Hello? Some of us don’t have children.

On the other hand, here are a bunch of great quotes about regret that most of us can relate to. I like this one from Queen Latifah: “I made decisions that I regret, and I took them as learning experiences . . . I’m human, not perfect, like anybody else.”

I do not regret visiting with you, my friends. Thank you for being here and for your comments.

She’s infertile, he wants kids

Friends, I’m on deadline, so I’m going to let a couple of commenters from the old blog site have the floor this week in the hope you can add some insights and move the whole discussion to this site.

Surpermonkey: Here is my dilemma: I am a divorced mother of 2 daughters and 39 years young. Five years ago due to health reasons, I had to have a total hysterectomy. At the time of that surgery, I was married and knew that my marriage was rocky. At this time, I am head over heels in love with the man that I feel such a huge connection with. And the feeling is mutual. He is 40 and has never been married nor does he have any children. He wants them but has said that he has not found that person to give him that wonderful gift. Until he met me.

He said that he sees his future with me and wants to be with me and my girls but what is stopping him from being fully committed to me is the fact that I cannot have any more children. He says that he has to decide–get married to me, to the love of his life and his soul mate and give up the dream of having children of his own or break things off with me and hope he can find someone that can give him children so that he can experience that kind of love that a father and child has. I am afraid that if he chooses our love, then will he end up resenting me in the future?

Will I always have this cloud over me that I cannot give the one man that I love the very thing that he wants most in this world? Do I break it off with him and make this decision for him–so that he can try to find someone that can give him that? He says that by staying with me, I am changing him and his way of life or the way he had envisioned his life. My girls love him and he says he loves my girls. He is so afraid that I am going to break things off with him because of this. But how long can I continue like this? We are so happy when we are together, but then I remember that if we stay together he will never have a child of his own. Any one have any advice?

Sue: Oh Surpermonkey, what a pickle. Have you discussed the possibility of adoption or using a surrogate? If he really wants this, there has to be an alternative to splitting up. I hope you can find it together.

Tony: I’d say you have a situation on your hands. Here’s my take. I got married very late in life. I was 42 and my wife was 45. She had two boys in her first marriage and we decided not to have any kids. I was fine with it then, but I’m not now. This may be painful to hear, but you opened that door. If he feels strongly about having his own child and you can’t, do him a favor, pull the plug and set him free. I can assure you that he will resent you and your kids. That’s where I am right now and I’m 63. Men are very funny about this. I can foresee a HUGE meltdown and argument coming and feelings will be hurt. I wouldn’t adopt or settle for a surrogate. If I ever had kids, they MUST be my own DNA and sperm-produced kids. Anything else is settling for less than I deserve. My advice, hold your strength, cut set him free and get on with your life. As he feels now, nothing good can come from this.

Surpermonkey: Thank you. I am not sure what we are going to do. He would rather not adopt and we have discussed a surrogate. We know that there are other options out there but they are so costly. Obviously we have a lot more to discuss on this subject. I appreciate your advice.

So that’s what they said. I think Tony is being a little harsh, perhaps projecting the anger from his own situation onto Surpermonkey’s. But maybe not. What do you think?

Childless by Marriage discussion rages on

Welcome! After several weeks of transition, Childless by Marriage now lives completely at this site. All of the old posts are here, along with most of the comments. In starting fresh at a new home, I thought it might be helpful to backtrack a little. Several posts have attracted far more comments than any of the others, and I don’t want anyone to miss a single comment or miss their chance to add their own thoughts. The old comments got a little scrambled in order when they were transferred to this WordPress site, but they’re there.

Most popular: Are You Grieving Over Your Lack of Children? Published Nov. 7, 2007, one of my first posts, this one has received 264 comments.

Coming in second: If You Disagree About Children, is Your Relationship Doomed? Since January 2013, I have received 241 comments. Click on the link to read what I said and how people responded. If you don’t see the comments at first, keep scrolling down. Clearly there is no good answer to the question I asked in my blog.

Third most popular: Can You Forgive Him or Her for Not Giving You Children? This one from January 2014 has gotten 105 comments. I think the most common answer has been, “No!” But read it for yourself and draw your own conclusions.

Does one of these topics speak to you? Go ahead and join the discussion. If you commented before, how about an update?

As of this week, this blog has been going for eight years. I find it hard to believe, but it’s a topic that never ends. Every day, I hear from people who are in the midst of trying to figure out what to do? Break up? Stay together? Get pregnant? Give up on having children? How do you live with the grief? Will I regret not having children? How do I relate to my friends and family who are all having babies? Come back every Wednesday for a new post, and we’ll try to figure it out together.

People of any age and life situation are welcome here. I only ask that people who are childless by choice refrain from bashing those who don’t feel the same way. Comments that smack of “breeder bashing” will be deleted.

Thank you so much for coming.

Sue

No kids? Find a new dream

Dear friends,

I spent four days last week on the road at the Willamette Writers Conference in Portland, Oregon. I have gone to this conference many times, but rarely have I come away feeling so inspired. The workshops I took, the connections I made, and the friends I spent time with all gave me new energy for my work. There were hundreds of us at the Doubletree Hotel. Many were parents or grandparents. Many were married. Many had jobs doing other things besides writing. But I didn’t see any of that. There were no family groups to make me feel left out. No kid-centric conversations. For those four days, we were all writers. Nobody felt left out or different; we all shared a passion for words and books, from the high school kid who writes about rock stars to the 80-year-old writing a murder mystery.

I can go to events like the conference because I don’t have anyone except my dog to take care of. A phone call brings my trusted dog-sitter, and I’m free to go. If I had children, it would be more difficult. Not impossible, but tricky. When my husband was ill, I had a hard time getting away even to run a few errands. What I’m saying is being on your own is not all bad.

Most parents wait until their kids are grown to follow their own dreams. A lot of people who want to write don’t start until retirement. But you and I can do it now. Whatever your passion is, dive into it. Following your passion for whatever interests you can take your mind off your lack of children, put you together with people who share that passion, and give you a new purpose for your life. I know many of you wanted to be parents and wrapped your lives around that dream, but sometimes we have to find a new dream. If it’s something you and your partner can share, all the better. My motorcycle-riding cousin and his wife come to mind.

Maybe you’re still trying to figure out whether or not you’ll have children. But why not find something you love to do while you’re figuring it out?

***

As you may know, I’ve been transitioning from my old Childless by Marriage blog site to this new one. The last few posts have been published at both www.childlessbymarriageblog.com and www.childlessbymarriage.blogspot.com. An unfortunate side-effect is that the comments I receive on one site do not appear on the other. I don’t know how to remedy this except to share the most interesting comments in my posts.

So, in response to last week’s Maybe It’s Time to Reassess, about finding things to be grateful for, Anonymous wrote:

I agree, we all should count our blessings. To get through a grief period this year, I started keeping a diary and forced myself to write down at least one thing per day, that I was grateful for. After 6 months, it really turned my attitude around. Now I can fill up a page of things I am grateful for, even though my career did not turn out as planned, and I did not have children. Here are a few things I’m grateful about today: 1) I slept the entire night without waking up or having hot flashes; 2)my husband’s hug before he left for work; 3) the weather is beautiful and cooler like we are entering Fall; 4) my sisters, my niece, and still having my mom in my life; 5) my boss took the day off and I can feel at peace at my job; and 6) my bunny is happy and excited every time he sees me. All this and it’s only 8:39 a.m. Can’t wait to see what else happens throughout the day that makes me feel blessed.

I am grateful for all of you.

Sue