As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Anita has known for about 10 years that she’ll not have children. Now 42, she hesitates to describe her dream of motherhood because it isn’t something she allows herself to think about. “To much scratching on this wound can cause it to bleed again,” she says.
But she’s well aware that there are triggers all around us that scratch and wound, and she addresses some of them in her answer to “What’s the hardest part for you about now having children?”
I certainly can relate to what she’s saying, and I sense you will too. After you’ve read her story, I hope you’ll reach out to her in the Comments.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Anita: I dreamed about nurturing and raising a child of my own, sharing her life, watching her grow.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
Anita: Circumstance. My husband had been previously married, and they had a son. Before we married we discussed the “having a baby” question, and we both wanted children. A few years into our marriage, my husband decided against having children.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
Anita: Acceptance, and depressed. I am not really sure that one can ever really overcome this. I think this is, like the death of a parent, something you learn to live with.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Anita: In short, it feels as if being without a child has robbed me of interaction with other women. I am forever lurking on the fringes. I’m not a man, but not a “real” woman either. [Following are some of the situations she finds especially difficult.]
- Stork teas/baby showers. At work, every now and then, we have a stork tea. In the beginning, I went (because it is expected of women). It was terrible. It felt as if I was going to break apart. Everyone was having fun, but I felt like running away and weeping in my office. I felt as if I was a freak. On the one hand, you have the mothers giving advice to the pregnant woman, talking about pregnancy, birth, and caring for your baby, with little personal stories to illustrate points. Scary things, good things, funny things. On the other hand, you have the young women still able to have children. And I fitted in neither of these groups. I still buy the gift, but I arrange for someone else to take it to the stork tea.
- The same can be said for gatherings everywhere. The men stand around the fire, and the women sit around discussing their children.
- Going to a “Womanhood” lecture at our church. The conversations during tea time included “Oh, I already have one child, but I am hoping for another one” and “A woman’s purpose is to have children”. I found myself surrounded by women with many children in tow, with toddlers running around. I excused myself and walked to another room, trying to control my emotions, my despair.
- Seeing pregnant woman everywhere.
- Colleagues coming to show their babies after maternity leave.
- Knowing that you are the last of your family, a biological dead end. There is no one to whom I can pass down my grandfather’s bayonet that he had fought with in the war. No one to pass my mother’s keepsakes. All my keepsakes sold to a secondhand dealer, or chucked away as rubbish. No one to tell the story of our family to. The long line of my family will be snuffed out, and it will be as if I had never existed.
LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”
Anita: “No.” Sure, I have a stepson, but he already has a mom. For a while I hoped that I could be his “other” mom, but it wasn’t to be.
LWB: What is the best part about not having children?
Anita: Listening to our neighbor’s child scream seemingly for hours every night, and feeling thankful that it is not our child.
Won’t you share your story with us? The act of answering the questions itself can be very healing, plus we’d like to support you by telling you “You are not alone.” Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is mostly at peace with her childlessness.
Cathy B says
I really struggle with hearing stories about women whose husbands decide later that they don’t want children after initially agreeing to it. Especially if they already have children of their own.
I am not being judgmental in any way when I ask why did/do you stay?
I was in a very similar circumstantial situation – (husband previous marriage, vasectomy, extreme reluctance at all efforts, eventual failed IVF.)
I know why I stayed (I always had hope.)
Do you feel resentful at all? Like you made the ultimate sacrifice? And is it worth it?
I know that when my marriage eventually broke up– when it was way too late to start over and possibly have a child with a new partner, I was very resentful, even though the childlessness was not his fault.
Probably because I was never completely at peace with it, and still am not. Mostly, like KGW, but not completely.
Anita says
Yes, I do feel resentful at times. Especially when I think about the whole situation. I stayed with him because – where else would I go? I still love him and we get along very well. I just get the impression that he isn’t always aware what the cost of his decision had been for me. He goes on with his life, interacting with babies at our church (whilst greeting the parents). And I stand awkwardly, looking at the babies and shriveling up inside.
Lin says
It’s a sad comfort, but this summer I’ve helped a friend out at her office. She has a cleaning business, and I’ve discovered how common it is with children wanting their dead parents home to be emptied and cleaned without them even going there first to go through things and pick out memorabilia and keepsakes.
My partner had two sons when we met and was very clear from the start, he did not want more kids.
It nearly killed me, but I stayed.
We met when I was 39. I never found it easy to fall in love, was never very popular among men, knew that love didn’t come easy.
There is resentment. Working on that.
There is self-scorn. Working on that too.
There is grief. I can live with that, but have learned to take care of myself. Here in Sweden we don’t name stork-tea, thank goodness, but if we did, I wouldn’t go either!!
Thank you for sharing.
Jane P (UK) says
Anita, so, so sorry to read your experience, I can relate to so many of the same triggers too and its so like the loss of a parent. You learn to live with it but never quite accept it. It definitely robs us of so much – I’ve never found female company easy – its always, always about the children (I can handle this better now but I find it irritating nowadays more than hurtful) when do women stop focusing on their children and talk about themselves or their other halves or handbags! Sorry, don’t have any great pearls only that I have felt the same and I stopped interacting and going to showers for many years and never went back to it really. I mostly go to the put with my husband and his mates and talk football and rugby! I do see female friends occasionally who do talk of their teenage children and all the troubles and think “glad I don’t have that worry” – I still (I’m 50 now) avoid younger friends and babies and think I always will. Thinking of you and thank you for sharing your story.