These days, I wince when people talk about family activities. They always seem to have all these people around, a spouse and children and maybe grandchildren, to do things with. Since my husband passed away, I just have a dog.
If you’re teetering at the point of deciding whether or not you can be happy without children, think of this as a cautionary tale. I have been married twice to men who didn’t want to have children with me. Husband number one just didn’t want them. Fred, number two, already had three kids and didn’t want any more. He backed that up with a vasectomy long before we met.
In that second marriage, I gained three stepchildren, so in some respects I was not completely childless, but trust me, for most of us, having stepchildren is nowhere near the same as having your own. There are those lovely families that blend so well the “step” disappears, but they are rare. Like most stepchildren, mine have their own real mother, and now that I’m not linked with their dad, we have no connection at all. No, that’s not true. We’re Facebook friends. But so are lots of other people.
Meanwhile, my real-life friends are busy with their kids and grandkids. Some even have great-grandchildren. Yes, I have some terrific friends, and I have a shrinking family of older relatives and cousins. I won’t be alone on the holidays and I can get a lunch date if I want it, but on a day-to-day basis, it’s not the same. Mostly, I have my work and my dog.
I wince when people talk about families.
If you’re 30-something and have a choice, think hard before you volunteer to give up having children. If you really want children, fight for it.
Sorry for bumming you out, but that’s how I’m feeling today.