Tell what the benefits are of not having children.

I have a child-free aunt and uncle. They are happy, fulfilled people. They own a beautiful home, if not a particularly expensive one. They’ve had years to make it just what they want. They have grown-up, time-consuming hobbies. They garden, she bakes and crafts, he tinkers with tractors. They birdwatch. They keep their own schedule. They collect things, and have room to display their collections, their stuff, their way. They have several guest rooms and frequently invite relatives and friends for visits.

They’re financially secure. They volunteer, they donate money. They help people.

They lead an enviable, aspirational life. Because they don’t have kids.

Why didn’t they? I really don’t know. There’s an age difference between them, they had a long engagement, maybe it was too late by then. Maybe it was a decision they made. I’ve never asked, in case it’s a sensitive subject. But it’s my impression that they are truly content. It’s worked out very well.

Try Volunteer Match or check your local craigslist under community>volunteers.

I have something like 200 hours of PTO saved up. Some of my coworkers with kids have none because they have to take time of when their kids are sick.

My cousins family tend to get pregnant while their in their teens. Instead of going on all the roller coasters when we went to the amusement park they took their kids on the kiddie rides.

Vacations- you’re kids are probably going to want to go someplace different, and be a lot less tolerant of road trips than you. I’ll drive 6 hours to Chicago happy with my iPod and no complaining, whining, bored, and carsick kids in the back. Any your kids will want to go see Mickey at Disneyland even if you’d rather go to New York.

The main reason I don’t have kids is I’ve always been to afraid to ask a woman on a date, but philosophically I’ve struggled with depression and Asperger’s and hearing issues and I can’t imagine bringing someone else into this world to suffer. An there’s been a string of bad stuff going on in our family, we’re guaranteeing it will die out with my sister and I.

Years ago I was able to volunteer at child protective services in their abused medical clinic. And I was a young man and people (which I think is bullshit) view us with suspicion. Actually, they loved having me there. I was able to do a lot of things that the women there couldn’t do, and connect with some of the children better.

They’re always looking for good people.

Just like this 70-year-old, Vietnam vet and high school math teacher who comes off as stern, even cold, to his students, but volunteers as a ‘baby snuggler’ at the local children’s hospital and is beloved by the staff there.

I love that you said it.

No one opts out of parenthood because of vomit stories, so they probably aren’t helpful, but there is a lot of self sacrifice in parenthood that you would have cheerfully made, but now you don’t have to. Time and money are the big two. There are no shortage of things you can direct those resources to. What do you really care about? Is there a cause you support, or a skill you would like to develop, or an experience you’d like to have that you can pursue with the resources that you would have sacrificed to parenthood?

I just remembered another!

You don’t have to worry about ever being the subject of anyone’s therapy sessions years from now. Most of us have an unshakeable memory of something awful that one of our parents said to us when we were little, that kind of messed us up. Some folks are downright dysfunctional because of what their parents did. You will never have to worry about being the subject of this kind of horror story.

I had wondered how she was doing … am glad you are still in contact with her. We went to an Amelia Earhart themed restaurant the other day & I was thinking of her. My husband & I are childless too & probably will never have any simply because we cannot afford to do so. HUGS I hope you find peace.

PS** Pbbth ** Forgive me for Laughing :slight_smile:

Bullshit on the cheerfully - no one cleans up puke cheerfully, or misses work to go into a conference with the school principal about their daughter’s defiance cheerfully. Or misses the one night out with their girlfriends in six months because their husband has to work late and they need to stay with the kids cheerfully.

The little moments might make up for it. But, quite honestly, maybe not. One of the great things about never having children is that you can keep the fantasy about what a great parent you would have been. How you would never have that moment of “why did I do this” and the guilt that follows. That you’ll never wonder if your kids character defects are something that are your fault - maybe I SHOULD have enforced more discipline - or less - or been there for them more often - or not been so helicoptery. My son was adopted after three years of trying - my daughter was a surprise - we did not go into this on a whim. You know the biggest difference in my attitude about my son and my daughter - every one of my daughters faults (she is a wonderful kid, but absentminded, flighty, overly emotional, anxious) are things that either drive me nuts about my husband or are reflections of my own faults. You think that having a bio kid is about “look, she has my nose, and my husband’s sense of humor” - and it is, but its also about “she forgot her backpack again! And where did I leave my purse?!”

On the plus side, parenting teaching you humility.

Sorry for not being an active participant in this thread today, but I’ve been in and out of meetings. I did pop in and read a few times however, and had tears in my eyes the bulk of the day. Thank you all so much for your contributions to this thread - this is why I love the SDMB. Such a wide variety of experiences and perspectives I would never find in real life. Know that you all have impacted and changed a real person.

Luckily for me, I had my three week therapy appointment this evening - a perfect opportunity to discuss this. Unfortunately, today was the first day my therapist’s pregnancy belly was noticeable - I had no idea she was pregnant. I don’t hold that against her, she’s still a good therapist, and neither of us mentioned it. Still a shock, considering the circumstances. (And how is it that Big Bang is on the TV right now, and the topic of discussion at this moment is how Bernadette does not want kids and Howard is struggling with not being a dad? Coincidences…)

We had a good session, and it’s interesting that the topic of volunteering to help with young children came up in this thread - particularly related to the cuddling aspect of it. When discussing why I was so fearful (it really is a fear at the base of it for me, I think) of the prospect of not having a child, one of the big things I identified that I’d miss out on was the cuddles of a toddler. I have a two year old second cousin that I see fairly regularly, and cuddles from her are amazing, albeit short lived. I’m not her mom, and if she needs a real cuddle, she runs to mom. That’s one of the things that I’d miss that makes me hurt on the inside.

Logically and rationally, I can see the appeal of not having kids. I want to be financially well off, I want to travel, I want to have career options (I have a huge interest in international work, and the guarantee that I will be provided with that opportunity through my company), I want to sleep when I want, etc. It’s just working towards letting go of what I’ve wanted since I can remember, and finding a way to cope with the heart break of knowing I’ll never have those little adult/child relationship experiences exactly as I expected (i.e. ‘I need mommy’ cuddles from a child of my own).

I agreed not to make any final decisions until at least November. I’ve also agreed to focus on myself, and try not to think of the ‘what if’s’ too much. Thanks again to everyone for making this a little bit easier for me. :o

She’s doing ok - an 11 year old with a teenager attitude. :wink: She spends every weekend with a member of the family, and we end up with her every three or four weekends. She’s very excited to start cycling this summer (we both race, and bought her a real road bike last summer) and participating in kids races. She’s focused on being ‘healthy’ right now as much as possible - her food options at home aren’t great, but she does the best she can. I am worried that she is turning in to a woman though - she’s developing and got her period a few months ago. Ack! So far, no interest in boys, thankfully. We’re all keeping her involved in as many activities as possible to keep her away from boys because the fear is she’ll look for a father figure (she has none) and fall in to a bad place.

At the ages of 45/55, after a lifetime living like we’d never grow up, (working in bars, staying up late, sleeping in every day, moving with a fast crowd, travelling for months at a time, basically doing whatever we wanted whenever we wanted, no mortgage, no credit card debts, etc), we bought a house and took on caregiving for our last surviving, bedridden, parent. For six long years. Hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I was crushed when it ended.

The rest of the family were amazed at our willingness and fortitude. But the truth was we were the only ones with lives that could possibly step in and only our lives could possibly accommodate the amount of care required. Everyone else had kids and families and careers, etc.

And yes, our peers with families, who had been faced with similar issues and found themselves forced to make different choices, were suddenly looking at us with new eyes.

None of this would have been possible if we’d had a family of our own. Just because you won’t be having children doesn’t mean that you can’t sacrifice for others, or have meaningful impact on others with your loving kindness.

As a poster up thread mentioned, the impact you can have on any number of children in your orbit, even without ‘ownership’, is endless. There is no end of children who need a kind word, all around you. You can never know when such an encounter can make a huge impact.

Good Luck to you. I have a feeling you’ll be just fine when you get through this part!

My son is disabled. He’s wonderful, and challenging, and will never be neurotypical. Our lives revolve around all of the usual things (school, work, commute) and all the stuff I forgot to put on my life list (doctors, counselors, therapists, trainers).

Take this time and take care of yourself. You never know what’s around the corner. Best wishes.

As a few folk have mentioned already in this thread, your time is not your own with kids. I had four, but the number doesn’t matter: In fact, I think you’re more beholden to the kid if there’s only one, but that’s probably fodder for another thread.

If you want horror stories, there’s the time when all four got chicken-pox…10 days apart, so I was nurse and bed-maid for over a fucking MONTH straight. Wasn’t pretty.

When the third was born he needed neonatal intensive care for two weeks, then further hospital treatment for another 3 wks. Try juggling the needs of older kids whilst wanting to be at the bedside of your sick newborn. Ain’t easy.

Kids are expensive: even if you deny them every new-fangled gadget on the market, there’s still basic stuff that they need. By the time they get to school, the costs have soared astronomically. School fees, computers, uniforms, camps and excursions…

They’re annoying unless you like battling with ‘kid reasoning’ 24/7. You’ll never have a tidy house again, and I really hope you like washing clothes and scrubbing floors when the remains of this morning’s Weeties got stuck onto the hardwood like glue. Sucks even more if you have carpet.

They fuck up your social life, your sex life and your work life. Who looks after the kids during the school holidays if you’re working? Can you just leave your job for the day if they’re sick? The logistics involved in being a working parent are just amazing, and my hat gets doffed to those who can do it smoothly. Oh, helps to have a doting grandparent around who can pick up the slack just with a phone call! Not everybody has that sort of luxury though.

I won’t start on the teenage years because they’re just hell.

Anything more you wanna know?

:smiley:

I have two boys with my wife: one 3 (nearly 4) years old, and one 1-month old. While I love the hell out of them (well, maybe not the constantly crying poop factory so much, yet) I am fully cognizant of what I gave up to have them.

Like to sleep? Ever? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

Hell Week is probably 1,000 times easier for parents than those who have never had children. Even when they don’t wake you up by screaming louder than any drill sergeant at 03:00, they have irregular sleep schedules.

Except for mornings. Forget about ever sleeping in again. You will be getting up somewhere around dawn (whatever hour that is, and thank all the gods and the leader of your country if you have daylight saving time because otherwise that could be something ridiculous like 04:50 during the summer) for years.

Like having money? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

It’s the death of 1,000 (financial) paper cuts. There’s no one thing that bleeds you, it’s the incidentals, plus planning for the future. Anything and everything that uses money gets de-prioritized for the kids’ needs.

Like traveling? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

Luggage increases exponentially. I know what you’re thinking: “What the fuck?! They’re so small!” I have no idea how it happens, since I’m a minimalist traveler by nature, but it’s absolutely true.

I used to visit my family in the US with my wife using one large piece of luggage (usually my 60 L hiking backpack), and one average backpack each, for a 2 week trip. The last time we went, with our then one-and-a-half-year-old, we had my backpack stuffed to bursting, a moderately large suitcase also at full capacity, bags for each of us (including a large bag for the kid) for carry-on, and I think neither my wife or I were carrying more than half of our carry-on in personal items.

We packed even more lightly than normal, so had about 3 days worth of clothes for ourselves, which we planned to launder on the trip. I don’t even want to think about what traveling with two children will be like.

Like spontaneity? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

If you feel like staying out all night having fun, you can. If you want to go on a spur of the moment trip somewhere, you can. If you want to stay up all night (voluntarily), you can.

With kids, you have to plan waaaaaayyyyyyyyy ahead of time, and then still have everything turn to shit at the last minute. Our last trip to the US involved an emergency re-schedule when our boy had a fever the day before we were supposed to leave. We were lucky enough to be able to push it back by a few days without serious charges, but it was a close thing. We’d made the reservations 3 months before.

If you <maniacal laughter> attempt to do anything without your kids, especially when they’re young, you have to find a sitter you literally trust with their lives, and who is willing to deal with a possible hours-long screaming tantrum. My boy is damn near an angel compared to many kids, but on the couple of times his grandmother has had him overnight — when I was on a work trip and my wife was in the hospital, for example — it was a long time before she was willing to babysit him even briefly during the day.

Like sex? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

Since my first son was born, I’ve had sex exactly enough times to get her pregnant again, with an intervening fun time oh…about thrice preceding that. I don’t believe I’m exaggerating much, if at all. Look at my kids’ ages and do the math.

Babies seem to have a sixth sense about when parents are potentially creating a competitor for love, affection, and access to all that lovely-lovely lactation, and they react by screaming. Usually at exactly the point where either of you least wants to hear screaming. If there’s anything more boner-killing than seeing your wife leap off the end of your dick like it’s a cattle prod, and run into the bedroom to take care of the baby, I really don’t want to know about it. And the blue-balls aren’t fun either.

Like sanity? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

Have I mentioned sleep deprivation? Besides that, you won’t have any time you can count on to do things you want or need to do. It’s likely that you’ll only have the use of one arm until the baby begins to crawl, and then you’ll need to pay constant attention to keep it from killing itself. It’s more stimulating than watching paint dry, but only just, and you will be unable to have more than half your attention on anything else if the baby is unconfined and conscious. It’s truly miraculous that any of us survive to childhood, much less adulthood.

When older, children still require and/or demand attention. Hope you like activities and TV programs programs aimed at a mental age of 3–5, because that’s what you’ll be doing or watching every day until they are old enough to go to kindergarten. Forget being able to read (an adult) book, or watch (an adult) program or movie, or do any (adult) activities. If they’re hungry, or tired, or sick, or just in a bad mood, kids are hell to be around, much less take care of.

And there’s the flip side. I’ve never been driven to near homicidal rage (post-puberty) until I had kids. Anyone even looking like they’re thinking of possibly causing harm to your child will have you ready to gnaw your way through the person’s throat, suck out their eyeballs, and skin their corpse with your fingernails if that’s what it takes to protect your progeny. And that might be within nanoseconds of wanting to strangle the damn kid yourself. Emotional stability? Parents haz nun.

Like health? Congratulations, you don’t have kids!

You won’t have much flexible time to work out, though you might be able to negotiate with your spouse to dedicate a set time. Forget dropping in at the gym whenever you feel like it after work or on weekends. You won’t have those anymore.

You won’t be able to use both hands to prepare meals most of the time — without subjecting yourself to the joyful sounds of a screaming baby. Prep for healthy meals will require forethought, logistical planning, and a good dose of luck (now that a dose of laudanum isn’t available to administer).

Might as well forget about eating on any kind of a schedule either. Babies nurse when they want (and believe me, you’ll know when they want) and children take priority if you know what’s good for you. (See: sanity, above.) You might, if you’re lucky, get to finish a meal — eaten in shifts with your spouse — within an hour or two of when you prepared it. I’ve gotten home at 17:30 and finished dinner at 20:30, after the kid is (finally) asleep. And I only have this chaos for dinner since I get up earlier than everyone else for breakfast, and eat lunch at work; my wife has this 3 meals a day, which obviously encourages snacking and eating junk food over more complicated healthy meals.

Did I mention you won’t be getting enough sleep? Yeah, good luck with the increased tendency toward obesity, depressed immune system (complicated by the fact that kids are disease vectors without peer, and we like to put them in [del]concentration camps[/del] educational institutions that seem optimized for spreading infections), and less resilience to stress caused by sleep deprivation.

Oh, stress, there’s a good one. Unless your former job was as an air traffic controller, or armed service member in an active war zone, you probably have never encountered the levels of stress you face as a parent. After (hopefully) keeping them alive through the infant and toddler stages, they keep testing your ability to cope with the unexpected, and (hopefully) maintain their corporeal existence.

There’s a reason people with multiple kids are blasé about things that normal humans freak out about. “Timmy is doing backflips off the roof onto rakes while holding scissors? Well tell him to knock that shit off unless he’s got his homework and chores done.”


On the less light-hearted side, like others have said, you don’t have to worry about the illness, dismemberment, mental retardation, disastrous life event, or death of someone you poured so much time and energy into. I know from experience that loss of a loved one is extremely hard to deal with, but even as a relative newcomer to the parenting thing, I can already see that having something happen to one of my children would be catastrophic.

As much as I love my wife, I think I could cope pretty well after a while. It certainly wouldn’t be worse than when my mother died from cancer when I was 17. But I think I’d seriously contemplate a dive off a building if I lost my son.

Adoption, mentoring, auntie-ing, and other child-related avenues are still open. And, there’s always this option too.

For me, the really big difference is that when you don’t have kids, your relationship is all about focusing on each other - enjoying each other, making each other happy, taking care of each other, growing closer to each other. Once you have kids, an awful lot of that time and energy goes into who’s picking up the kid from playschool and working out a united front on the toddler tantrums and what’s that in the baby’s mouth? It’s still wonderful, but it’s not the same thing - and being able to focus totally on each other is something to be treasured.

You’d never have those experiences exactly as you expected even if you did have kids. Kids have an amazing capacity for throwing a monkey wrench in all your little secret hopes and dreams and plans for them, what with this whole “being unique individuals” business.

Answered without reading the thread.

I still get to help raise my nephews, and there are aspects in which I know I’m making a positive impact in their lives (and I do hope the negative one is minimal), but I was also able to hand them back when their diapers needed changing. If they’re having a horribly-irritating day, often it turns out I’m able to help them get better; when it isn’t the case, I know it will soon pass :stuck_out_tongue:

Note that I never had an enormous need to have children: I got to co-parent my brothers, to the point of being their primary caretaker for the four years I was in HS (the first two, Mom was busy being Mrs. Important Man and Dad barely came home; the third one, Mom was bedridden and depressed and Dad was unemployed and depressed; the last one, Mom was still bedridden and depressed but Dad got both employed and better); I also was terrified of being as bad a mother as many of my relatives, and by the time I realized I probably wouldn’t have been it was getting on late. So I don’t have anywhere near the regrets of someone whose childhood dreams involved having children: at the age my classmates started having vague dreams about having kids, I was changing diapers.

It’s okay, and normal and expected, to mourn the life you thought you’d have.

If it makes you feel better, on the other side of things, you would still be mourning, because you lose a lot when you have kids as well. It’s hard to say these things without the obligatory “I love my kids,” but the truth is that parenthood isn’t what anyone expects, and you end up mourning both the fantasy of parenthood you had and your old life. Nobody gets what they expect out of this while life thing.

Parents of healthy bio kids never have a chance to mourn the loss of the fantasy child. The real child comes and they are so busy, and sleep deprived, that the vision of the fantasy child is gently corrected with reality.

Infertile couples and adoptive parents and parents of special needs kids, they mourn that kid - the one that was never going to exist anywhere but their brain anyway. But its a big deal.

When we decided to adopt I had to give up that kid who’d have my - or my husbands - eyes and smile (and none of my faults) - a girl who’d read Anne of Green Gables and go to Prince Edward Island with me. It was tough. I got a kid that is athletic and musical and wonderful - but those weren’t traits I was expecting. Then we had our daughter - and she is also wonderful - but she has blue eyes - a smile that came from some unknown ancestor - and I think every single one of my husband’s or my most annoying character traits amplified by youth and a strong will. And NO interest in Anne of Green Gables.