Feminism
What It’s Like When You Don’t Have Kids At 50
Regrets? I have a few.
A lot of people will tell you age is just a number. You know what I have to say to that?
Bullshit.
My biological clock is striking midnight and there’s no turning back.
I was a party girl.
I spent my 20s and 30s in style. I partied like a rockstar, traveled the world and had a weekend pad in The Windy City with a wraparound balcony overlooking Lake Michigan.
It’s the life most people dream of. There’s only one problem. I never thought about what my journey would look like 20 years down the road.
I always thought I would have kids “later.” And sometimes, I didn’t think I wanted them at all. Why? I was having the time of my life.
The problem is, time stops for no one. And, as many people tried to tell me, no one avoids the menopause train.
Some of my friends had children.
I remember how I felt when friends started “crossing over.” Death of life as we knew it.
Convertibles and sports cars gave way to minivans. I didn’t want to be a part of the minivan world. I despised it. It wasn’t convenient for my elaborate lifestyle. The thought of changing dirty diapers and 2 a.m. crying sessions scared the hell out of me.
Ten years later, diapers were replaced with birthday parties and soccer practices. I supported from the sidelines, taking on the role of “Aunt Susie” to my closest friends’ kids. In my mind, I was still a part of the minivan world, but in a planned and convenient way.
Five years later, my surrogate nieces and nephews became teenagers. Just like their parents, I was less included. Multiple hugs became a quick hello and goodbye.
Now, I’m 50. Only one of those kids keeps in touch with me. The others have faded away.
Holy hot flashes!
No amount of convenience can change the reality that my biological clock is about to strike midnight. The option to have children with my own eggs has passed, and that’s a lot to wrap my mind around.
There is a definite interruption in the middle of the night, but it’s not a child crying. It’s hot flashes, the need to change clothes because you’re absolutely soaked and emotional turmoil for absolutely no reason other than that your hormones have decided to go wild.
Was it worth it?
I don’t know. I still have an amazing life. Chicago has given way to a beautiful second home in Florida. I have a fiancé who is the love of my life. My parents are still alive and healthy.
But there’s one big thing missing from the equation.
Children.
All of the things I committed to were temporary. There’s nothing left other than amazing memories. There’s no one to pass things onto, no one to look after me when I’m older (not that anyone with children has that guarantee).
Sure, those nieces and nephews will think about me from time to time when I hit my older years, but they’re not my flesh and blood.
My current biggest fear is my parents dying. I’m terrified. They’re still my world.
If I had had children, there would be a natural progression of life. Everything has a beginning and an end, and I would be looking forward to the possibility of a new beginning as a grandparent.
However, the way I planned my life, there is no natural progression. The reality is this: I avoided the “inconvenience” of having children to have a good time.
And there’s more…
A neighbor recently asked my fiancé if we planned to have children. Surprised, he responded “We’re 50.” (She thought we were younger than we are.)
That’s when another reality hit me.
If I were younger, we could have children. He could still have children now, in fact. The menopause train is not at his doorstep. Only mine.
Yes, we could adopt. But do we want to read the back of a formula bottle with reading glasses, knowing we would be 70 when they graduate high school, taking care of aging parents in between diaper changes? No.
Looking back, avoiding the “inconvenience” of raising children for the sake of having a good time was the biggest mistake I could have made.
Time stops for no woman. There’s no way around it.
So, to any 20- and 30-somethings out there reading this, I have one question to ask you today. What do you want your life to look like down the road?
