38yo female. I hate my mother (most of the time); she hates hers. I know there’s people who recall their childhood as a happy time; I couldn’t wait to get out of the house and start having my own money, my own time, my own life. I’m fine with kids and kids with me, but I’ve never felt the need to have my own and the idea of having a daughter is inevitably followed by “whose life I’ll screw up as badly as Yaya screwed Mom’s and Mom mine”. “The right man” could have convinced me to do it, but apparently he was busy elsewhere. Or maybe I wasn’t paying attention.
No regrets.
59 year old straight male, no kids, never wanted any. Seriously, what for? I have made some bad decisions in my life, but this wasn’t one of them.
That is exactly me. While I don’t hate children (as in: I don’t wish they were dead), I don’t like them. I don’t respond well to them at all and at best I’m utterly emotionally indifferent to them. Even when I was a child I prefered the company of adults or pets (and I was a very outgoing and social brat). In the past I’ve only ever dated women who were also childless by choice and considered it a deal-breaker if the woman I was dating wanted kids.
My fiancee and I have been discussing it again recently. It’s not a deal-breaker for her, but she doesn’t feel as strongly about not having kids the way I do. If (big, big “if”) we decide to become parents, it will be by adoption. I am not bringing a child into an already overpopulated planet and she likes the idea of adoption too. I would rather adopt an older child who would otherwise remain in the foster care system, not an infant.
In any case, I’m 34, my fiance is older than me. We have a bit of time to still to consider kids, although it’s unlikely that we’ll have or adopt any.
Our reasons for the decision were that the bolded part is meaningless, at least to us. DNA doesn’t really matter - they are “my own”.
I am not usually offended by the idea that birth children are “my own” in a way that adoptive children are not, and I am not offended here (honest!). But I mention it because it is a distinction that I don’t make.
The reasons we adopted (two, both from South Korea - endless bragging about both available on request) were that we were both getting older, and no pregnancy seemed to be forthcoming. There is/was apparently nothing wrong with either of us, just it wasn’t working out.
We had discussed how much we were willing to do medically in order to get pregnant, and once we had exhausted those possibilities, we decided to start adoption proceedings. Because, as I mentioned, it really didn’t matter how we got our kids. We have good role models, since several of my relatives are adopted and/or have adopted. My cousin and her husband have three birth sons, and two daughters that are both bio-sisters and real sisters.
I was thirty-four when my son arrived. How do I feel about the experience? Unreservedly positive about my kids, which makes it more or less impossible to separate out my feelings about adoption vs. birth.
What Dangerosa said about adoption and age limits. When we adopted, there was a rule that the older parent could be no more than forty years older than the child. No idea if that is still the case.
Far be it from me to try to condemn anyone who doesn’t want children for not having them.
Regards,
Shodan
Two things:
One, while I have yet to meet anyone who chose not to have children and later regretted it, I’ve met a fair number of people who, while they have very much loved and enjoyed their kids, admitted that if they had it to do all over again, they would probably not have had them. Granted, this was quite a few years back, and being a mother had different implications then from those it has now. But today’s culture (in America) would never allow a parent to admit such a thing anyway.
Two, and far more important, it would be a terrible reason to have a child because you thought someday you just might want one.
I suspect that the ticking bio-clock suddenly going off thing is hugely exaggerated. Certainly if it hasn’t happened by 35, I really doubt it’s going to happen at forty and would find it virtually unbelievable at 50.
Yes, it may happen someday that you’ll look back and say “I wish I’d had kids.” But as someone (sorry, I can’t remember exactly which poster) said above, we all make many decisions that have lifelong impact, and we all have some things in life we wish we had done now that it’s too late.
Well I’m only 34 and a guy so it’s not really decided yet. I guess I always figured I’d have kids when I was making enough money to never have to deal with them.
[start hijack] if I can elaborate, every parent adopting a child out of the state system has to take 8 weeks of courses, pass various clearance checks, fingerprinting, and frequent home visits. These things will help you get your fostering license. Anyone interested in more information can lurk at fosterparents.com for a while.
Even though I’m adopting a young lady I knew for many years, it still screws with the brain chemistry of some of them to know for sure that some one loves them. As with infants the first 3 months are the hardest, and as with bio children not a decision to be taken lightly. But I am still tremendously happy I did it, and very proud of her.[/hijack over]
As to the OP: please, please do not have children (or let yourself be pressured into having children) because you think you ought to. If you graduate as a Dr. because you think your dad thinks you ought to, you can still be an artist after you graduate. You can’t stop being a parent.
Funny you should ask. . .I’m scheduled for the v-sec in about 3 weeks.
We’ve been married 7.5 years, no kids, both 34. It’s been a topic of discussion for years, and we’ve never wavered from not wanting them. The doctor thinks we’re a bit early, but I’m much more worried about the side effects of the surgery than I am the permanence of the procedure.
But, the reasons for not wanting them. . .who knows. We’re certainly ready maritally, financially, otherwise, but I just can’t see it right now. We both have so many interests and activities. We love travelling together every year.
Also, she has her own business, and it’s not like “oh, we want a kid, but it would hurt the business.” It’s more like, “I’m busy and involved with the business. I love it. Why would I want a kid around.”
But really, we just don’t want one. We couldn’t be happier with where our lives are right now. There is NEVER a day that goes by where we think, “wouldn’t it be nice if there were kids running around.”
I think Erma Bombeck referred to it as “the manger mentality” or sometimes “the mommy cocoon.” It doesn’t happen to all parents, but it’s happened to all but one couple I know who have kids. The difference is very striking, and more than a bit horrifying.
You no longer have conversations about art, or music, or the state of the world, or their jobs, or your other friends. They have monologues about the consistency of their child’s stool, or the cute thing he said/did the other day, or what percentile he hit on the height/weight charts at the last checkup, or what cartoons he likes. Sometimes, they treat you to your umpteenth blow-by-blow retelling of the saga of his birth. They will, once in a blue moon, let you get a word in edgewise, but while you’re talking, they’re thinking about how to turn things back toward the kid. It’s like the person you once knew has been replaced with a pod person–or one of those dolls with a string in the back and 10 pre-recorded messages, all of them about the kid.
It was, quite honestly, a big chunk of our initial decision not to have kids–I’d rather slit my own throat here and now than become one of those people. Up till that point, I’d always sort of figured I’d have kids–eventually. Then my friends started popping them out, and the possibility went right out the window. They had no privacy, no quiet, and no identity of their own, and I didn’t want any of those things for myself. I still don’t. Hell, I’ve even got my own room in our house to get away from my husband and the dogs when I need to.
Do I have regrets? Lord, no. I pretty much have the best of all possible worlds. When I get the chance to make it home, I have my little niece. She’s an amazingly sunny-natured kid, and she seems awfully fond of me. We crawl around in the floor giggling and having tea parties and having those sweet little moments. Then, when she’s tired and overstimulated and on the verge of a meltdown and has a load in her pants, one of us goes home. Then I’ve got peace and quiet to read or sew or garden, or whatever I want or need to do. And because I don’t have kids of my own using up my resources, I’m able to do all sorts of things for her I couldn’t otherwise.
I don’t mean to turn this into a pitting of parents, but we know people. . .man. Used to be good, good friends.
They seem incapable of turning to their kid, and going, “one minute honey. I’m talking to Trunk, and I’ll get back to you when we’re done.”
Instead, we could be talking about anything, up comes the kid. . .and our conversation is over. They don’t even give a pretense of returning to it.
I know what you’re thinking, “well, that’s not because that person is a parent. That’s because that person is rude.”
OK. Have it your way, but I never saw that person act like that before they had kids. They didn’t END conversations in the middle because . . .oooo, shiny!
They got a kid, and the kid ended up becoming the center of that adult’s being. It’s ugly and sad. And, it’s not rare.
My husband and I are 32. He had his vasectomy at 27, bless him. It was only for health insurance that we waited as long as that.
I should want a child more than I want a newfoundland puppy, or a kitten, or whatever. This has never been the case. I don’t think I can meet my standards for parenthood, and the thought of being the person known as ‘mom’ fills me with dread. The thought of being ‘auntie who is so much fun to visit’ however is actively appealing!
That said, I know some awesome kids who occasionally give me a twinge of “if there was a guarantee it’d be like so-and-so, that might be neat.” But I know my own ‘enthusiasm scale’ and that twinge is pretty far down by comparison to, say, a pony. I examine myself further and usually find that the “children might be neat” feelings are in fact more like “wouldn’t it be cool to have a captive audience to which I can hold forth and bestow my wisdom? A mind I can mold like Play Doh?” and (checking forum) IMHO that’s not a good reason to have a child. The dog listens just as well, and knows when to ignore me.
I can have the best of both worlds - be the Auntie who has a pony, a newfoundland puppy, and a kitten, thereby being the favorite relative of every child in the family!
40, married, childless by choice (and now medical necessity). No regrests. MANY sighs of relief and deep thanks. I assumed I’d have kids some day, but didn’t ever decide that’s definitely what I wanted to do. Hubby was the same way. We just never felt passionate about it, and the older we got, the more passionate we got in the OTHER direction–no kids, dammit! The experience has been great. We have all the time in the world for each other, which I know we wouldn’t have had for a great number of years, had we had children.
I decided not to have children very fairly early in life, and that decision has never wavered.
I’d much rather go through life not having children and regretting it, than having children and then regret having them.
I’m 40. Wife is 37. Married 16 years. Similar story to some already posted. One of the first things we ever discussed was our mutual intent to not have kids. She just doesn’t like them/relate to them. I do, but have ethical problems about overpopulation/the needs of those already here/the state of the world, etc.
No regrets on our decision, and we’re getting to (or have passed) the point of no return.
Hubby is 45, and I’ll be 39 in a few weeks. No kids.
I never thought of myself as a “mother” type, though Hubby assures me I’d be a good one. I don’t like spending a lot of time with kids (and we have 13 nieces and nephews, so I do have some experience with them) because to me they’re just not interesting.
And, selfishly, Hubby and I like our life the way it is; having kids would change that life forever, and probably in ways we wouldn’t like.
No regrets, and our feelings really haven’t changed over time.