Growing up, I always imagined I would have children. But in my thirties, during my first marriage, that certainty faded, leaving me on the fence. Was I childfree by choice or childless by circumstance?
Beyond my ex-husband’s health issues and our financial struggles, deeper fears made me question having children. Being in a troubled marriage only added to my doubts, and the thought of raising a child with my first husband felt unsettling. Perhaps I tried to convince myself I didn’t want children, focusing too much on the negatives. I feared not being able to discipline a misbehaved, uncontrollable child, and I lacked confidence in my ability to be a good mother. Comparing myself to my own mother, I didn’t feel I measured up to her selflessness and devotion.
How Do You Know?
I wondered if most people have a specific “why” for wanting kids—such as leaving a legacy or avoiding loneliness—or if it’s simply an innate knowing. I wished I had that same certainty as those who always knew, one way or another, such as my friends who longed for children so deeply they went to fertility specialists.
Even though I love children, I struggle with patience and find it challenging to be around loud, crying, whining, or misbehaving kids. Adding to my uncertainty was the lack of a deep connection or desire to nurture other people’s children. I adore my nieces and helped care for them as babies, but I liked being able to “give them back.” Everyone says it’s different when it’s your own child—but is that guaranteed? And is that really a good enough reason to have kids?
On the Fence
After my divorce, I remained on the fence but was open to having kids if the circumstances were right and my future partner wanted them. While circumstances can shape whether you have children, staying on the fence too long means the decision may be made for you. Wait long enough, and eventually, the choice is no longer yours to make.
When I started dating my now-husband, I still wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted kids. He has three children and doesn’t want any more, which I knew from the start. A friend once told me that when I remarried, I would want a baby—something I didn’t understand at the time. Only now do I realize the indescribable longing to create and raise a child with the love of my life.
Grieving the child I’ll never have is something I’ve only started feeling recently. I don’t regret not having a baby with my ex, even if that means never having one—just as I wouldn’t want to have kids with someone other than my husband just for the sake of it. I love our life and everything that comes with being a DINK (dual-income, no kids) couple—especially the freedom and spontaneity. Still, I have fleeting moments of sadness that my husband and I don’t—and won’t—have children together, something we both agree would have been different if we were younger.
