Love or Children: When You Can’t Have Both is the title of my new book which came out Dec. 7. In my mind, this book, based on the Childless by Marriage blog, is totally about being childless because your partner is unable or unwilling. If you insist on having babies, you will have to leave and find someone else. It’s one or the other; you can’t have both.
But when a friend who has children saw the title and said, “I need that book,” I realized a whole other set of people might be looking here for answers they may not find. What if you were the one who had children? What if you were a single parent? Would that make it difficult to date or remarry? That’s not the subject of this blog, but a lot of us have dated or married single parents. Suddenly our relationship is complicated with babysitters, custody arrangements, a lack of privacy, child support payments, and the growing awareness that those kids will always come first in the parent’s heart. The kids may be resentful of any potential mother or father substitute or so eager for a new mommy or daddy that it’s all a bit overwhelming. You may like the person you’re dating, but that’s a lot of baggage to take on.
When the woman says, “I have two kids,” does the guy say, “Oh, great. I love kids,” or “Whoa, that’s a deal breaker”? When the guy says, “I have three kids and they’re with me this weekend,” do you get excited or nervous? Is your new girlfriend or boyfriend terrified their kids will scare you away?
In the few cases I dated men with children, they did not have custody, so it was a little easier to deal with. In one case, I got along better with my boyfriend’s sons than I did with my boyfriend. With Fred’s kids, it was easy with Michael, the youngest, but the teenagers came with massive chips on their shoulders. I wanted so bad to be a mom, but it never got as warm and fuzzy as I wanted it to. Would I rather Fred didn’t have children at all? Well, then I’d wonder why not. At his age, don’t most men have children?
Since I’ve been a widow, I have thought about what it would be like to remarry. The man would probably have children and grandchildren, and they might not accept me at all. I certainly wouldn’t replace “Mom” or “Nana.” If they loved me, how wonderful, but I fear I’d be coming in way too late for that.
What about leaving a childless relationship to have children on your own, via sperm donor, adoption, or another relationship? If you have these kids by yourself, will that sour your chances for love later on? I don’t know the answers to these questions. I’d love to hear what you think about this.
The book Love or Children is not a dating guide for single parents. There are other books on that subject. But it is interesting to look at the flip side of the childless by marriage equation. What if you were the one with the kids? Many of us have married people with children from previous relationships. In the early days, was that an attraction or a potential problem? Did you foresee the existence of those children preventing you from having your own? Would you rather they did not have kids? You’re anonymous here; you can be honest.
My sweet Annie, whom I wrote about on both my blogs last week (read my posts here and here), is home. After two weeks in the veterinary hospital when she was unable to stand or walk on her own, she’s up and driving me crazy. She’s still a bit wobbly, but getting stronger every day. I hopeful she’ll be back to normal in another week. I really didn’t know whether she would survive. I’m so grateful. Thank you all for your loving comments and prayers.
Next week, I’m going to be interviewed for the UnRipe podcast for childless and childfree women. Click here to check out some of the previous episodes. Host Jo Vraca is in Australia, but we’re recording at a civilized 6 p.m. Oregon time next Tuesday. as soon as I find out, I will let you know where and when you can hear it. The most recent episode, “Four Childless Women Walk into a Bar,” offers a wonderful discussion from varying points of view, including having a partner who doesn’t want kids, having trouble conceiving, and simply waiting too late.