Married Childfree Christian

Many of those who choose not to have children get asked the question why. There is not always a simple answer. There can be multiple reasons for choosing not to have children. Health issues are one reason and a reason that many consider valid. Others get married later in life and feel that having children is too risky for their age. For me the decision had mostly to do with lack of desire. Some choose not to because of financial reasons, others because of concern for the environment and over-population. Whatever the reason behind the decision, it is a personal decision and one that most childfree couples take seriously.

When my husband and I made the decision not to have children (a decision we discussed during our engagement), I didn't realize how that would impact my life. I had never heard the term "childfree" at that point. I knew that I had never really had a desire to have children, something that was talked about when I was a teenager. My mom even mentioned that I had never been very "motherly". As I began to fall in love with boys during my high school years, I realized that I would probably have children for the sake of the man I loved. Having reached that conclusion, I spent the remainder of my high school and college years assuming that I would have children. Imagine my surprise and delight when my fiance and I got into a discussion about children and I learned that he didn't really care whether or not he had children. We both determined to wait before taking any "drastic measures" (ie sterilization) to see if we changed our minds, but both felt confident that we would not have children.

In early marriage, I heard the "you'll change your mind" comment when stating we didn't plan on having children. This comment would infuriate me for it assumed that the other person knew my mind better than I did. As time went on, it became clear that choosing not to have children was a decision that few people make, especially in Christian circles. I began to realize that the decision not to have children was a major lifestyle choice, one that would impact the rest of my life. Choosing the childfree lifestyle put me in a minority, especially among other Christians. It also seems to be a controversial topic, ranging from it being considered a sin to being perceived as selfish.

Mest -- The Mother Gene?

Twice in one week, I've come across reference to a clinical study done to see if there is really a "mommy" gene and if some of us are just missing it. It's a stretch to say that little white mice correlate directly to human females, but it always has been and scientists keep using them.

The author of "Baby Not on Board" (the first book reviewed here back in December) has a blog and she posts this about it. Geneticists

I particularly like her childfree Hall of Fame concept!

Adult Female Identity

Even at this mid-point in life, a time when life-review is common, (not always a crisis), I am still looking around me for role models, especially in the generation ahead of me, for clues to good living. We all need heroes, people we admire and want to emulate. This was a huge motivating factor in the creation of Purple Women™ – the survey, upon which my book will be based. I cannot wait to delve into the analysis.

They say “you are the company you keep” and I really believe that’s true. As a childfree 40-something, married woman I fit squarely in the category of those who are deemed to have an atypical adult identity. My husband and I live happily outside the mainstream. I wonder if I am alone in my struggle to accept and define myself by my alternative “family” status? We are a family of two, a subset of two much larger complicated families, just like everyone else, but we are not like everyone else.

Identity became more of a crisis for me after my fiancée, now my husband of 8 years, moved me back to his rural hometown right before we got married. It’s the kind of place people move to when they need a bigger house in the suburb so they can raise 2.5 children. As we started out on our co-mingled journey together, we both came to realize, albeit for different reasons, that this was not the right place for us. I am glad to have had the experience. I feel I know him better for it, but I am also glad we moved on. Culturally and socially I was dying.

Over the years I have tried to define myself by my work, with so-so results. I figured, it works for men, so why not me? I got a little panicky when I would think about “my career”. I thought that since I was going not to be a mom that I had to do or be something else. I think deep down I viewed myself through how I feared other people would judge me. That I had no worth if I was not a mom, or otherwise contributing to the economy, or making a difference in the world. This is probably psychological fallout from living in a kid-centric society. I found some solace in focusing the last decade of my work life in the nonprofit sector and as a fundraiser for good causes – both as volunteer and paid staff.

When the opportunity came up to move across three time zones and one border on a company transfer, I really pushed for it. I saw it as a chance to start over, and think through just what kind of life we wanted to build. When we got posted in Canada, I was determined to seek friends who were childfree and had time for extracurricular activities and socializing. It has made all the difference.

Motherhood After 40? Nope!

I was interviewed for a news piece about the childfree vs. parents in the workplace six years ago. Not long after the piece aired, I was at a roller rink I used to skate at regularly. Upstairs in the rink was a bar for those 21 years and older. The concession stand on the first floor was closed, so I went to the bar to get a soft drink. The bartender, who I knew, gave me a look. "You said you hated kids on TV," he said. Several who were standing nearby stared at me. "I didn't say that," I told him. "I said I didn't want any." It was the same difference, according to him. He was always bragging about his kids, and stating he would have many more if he could afford to support more.

"She told everyone in Chicago that she hates children," he announced to the other patrons. "What?" one woman said in astonishment. "I have several and I love them." It is always at least one woman who has to declare how wonderful children are in a vain attempt to convince someone else to join her in the "joys" of motherhood. "How old are you?" the bartender asked. I was 38 then. "You'll change your mind when you're 40." he said. I'm now 44 years old.

Why in the heck would I want to have a child after 40? Common sense would dictate that if I wanted to be a parent, I should have had them before I was thirty and not far away from youth. It is foolishness to start a family in middle-age when the golden years are closer than they have ever been. I'm going to deal with kids in the midst of worrying about financing my retirement and perhaps while battling with menopause? Doesn't sound like a good mix to me.

I see articles all the time about women who opted to become parents in their middle years. The comments are all the same, "I feel fulfilled", "This is the best time of my life", "The baby is my little miracle", blah, blah. What were they thinking? I would assume if you have a toddler and you're twenty-five, you have a lot more energy to chase after it, then you do at forty-five. I also understand that older mothers are often left out like the weird kid on the playground when they are among younger moms. The younger moms and dads lives don't look like that of ol' mama and papa at that point. Not a lot of common ground between the two, I'm guessing. Plus the other older moms' kids are not in diapers anymore; in fact, some of those women have grandchildren now.

I'm used to being able to get up and go, do what I want, and come back when I feel like it. I've been doing it for a long time. Why would I suddenly stop that for 2:00 AM feedings?

Friendships With Moms

I don't like calling my middle niece. She's 35 years old, lives in another state, and has four sons--two teenagers, and two still in grade school. Our conversation is constantly interupted by her yelling at the kids. No "excuse me" or "could you hold on a moment?", just a sudden blast of expletive deleteds as she gets on her sons about something they are doing or not doing at that moment. Another childfree friend of mine had to dissolve a friendship because of that issue. "Besides," she explained, "we really didn't have much in common."

Many of the women I know have adult children, so their conversation no longer primarily consists of what cute/annoying things their kids have done. We can find common ground on other things like work problems, being time-challenged, and the changes that come with being middle-aged, for example. It can be challenging to have common ground with someone who has small children, unless they have other interests outside of motherhood. In my experience, it is easier to find that with a mom who works outside the home, as opposed to one who is a stay-at-home parent.

Do They Enjoy Their Kids?

My mother and I were returning home after running errands one hot summer day. I was fourteen, I believe, and Mom was in her mid-forties. We were coming towards the mom & pop grocery that was a half a block away from the house, when we saw a toddler waddle into the middle of the street. A car was rapidly coming towards the child.

Mom and I froze, neither one of us close enough to move the kid out of danger. Fortunately, the driver saw the kid and stopped, just inches away. My mother said, "Ooh, we were about to see a chilling scene!" Seconds later, the kid's mother, who had been standing on the sidewalk joking with her friends, stomped into the street and roughly snatched her child next to her. She cursed at the child and half-dragged the kid away with her. My mother shook her head. "She ain't got no business gettin' mad with that child because she wasn't watching it," she said. "Nobody told her to get pregnant in the first place." The toddler's mother had to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old.

I have noticed a similar level of frustration among a lot of parents. Fathers who ignore the whines of their kids as they walk ahead of them on the street, mothers who always seem to yell and bark orders at their offspring. I wonder why some of them fiercely defend their choice to have children, when it appears they don't enjoy the fact that they had any.

About 15 years ago, I was out doing some shopping on a bitterly cold winter day when I heard a woman yelling at the top of her voice. She had stopped her child in the middle of the sidewalk to berate her. The woman's daughter may have been seven or eight years old. The girl looked confused as to why her mother was so angry and harsh. It sounded as if she was yelling at the child simply because the child existed and was in her way. I felt sorry for the child. I could imagine what hell she had to deal with at home.

An ex-boyfriend of mine had a son by his ex-wife, and a daughter by a woman whom he walked out on not long after their child was born. He took his son in after his ex-wife reported that the boy was getting out of hand. He reportedly acted like a doting father the first few months his daughter was born. It was all an act. Later, I discovered he had not been paying child support regularly to his ex-wife. From what I observed, the relationship between he and his son was not close. My ex also spent a lot time yelling at his son and keeping him under punishment--when he was at home to do so, that is. Making money and juggling a harem of women was more important to my ex. His ex-live-in-girlfriend had to take him to court and have his check garnished to get child support for their daughter. The last time I ran into his son, it was apparent that the boy had moved into gang affiliation. From what I have heard elsewhere, my ex doesn't have much of a relationship with his now teenaged daughter, either.

Maybe they regret having children. Unfortunately, children aren't gifts that can be returned to the store because one is not satisfied.

Seen At The Nursing Home

My late sister was a nurse's aide. She held down two jobs at two different nursing homes. She would tell me stories about some of the patients who would wait in vain for people, usually their children, to visit them.

One of the saddest stories my sister ever told me was when a patient passed away. The RN on duty put a call in to the patient's son. He told the RN to throw the body in potter's field, because he didn't care, and hung up in her face.

Another example of the fact that having children does not guarantee that they will be there to look after one when the winter years come in.

Childfree In Social Service

There are constant statements thrown around my workplace regarding, "we must help the children", "we are here for childen", etc. When I first started working for the agency, I assumed that most employees had children because the very nature of the work that's done here is child-centric. Slowly, I noticed that more than a few, including some upper management employees, do not have children, and do not plan to have any.

The fact that so many childfree people are social workers further shuts down the theory that all childfree people hate children. Those that can't tolerate children in any shape or form are not willingly going to get a degree in social work and come work in such an agency. I do think that those social workers who opt not to have children have made the decision based on what they have learned about parenting and child psychology. They have weighed all of the pros and cons and come to a solid conclusion for themselves. They have also made the decision based on what they witness every day, especially if they provide direct service to clients.

Of those in social work who do have children, I find myself in non-agreement with them concerning how to deal with negative behaviors in children, as well as setting boundaries. They appear to use the same "Let's give Johnny options and allow him to express himself no matter how he does that" rule that they use with their clients. I remember my boss telling me that he had been spanked once as a child. He never told me why, but the look on his face told me that whatever he had done must have been a major infraction. The conversation came up after I had been insulted--over the phone--by a couple of the kids who live on the premises via a prank call they had done over a weekend.

After I played the offending message back to my boss, I told him, "I don't appreciate that, and I will not be disrespected by these kids here." The staff members who work with those two kids assured me they had admonished them for their actions. I never received an apology from the perpetrators directly, however. My boss attempted to apologize for them, but I told him point blank, "You can't apologize for someone else's stupidity." In my opinion, the kids got the equivalent of a slap on the wrist, especially when I discovered they had been prank calling other places that day as well. It also didn't help that my boss felt that I should just drop the matter as if it was nothing. The message they left--complete with a racial epithet--was offensive to me. It warranted more action than just having a stern talk with the perpetrators. "You don't negotiate with kids, you don't make deals with them, you don't argue with them. You punish them properly when they do not act right," I snapped at my boss.

I often feel that those of us who don't work directly with the kids--the support staff, the maintenance crew--are often at the mercy of a system that won't take more of a hard line in preventing and ending negative behavior patterns. There used to be a program in the building that was staffed by two women. Our floor, the administrative wing, experienced a reign of vandalism between fall of 2004 and late summer of 2005, perpetrated by kids who had somehow managed to get a hold of some keys. The acts would take place late at night, long after we had gone home for the day. I became more and more incensed as time went on, when no concrete action appeared to be done to stop the incidents. The two women became fearful. They are no longer here. The uneasiness of not feeling secure in the workplace because of the kids' actions was not the main reason they left, but it was one of the reasons. One of them told me not long before she quit: "We didn't sign up for this."