Is Your Nest Empty?

I’ve never had a full nest, but let’s explore the topic of children.

Rediscovering fun after kids are gone.

I’ve always had an empty nest so I’ve always tried to fill my time with hobbies and travel and running. Lots of running. As an only child until I was 18 I am perfectly comfortable being alone. I actually prefer it sometimes. It makes me wonder if I would have experienced empty nest syndrome or if I would have been like “don’t let the door hit you in the butt on your way out, go have fun in college.” It’s hard to say. In hindsight, I would have been a completely different person had I had children in my twenties or even my thirties. Based on my penchant for morphing into what my spouse wanted or at least what I presumed he wanted, I imagine I would have done the same type of transformation with a child had I birthed one from my body. I imagine I would have sacrificed much of my own life plans to “be a good mom” and in turn let go of dreams and aspirations I was able to pursue after my divorce. Goals and dreams like singing and making music, traveling to far flung destinations, quitting my job and moving to New York. It’s not as easy to uproot your life when you have a child to think about.

 I know I would have been a good mom. I’m nurturing and encouraging and fun. I also believe I would have lost a lot of myself in that role and I’m not sure that makes for a good mom. We all have our own version of the mom we wish we had or needed or wanted and usually those two personalities are incongruent. I had a great mom and there were still times I wished she were different. More of what I needed at pivotal points in my upbringing but is that fair to put on her? She is who she is and she is that person because of her own upbringing and circumstances. I wouldn’t want to think my mom wasn’t able to pursue her own hopes and dreams because of me. Is that an adult perspective? Could I have said that at 10? Of course not, it wouldn’t have even been a thought in my head because I didn’t have the emotional maturity to understand that my parents were people too. What I do know is a lot of people come into adulthood and parenthood with this false sense of I’m not going to raise my kids the way my parents raised or didn’t raise me. They refuse to be strict if they felt an iron-fisted disciplinary upbringing. They impose more exacting rules if they felt an unsettling lack of structure in their childhood. It’s all perspective and ideally, all parents do the best they know how. 

Scott and I had the children conversation very early on in our dating. He had two children from his first marriage who were 16 and 14 at the time. Because they weren’t speaking to him we didn’t have the 50/50 custody that most new relationships work out in the beginning when there are kids involved. He has always said that being a dad was the greatest surprise gift of his life and he was a great dad until they thought he wasn’t. That whole human and person part. I was 43 at the time and he was 49, not exactly the ideal age to be starting a family, but we had to have the conversation. I shared with him that I had never taken the opportunity to have children. I didn’t feel safe bringing a child into my first marriage knowing that it was precarious at best and that a child wasn’t going to fix the problems between us. I never wanted to be a mom bad enough to take that journey alone and as I was single for most of my thirties, that decision had the door to motherhood rapidly closing although I wasn’t hearing the proverbial clock ticking. When Scott and I had the conversation, the possibility was on the table. I knew he was a great partner and dad. While I had never taken the steps to freeze my eggs for this future prospect, I felt I was still in good enough health and fertility that if we really wanted to do it we could give it a go. He shared that if that was something I wanted to experience he would be willing to do it again. We went to sleep in agreement that while it wasn’t going to be an immediate venture, we were in accordance. 

I don’t know if he chewed on it through the night as I now know he is apt to do with challenging topics but the next morning he bravely told me that he had reassessed his stance from the night before and had come to the conclusion that he was in fact done with having kids. I had to give him credit for being willing to be so honest on a topic that could be a deal breaker. When you see such potential in a partnership, something like children cannot be compromised. It’s not fair to the two people in the relationship or the possible children. While it would have been fun to take that adventure with him, obviously I chose an adventure that did not include children of our own. I had no burning desire to make babies at that moment and I felt peace with that choice. I also shared that there may come a time in the future when the actuality of never experiencing motherhood may cause me grief and I may need to mourn that choice. It wouldn’t necessarily mean I’d changed my mind but I reserved the right to grieve that in whatever way I needed to if it ever came up. He still shares with people how awed he was by my self-possession and awareness in that moment. 

I’m aware that there are people in this world who think child free women are incomplete. That we are somehow less woman, less feminine, selfish, and cold. I’m also aware of what a profound life-changing experience bringing another human being into the world is, one that I will never know. Does that make me less? I’ve never thought so. And for the record, I refuse to let anyone else put that on me. I have a lot of love to give, whether that be to my lover, my family, my friends, my bonus daughters, my nieces and nephews, my furry children, or the world. I don’t need to silo it into the children I might have had. I also don’t need to explain myself to anyone. Although there are a million reasons in this day and age why remaining child-free should be an acceptable choice, I’m dumbfounded that it is met with such disapproval, judgment, and smugness.

I have joked with Scott over the years that the number one reason I’ve seen for the demise of many a marriage is the decision to have a family. Kids are rough on a relationship, from the lack of sleep/sex/connection that pervades the first few years to the sometimes conflicting parenting styles and challenges of the teenage years. I know, I know all parents say it’s worth it, I just think it can sometimes give a noble distraction from the issues that inevitably arise between two people. Relationships require constant care and nurturing to grow and remain healthy. Ideally, at the end of the day, you raise high-functioning, good human beings who go out into the world and live their lives and you get to rediscover and hopefully still really like the partner you chose to take that journey with. Fly little bird, fly.