Is the Problem More Than Him Just Not Wanting Children?

If your male partner is not agreeing to have children, even though you want them, is there more to your disagreement then just the baby question? That's what Beth Follini of the Have Children or Not blog suggests in a recent post. Although they may have valid reasons for not wanting kids, in some cases, they might have issues with commitment, attachment and even narcissism, she says. It's an interesting thought. I see lots of red flags in the comments here that make me think the man's reluctance to have children is only one of many problems in the relationship. Know what I mean? Of course, the situation can be reversed, with the woman being the one who doesn't want to have children. See what Beth says about.

I'm kind of struggling through this week, so please visit this link and let me know what you think. Beth, who counsels clients struggling with the baby decision, also recommends a book called Attached: The New Science of Adult Attachment and How It Can Help You Find-and Keep-Love by Amir Levine for more on this subject.

Ever feel like you’re from another country, the land of no babies?

At the local post office, one of the workers brings her baby every day. I have seen her grow from newborn to just starting to walk and talk. She’s a cute, smiley child. I watch her and her mom with curiosity, but I don’t know how to interact with them. Yesterday as I was collecting my mail, I watched a white-haired man having so much fun talking nonsense to the baby that he couldn’t seem to tear himself away. Clearly he’s had years of practice talking to babies, his own, his grandchildren, perhaps nieces and nephews. I have never been around babies, and I don’t have the vocabulary for it.

At the library, I encounter a group blocking the stairs, two young mothers and three little kids, so busy talking they don’t notice me trying to get to the ground floor to sit alone and write for a while. I edge around them. The children’s room, occupied by more moms and babies, sits at the bottom of the stairs. I feel as if I am not allowed to step into that room.

A friend is hosting a series of parenting classes. She keeps sending emails asking us to help, but I am no more qualified to teaching parenting that I would be to give surfing lessons or teach Mandarin.

Many of my friends have children and grandchildren. When we work on common interests, such as music or writing, we connect. But then they suddenly start talking Mommy, and our connection fades away. It’s a lot like when I walk into the chapel during the Spanish choir rehearsal. I know some Spanish, but they talk too fast and use words I just don’t understand. They look at me like I don’t belong in their world, that no matter how many Spanish classes I take, I never will.

I often feel that I’m from a country that has no children, only dogs and cats. One is not better than the other, just different. Does any of this sound familiar to you? As childless people, are there situations where you feel like you come from another country? Please share. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.

What If Couples Signed a Baby Contract?

I have never been a fan of prenuptial agreements. It seems as if the couples signing them are already planning for the marriage to fail. But it occurs to me that maybe something in writing could help when it comes to deciding whether or not to have children. A lot of the people who comment at this blog tell me their mates said one thing when they were courting and another when they started getting serious about making babies. Either they led their partner to believe they would be happy to procreate or they told them they weren't interested. Then they did a complete 180 and changed their minds. People change their minds. God knows I can't even make a firm decision on what to eat at a restaurant until I'm forced to choose one thing or the other.

But what if part of getting legally married included a written agreement about having children. Yes, I solemnly promise to make babies with you or no, we both agree that our marriage will not include children. What do you think? What could be done to make it binding?

Let me tell you a story. My first husband and I got married in the Catholic church. We were required to attend classes for a few months at St. Lucy's. At some point, we signed a lot of papers. I'm certain one of those papers included a statement that we would gladly accept children as a gift from God and raise them in the Catholic faith. For me, that was the plan all along. For my ex, who went to church maybe twice in the eight years we were together, if it got us closer to getting these classes over with, why not? It turned out he didn't want children and threatened to leave me if I got pregnant. That written promise meant nothing.

When our marriage fell apart for other reasons, I was able to obtain an annulment from the church on the basis of his refusal to have children. It wasn't the only grounds I submitted. I may have told them he was nuts. But they went with the no-babies clause. The annulment freed me to get married again in the church. Wouldn't you know my next husband would be a divorced Presbyterian, but that's another story.

Most prenuptial agreements focus on money and what happens to it if the couple splits up. The laws differ in every state and country, and maybe whether or not to have children falls outside the realm of a prenup, but what if couples did agree about children, in writing? What if violation were grounds for divorce? What if the party who changed his/her mind had to pay the other person a large sum of money? I'm just thinking out loud, but join me in thinking about this. What if you had to make a decision and not turn back? I'm not talking about when someone proves to be physically unable to have children, just about people who change their minds, leaving their spouses in a mess of heartbreak?

What do you think? I really want your comments on this.

Remembering “Gramma” Rachel

Rachel and Clarence Fagalde at my wedding in 1985

Today my step-grandmother would have been 109 years old. Mind-boggling. My father’s mother, Clara, died when I was 2, so I don’t really remember her. I remember Grandma Rachel, who married my grandfather a year or two later. She had been married before, but she never had children. I never asked her why. 

Grandma Rachel was the one who encouraged me as a fledgling writer. She gave me countless books, all inscribed to “My dear little Susie” from “Gramma” Rachel. She always put the “Gramma” in quotes, as if she felt she didn’t deserve the title. But she did. She was as much a grandmother as any woman ever was. She showered me, my brother, and my five cousins with love, support and gifts until the day she died. Longer, in fact. A cassette tape she sent me arrived a few days after cancer took her away in 1991.

Now I don’t think Grandma Rachel was much good with babies. I can’t picture her changing a diaper. She was a terrible cook, her housekeeping was iffy, and the grownups tended to roll their eyes at the way she talked. But we kids didn’t care about any of that. She cared about us. She wanted to know about our friends, our schoolwork, and the boys we had crushes on. She wanted to see what we had made and was always eager to read what I had written. She was never too busy doing grownup things to spend time with us.

Perhaps not having children freed her to do these things, or maybe that’s just how she was. I don’t know if she ever grieved her lack of children, or if she quietly celebrated her childfree life. Perhaps with two stepsons, seven grandchildren, and a nephew and three nieces whom she adored, she didn’t have time to think about it.

Perhaps she had enough to deal with in marrying Clarence Fagalde. For most of his life, he worked as foreman of the Dorrance ranch in San Jose, California. When they married, Rachel moved to the ranch, where life revolved around the prune and cherry crops. The work never ended. When Clarence retired, they moved to a small house at Seacliff Beach, a little ways south of Santa Cruz. Grandpa fished and puttered around the yard, tending his “Garden of Eden,” while Rachel painted, read, and wrote poetry and copious letters to everyone, including me. I treasure those letters, and I treasure the memories of our many visits.

Not every step-family works as well as Grandma Rachel’s did. We’ve all heard horror stories about kids who hate the new wife, battles with the ex, and husbands who favor the kids over the wife. My own situation was far less amiable. But Rachel made it work, and so can we. 

On this, her 109th birthday, let her be a reminder that we can have happy lives even if we never give birth. 

Don’t expect to get pregnant in your 40s

Women in their 40s who are still trying to figure out whether to have children are not going to like this post, but they need to know the facts.

A reader sent me a comment today that fit right in with a recent news story I was planning to share. She’s 42 and has a child from a marriage that went sour. Now she’s dating a 28-year-old man she calls her soul mate. At first he said he didn’t want children, but now he does, and she’s stewing over whether or not to have a child for him. Read the whole comment here.

The thing is, she’s not likely to get pregnant at 42, even if she decides she is willing. Check out this article at cnn.com. “The‘Big Lie’ in putting off pregnancy” makes it clear that while today’s 40-year-olds may be as youthful as yesteryear’s 25-year-olds, their eggs are old-school. A lot of the reason more than twice as many women age 40-44 are childless as in 1976 is that they’re delaying parenthood while they build their careers and enjoy the unfettered life. Meanwhile their eggs are going stale. By the time they think about having children, it’s too late.

The article notes that a woman in her 20s has a 20-25 percent chance of conceiving naturally per menstrual cycle. In her early 30s, the chances are 15 percent. After 35, it goes down to 10 percent. After 40, the number falls to 5 percent, and after 45, it’s only 1 per cent. It doesn’t seem fair, but that’s the way it is.

Well, you can just go to the doctor and start fertility treatments, you say. Unfortunately, most of the women who go that route do not successfully conceive. They spend thousands of dollars, experience lots of disappointment and sometimes several miscarriages before they give up. Sure, we hear about celebrities and others having babies in their 40s, but for most of us that’s not going to happen.

Last night, I lay in bed running the numbers. During my first marriage, I was in my 20s, but my husband wasn’t ready for children. When I married Fred, I was 33. I had time, but not much. Scary.

A lot of readers who comment here are in their late 30s or early 40s, still trying to work out the baby thing with their mates. I hate to put more pressure on you, but there’s no time to waste. Men can wait, but women can’t. In your discussions, show them the numbers. Maybe they’ll get the point.

Should you stay with the guy who doesn't want kids?

In looking for what to write about today, I keep going back to the comment I received over the weekend on a post titled, "He said he didn't want any more kids." 

Anonymous said...  
My boyfriend and I have been dating for going on five years and he has said repeatedly that he does not want anymore kids. He has two kids from previous relationships and basically refuses to even talk about what would happen if we have an accidental pregnancy. I do understand where he is coming from, he lost his daughter in a horrendous and long custody battle after his divorce, and although we see his son on a regular basis, he simply doesn't want anymore children. I very much want to be a mom at some point, and though I'm only 25 (he is 33) I know I want a child of my own too. I love his kids but it's heartbreaking and makes me incredibly envious and even a smidge resentful. I have nightmares about being pregnant and him leaving me because of it. I'm terrified of the possibility of becoming pregnant because I love him more than anything and don't want to lose him, but what if I do get pregnant even while on birth control? I want to know he won't leave me in that circumstance, but he won't give me any reassurance on the issue. Any advice would be appreciated!  

Oh boy. As I noted in my reply, my gut instinct is to tell her to get another boyfriend. If he would leave her if she got pregnant even by accident, come on, that's not right. At least that's my opinion.

I know what it's like to be in a relationship that is not good in some ways but still feel like I would absolutely die if he left me. More than once. And you know what? Eventually these men dumped me. Maybe I was too clingy. Maybe I scared them with my dreams of marriage and children and a nice house in the suburbs. Maybe they were just jerks. I'm no expert on relationships, but it does seem to me that if you can't discuss an issue as important as whether or not to have children, the relationship won't last. Also, if this guy is so anti-children, why doesn't he get a vasectomy so there won't be any accidents?

I would love to hear other opinions on this situation. If you read the other comments on that post, you'll see that this particular anonymous writer is not the only one struggling with this. It all comes back to the same question: Do you love this person so much that you're willing to give up having children for him or her?

Please comment.

Are marriages happier without children?

Check out these headlines:

Childfree Life: Kids Really Do Ruin Marriages, StudyFinds—Huffington post

Sorry, parents: Childless Couples Say They’re Happier Together--Jezebel

Happier Relationships for Couples Without Children--the Telegraph

 

Recent headlines shout that couples without kids have happier marriages. Down in the fine print, they back off a little, but the writers maintain that non-parenting couples pay more attention to each other and have more time and money to date, travel and generally continue the honeymoon indefinitely.

Well, that’s true. I never had children of my own, but I did have a live-in stepson, so I got at least a taste of it. Whatever you do, 24/7, when you’re responsible for a child, you have to consider that child’s needs. She needs new shoes, so you keep wearing your old ones. He’s got the flu, so you stay home from work to take care of him. You have less privacy and more expenses, and you can’t just go off to the beach, a restaurant, a show, or Maui, or even have sex without thinking about the child. Can he go with us? Do we need to get a babysitter? He’s got soccer practice, or his science project is due tomorrow, so we can’t do what we want to do. Spontaneity goes out the window.

That’s how it is with kids. And it does put a strain on marriages. You have wonderful loving moments when you thank God for your family, but you also argue over money, responsibilities, discipline, and priorities, and you don’t have much privacy. You pay less attention to your spouse because you're focused on the children. These are some of the things that made my husband and perhaps many of your partners and spouses decide they didn’t want to have any more children. Their first marriage failed, and the kids were at least part of the problem. They don’t want the same thing to happen to this marriage.

Sound familiar to any of you? Of course you tell them it will be different this time, but their previous experiences with children tell them otherwise.

The articles in the Huffington Post, Jezebel and the Telegraph don’t tell us whether the couples are childless by choice or by circumstance. I’m guessing it’s by choice. But even if it isn’t, I suppose we can take some comfort in knowing that even if we wanted children and grieve their loss, even if we see a great gaping hole in our lives, our marriages might end up being happier than those of our friends with kids.

I don't know. What do you think about all this? Do you think childless couples are happier?