Mourning the Children Who Never Were
By Marie
I turned 39 this year, and I’ve been surprised at how this has affected me emotionally primarily because, as a single woman, I am facing the reality that I most likely will never have children. Apparently, all the promises I’ve been given regarding my future family-particularly in my patriarchal blessing—will go unfulfilled. I’ve placed a great deal of hope in those promises, and consequently, my faith has taken a real beating.
Over the years, I have learned to revise my dreams of a family. I started out wishing for a happy, noisy family of four or five kids. Then, as the years went on, I thought three kids would be wonderful. Later, I decided two kids would be a blessing. Eventually, I knew even one would be a miracle. And now I am staring at a future devoid of a family of my own, and I just don’t know how to revise my dreams anymore.
If I ever do marry—a possibility that seems increasingly remote—I know that my husband will likely already have children. But while I would hope to be a positive influence in their lives, I will not be their mother. They will already have a mother. I know I could look into adoption, but I believe that children do best with both a mother and a
father. Not only that, but I don’t think I’m cut out for single-parenthood.
It seems more acceptable to grieve over infertility—there are blogs and support groups and Church magazine articles for that. But in my childlessness, my fertility, or lack thereof, is irrelevant. Childlessness among the never-married, if it is mentioned anywhere at all, is usually a tangent to a larger conversation.
Pain resulting from miscarriage or the death of a child is almost universally understood. But for me there is no funeral to attend, no headstone to visit. There are no sympathy cards or understanding hugs. There are no public rituals or private, concrete symbols to
commemorate what I have lost. I am not saying my situation is worse; it’s not. It’s just that at times I feel an enveloping, overwhelming grief that is neither seen nor acknowledged, and I have no spouse to carry it with me. It is my burden alone.
So what do I do now with my dreams of a family and my hope for my future? How do I reconcile my faith with promises that now seem empty? Yes, I know I can have a family in the next life, and I suppose that should give me comfort. But it doesn’t. The language in my patriarchal blessing seems to refer clearly to children in mortality. Why would God promise me my heart’s desire and then withhold that blessing from me? Maybe I screwed up somewhere and no longer merit that blessing. But wouldn’t He give some clue somewhere about what I did wrong? Has anyone else dealt with this and emerged with their faith intact? I’m aching to find some comfort and peace amid all of this.
Please help.
Not saying this will always happen, but I have a dear friend that married at 42 and had 2 great kids. It was late in life, but she found a great husband and had kids after she had given up on such a family. I know another woman that never had her ‘own’ kids but married someone with children and she happily raised them as your own. Every family is different, every story different. Your dream may have been for one reality, but you may still have parenthood and much happiness in the future. And if you are never a mother, I can understand how you feel a loss, but I hope you can find peace and happiness on your own path.
Comment by Eva — July 17, 2009 @ 2:32 pm
Marie, I don’t have any answers. I just want to let you know that I hear your pain and grief, and I am sorry.
Comment by Stephanie — July 17, 2009 @ 3:05 pm
“Pain resulting from miscarriage [snip] is almost universally understood.”
Were that this were true. Which is in no way intended to diminish the grief expressed here, which is all too real and all too often unacknowledged.
Comment by Wm Morris — July 17, 2009 @ 3:09 pm
I am married, but found out two months ago that I will not be able to have children. I’ve returned to the blessings I have been given and re-read the promises about being a mother I have received. Your “own” children can still be adopted children. Your “own” children can still be many things. That is probably not much consolation.
Your situation is unique, but I wouldn’t give up hope. I am sorry for the deep grief that you feel right now. I believe that all of the things we go through are one big (sometimes endless-seeming) trial. It’s to prove to the Lord that we will be faithful no matter what we face. I think of Abraham who was promised seed that numbered the sands of the sea, and then how he was asked by God to kill his only son. Our job is not to question, but to believe and have faith. It’s often easier said than done, so I wish you peace and hope in your climb up the mountain.
Comment by AOW — July 17, 2009 @ 3:16 pm
I am a single woman of 26, and I do not claim to understand your emotion, or to have a solution, but my heart goes out to you. I have two younger married sisters, and sometimes I feel like my heart is breaking for want of children of my own.
Comment by Charis — July 17, 2009 @ 3:17 pm
I am sorry. That was a beautiful post, heart-wrenching to read. There is always hope that you will get the family you’re dreaming of– late marriages can sometimes adopt if they can’t have children of their own. But I hope regardless of whether or not you marry you find a way to have peace and happiness with your life.
I think this issue is not often addressed because it is becoming more common in society to have children if you want them whether you are married or not. We should address this issue more in the church where we constantly hear a child should have two parents. I wonder if it is better for a child to have no parents than to be adopted by a single, loving parent? You are right, though, it would be an incredibly challenging role and only you know what is best for you.
Comment by Alyssa — July 17, 2009 @ 3:23 pm
My older brother is from my father’s first marriage. He was 7 years old when my parents married and, according to him, my mother is just as much his mother as his biological mother. In front of his bio mom, out of respect, he’ll refer to my mother by name, but when addressing her, talking about her to others, and even in his cell phone she’s simply “mom”. When my mother married my father, she told my brother that he didn’t need to call her “mom” but he says that it didn’t take long for him to feel like that was the only suitable title for my mother.
When I got older, I asked him why his relationship with my mom differed so much from relationships many of my friends had with their stepparents, “I call her ‘mom’ because she is my mom. She earned that title from day one. She has always been there for me and I know that she loves me just as much as, if not more *wink* than, she loves all of her biological children.”
I share this story because I think people underestimate the limitless potential of love. The example of my mom & brother’s relationship has taught me that being and having a family is a choice.
I have several women in my life who are unrelated but I love as dear as my own mother. I call them my “aunts” but I honor them, along with my mother, every mother’s day–they are my other mothers. Many of my aunts don’t have children of their own, but they have enriched my life in a way no other one can. I am so richly blessed because of their selfless involvement in my life.
If I were you, I would look for more opportunities to be involved in the lives of the children surrounding you. I’m blessed to have siblings 20+ years younger than myself and many nephews, nieces, and younger cousins who I make a point of seeing and spending time with. They may not be my offspring, but the Lord definitely fills that emptiness, so well described above, in my own heart when I am with them.
Children, whether they are your own or not, have such sweet and gentle spirits. Even the Savior understood the need to minister and be ministered to by little ones when he said “Suffer the children to come to me.” At such trying times in his life, he needed their goodness and love as much as we need his grace and mercy.
Comment by SMT — July 17, 2009 @ 3:30 pm
Marie, thank you for speaking up about this. Thank you for sharing your pain. My condolenses are with you.
Comment by Christin — July 17, 2009 @ 3:57 pm
Oh, how I wish I didn’t relate to this post. My circumstances are different, but I recognize the feelings you’re expressing and know how much pain they cause. For what it’s worth, here are a few things I’ve learned over the years. If nothing else, you should know you’re definitely not alone.
First, it’s not bad to be angry. Allow yourself to grieve. Don’t put yourself on a timetable or feel forced to pretend even to yourself that everything’s okay. This sucks. I found it made me physically sick to pretend otherwise. For a while, I had to avoid well-meaning people who simply couldn’t understand why I didn’t wear rose-colored glasses all the time. Venting really does help.
Second, don’t let yourself stay angry forever. Pray. A lot. Develop real, lasting relationships. Find the things in life that make you feel joy. Having children isn’t the only thing out there. I’m afraid I was blind to so many wonderful opportunities because I couldn’t see beyond what I didn’t have.
Third, time. My faith has returned, slowly. It’s a different kind of faith. Instead of believing in a vending machine God, now I try every day to believe in a God who loves me. Not because of what he gives me, but because of how I feel when I pray.
Comment by Ahna — July 17, 2009 @ 3:59 pm
I went through years of infirtility treatments and I understand your heart ache. But honestly, what I had to do and it sounds like something you should do, is that with your blessing remember that those blessings are for this life and the next. You may have your family in the next life if you live worthily now. I truly believe this and it brings comfort. At this point, you need to find a way to accept His plan for you. It took 7 years of tears and heart ache for me to accept it. I have faith in His plan and I know that everything will work out.
Comment by Justme — July 17, 2009 @ 4:19 pm
I can definately see why you would have reason to grieve. We all have a right to grieve for lost dreams. I’m so sorry you are struggling so much right now.
As for being a mother, I thought it would be much different than it is. Not that I regret being a “mom” but it is a daily struggle sometimes, and sometimes I find that my kids “aunts” (in quotes because they are not technically family) sometimes have a much greater impact on my children than I do.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to impress something on my kids and they just brush it off, but if someone who is not their parent says the SAME THING it suddenly sinks in. The only reason I bring this up is because I think that sometimes we all forget the impact we can have on not just a child’s life, but on each others. I sure do appreciate anyone, married or not, parent or not, who is willing to give me or my children a boost when it’s needed.
I wish you peace with whatever Heavenly Father sends your way.
Comment by April — July 17, 2009 @ 4:33 pm
Marie ~ I’m not claiming to understand your situation or your pain, but I will say this. Growing up my mother wasn’t always there for me. She used to go to a neighbor’s house and drink a lot, and one night she came home, got mad at me over something stupid, and beat me up and down with a wooden spoon. I remember the marks on my face were so bad that they kept me home from school for a few days. My father threatened to divorce her over it. I was afraid of it happening again after that, and she did have a few other outbursts (though none as bad as that night).
My mother was a changed person by the time of her death last year, but that isn’t the point. The point is, growing up, I badly needed a mother, and God put other women in my life who were mother to me when my mother wasn’t being one. Since my mother died last year, other women have stepped up and tried to be mothers to me.
It’s not the same thing I know, but you could make such a difference in the life of someone who needs a mother. Think about it.
Comment by Bridget Jack Meyers — July 17, 2009 @ 4:59 pm
yes. I can understand why you are feeling that way. The woman’s body is designed to have children at a very young age (by today’s standards). Children that late are very high risk. Much greater chance of downs syndome and lots of other serious problems. You need to decide what is best for your children…
Comment by StillConfused — July 17, 2009 @ 5:13 pm
Marie,
What are you doing to try and get married? I am not saying that you are at “fault”, but many times we sit back and wait for Prince Charming to swoop in and knock us off our feet, while we should be taking a more proactive approach. I am sure that the blessings of the Lord will be fulfilled, just make sure you are doing all YOU can do to make it a reality.
Comment by CHP — July 17, 2009 @ 5:16 pm
#14 - Wow. That’s a heartless way to respond to someone’s deepest pain. Marie never shared about her dating woes, she shared about a desire for children that she doesn’t know will be fulfilled. Whether or not she has put herself out there or gotten her heart broken in the past is irrelevant.
Comment by Charis — July 17, 2009 @ 5:21 pm
I am not in your particular situation, but I understand grieving what could have been. Although I am a stepmother, and have since adopted two children, at times I still think of the smiling impish little girls with curly red hair, freckles, and brown eyes my husband and talked and dreamed of for years.
Remember the blind man Christ healed? When asked who was the sinner that caused him to be born blind, the man or his parents, Christ answered that none had sinned. The man was blind so that Christ could perform a miracle (paraphrased). I do not see trials as a result of sin. (Those would be consequences.) Trials on the other hand, exist to help us grow our faith. Faith is hard work. Trusting in the Lord is hard work. Trusting in the Lord’s timetable is even harder.
I have no advice, except to not let this grief overcome your life. Be involved in the lives of others. When you lose yourself, you find yourself. You may never know the impact you will have on the life of another.
Comment by JJ — July 17, 2009 @ 5:29 pm
I can’t presume to understand or even start to feel the inevitable emotions voiced in the OP but I think it is too early to start grieving. Biology is one thing, parenthood another. I realize that the first hoop, a husband, has yet to be jumped through, and that is critical, but as much fun as ‘having’ a child is, having children remains possible after ‘having’ them is not possible or advisable.
I’m 56 years old and I was adopted, lo a very long time ago. I only knew one set of parents, I’m sealed to them, and I couldn’t be more my parents’ child. I always felt special and wanted in a way very few children growing up could. One of the greatest things you can do is be a parent to all the parent-less throughout the world. Talk about conservation of resources. It is truly God’s work.
Keep the faith.
Comment by Jim Donaldson — July 17, 2009 @ 5:42 pm
Marie, I can so relate to your post. I’m a year behind you, but I’ve thought and felt everything you mentioned (in my own way, of course, since each person’s experience is unique). There are no easy answers and I think we have to grieve — and grieve more than once over the years. Like mourning the loss of a loved one, you don’t ever get to the point that you’re glad the person is gone, but healing is possible. It seems that our kind of mourning is often profoundly solitary, but it helps if you can find even one person who will share your grief without judging or attempting to “fix” it. My experience has been that the Savior does respect my sorrow at being childless and He has comforted me in deeply personal ways. Read Isaiah 54 - I realize that childlessness is a metaphor here, but I also think it indicates the Lord’s understanding for women who long for children.
As for the troubling questions of unfulfilled blessings . . . I have chosen (and it has been a difficult choice) to leave the questions unanswered. Although this may not be the route for everyone, for me it feels better to say “I simply don’t get it” than to a) pretend that I do, or b) assume that someone (God, the patriarch, or me) made a terrible mistake. Meanwhile, I am growing my faith in other ways and finding that gradually, I am becoming confident that the Lord does have a plan for me. It may not be “typical,” but it is meaningful and important and exciting. He does not intend for you or me to be bereft of joy — not now or in the hereafter. Lately, it’s almost become like a delightful secret between me and Heavenly Father — when other people question the validity of my life, I want to grin and say, “if only you had any idea what the Lord and I were up to!” It has taken years to come to this place of peace, but I am grateful to be here, although I recognize that I’m likely to have additional periods of turmoil down the road.
Thank you for sharing, Marie. It’s comforting to know that I’m not alone in this. For the sake of trying to empathize with your feelings, I’m sharing a poem I wrote the last time my heart was breaking at the likely reality that I will never have a child. I’m clearly not a poet, but for whatever it’s worth, here it is . . . (hopefully, the formatting will stay intact)
Lullabye
On cold nights when the wind howls
and the windows frost
and the moonlit sky sends icy chill,
I tiptoe gently to her crib
and hold her close while time stands still.
I sing to her a quiet song
of outstretched arms,
of dusty dreams.
My heart undone, a silent tear
dissolves into a steady stream.
I kiss her brow and lay her down.
My baby sleeps;
my peace for now restored.
Glancing back, I leave the room
and quietly I close the door.
Comment by Analisa — July 17, 2009 @ 5:59 pm
ick CHP wish it were that easy. im sure marie has had ample time to craft her expectations to a realistic proportion. in fact that’s the problem she’s dealing with.
marie, this will probably not help you any more than it helped me when i was grieving a family member a few years ago (im not equating the pain, because death of a family member has a lot more outlets of expression as you say, except that it was still grief). but i find that the more we hold onto things the more they can hurt us. that isn’t to say you shouldn’t grieve for your dreams, because you absolutely should. but if we can lift ourselves to a level where we can accept life whatever happens to us, good and bad (still find joy in good and grief in bad, but accept both) we are less likely to be permanently disabled by grief. someone already brought up abraham. sometimes we dont get what we want until we have accepted that we might not get it. it seems backwards, but i think it puts our minds in a higher realm, if that makes sense.
all my sympathy to you. you don’t have to give up your dreams completely. but best of luck in trying to accept that you may have to. i know you can do it.
Comment by nobodyputsbabyinacorner — July 17, 2009 @ 6:11 pm
I could be way off base here, but have you ever thought of adopting. A couple in their 50’s I know of adopted some kids that were born to a mother that had drug problems. These kids are doing fabulous. I was at the pool the other day and met a man who has adopted numerous special needs kids. They all seemed so happy. I know everyone is different. Good luck to you!
Comment by denver born — July 17, 2009 @ 6:12 pm
(delurking to reply)
You’re only 39.
The increased risk for women over forty is unfounded scare-mongering. The research clearly states (if you read the actual research) that women over forty of normal weight are at no more risk in pregnancy than women under forty… the risks is weight gain which is often associated with age (middle age spread).
I’m 41 and I’m giving myself until my 44th birthday to decide whether or not to drop a sprog.
If you really have given up on your dreams (I hope that you haven’t), then yes, grieve.
If you haven’t given up, then drop the grief - it’s doing you no favors. Dust yourself off and move onwards and upwards. Sorry if that sounds harsh but you don’t need to be so down on yourself!
Though I can understand why you might. I once dated a Mormon (I’m not a Mormon) and I could clearly see the pressures and expectation women in Mormonism face. I imagine that if you internalized these pressures, that that could feel very disempowering and marginalizing.
Be kinder to yourself and take some pride in having your own unique path in life.
Comment by barmy stoat — July 17, 2009 @ 7:32 pm
Thanks, everyone, for your comments and insights (well, except CHP’s–but I was expecting at least one comment like that, so no big deal). You have no idea how comforting it is to know that others can relate to what I’m saying. THANK YOU.
SMT (#7), I appreciate your words. I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about the advice to get more involved in my nephew & nieces’ lives (I have three who live nearby). That suggestion is often given, but sometimes spending time with them exacerbates what I’m feeling–especially since my 2 nieces often simply prefer mom. But you’re right though; I do need to nurture my relationships with them & other children. And Bridget Jack Myers’s comment (#12) reinforces that. Thanks, Bridget (Jack?), for sharing that poignant personal story.
Justme (#10), I know that having hope in the next life should help–but I haven’t gotten to that point yet. It feels like another way of saying, “Don’t worry; things will be great once you’re dead!” I know there’s so much more to it than that, and I need to work on having a more eternal perspective. But mortality seems like a really, really long time to me. And why would God specifically promise me something he promises everyone? What’s the point of even including it in a blessing at all? I clearly need to work through this still–hopefully the thought of eternal families will one day bring me comfort too.
Um, StillConfused (#13), I know the statistics about Down syndrome. That’s depressing, so thanks.
Denver born (#20), I know adoption is the answer for some single women. But it’s just not right for me.
Comment by Marie — July 17, 2009 @ 7:46 pm
This makes me laugh. I want to post it on my mirror.
Comment by Stephanie — July 17, 2009 @ 7:59 pm
Marie, thank you for sharing your story. I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t think I had really thought of the pain that someone in your situation goes through, but this is a very real grief that should be acknowledged. Thank you for opening my eyes.
And, do you have any thoughts on how or if the Church could help singles in your situation?
Comment by EmilyCC — July 17, 2009 @ 8:10 pm
Marie, your post broke my heart. I’m so sorry for this loss of hope and expectation you feel so keenly.
The struggle with your faith you are experiencing appears to be a function of expectations that are too high. A patriarchal blessing is not an infallible predictor of the future. You may find this previous blog discussion useful.
Comment by Kevin Barney — July 17, 2009 @ 8:57 pm
Marie, I’m turning 35 next month, and I’ve felt much of what you’re feeling. Ever since I was 25 and an “old maid” not quite graduated from BYU, there have been people around me who have assumed I’ll never marry and used that “things will be great once you’re dead” line on me (and you’ve phrased it exactly the way it has sounded to me for the last 10 years). Sorry, people who think it’s comforting: it’s not. It really isn’t.
I suppose that means I should have more faith, but I also think that the Lord wants us to have joy in this life, and the church so often defines joy in this life as a family, so of course single women who start to realize they’re never going to marry feel grief for that. After all, “No other success can compensate for failure in the home” and “The most important of the Lord’s work that you will ever do will be the work you do within the walls of your own home,” right? How can one not grieve?
So I really appreciate what Analisa says about how she feels she has a secret deal with the Lord, and who knows what the Lord has in store? I know that none of the really awesome things that have happened to and for me in the last 10 or 15 years of my life would ever have happened if I had married and become a stay-at-home mom, because I wouldn’t have had the flexibility and freedom to move across the country, and therefore I wouldn’t have met the people I’ve met. I’ve had a lot of great blessings through those people, and I hope that I’ve been able to bless others, as well.
So I try to focus on how the Lord has blessed me, even if the one thing I’ve ever asked for, family, has been denied all my life. I try to create a surrogate family among my friends, and I really do cherish being an aunt. More and more, as I struggle with my health, I realize how it’s sometimes been a blessing *not* to have kids at this time in my life, because I can’t even handle my own health problems at times. It sure gets tiring to be alone, though, so I also completely sympathize.
While I’m five years younger, I have little hope that my situation will be any different in five years, and it drives me crazy when people tell me anecdotes intended to make me not worry–”Oh, I knew so-and-so who got married at 32 (when I was 29) or 34 (when I was 32) or 37 (now, when I’m 34), etc etc so don’t give up hope!” I understand these are meant to be faith-promoting stories, but the truth is that it was true for that person, and isn’t necessarily true for me.
The stories are told by well-meaning, loving friends–and I appreciate the intent and spirit in which they’re given–but they also make me think, given how much of a miracle I think it is that anyone gets together, that if it happened for that person, it’s almost a guarantee it won’t happen for me. Everyone’s personal journey is so different, and it can be frustrating to hear, especially that old saw, “you’re not ready yet,” or the other tired one, “you’ll find someone when you stop looking”–as if it’s wrong to desire it.
People have found marriage when they were looking, and when they weren’t. People have had children when they were trying, and when they weren’t. I think it’s important to just acknowledge that the Lord has a plan for each of us, even if we don’t understand it fully (or at all, at times), and that while patriarchal blessings are a nice guide, they are also really confusing at times, especially when they promise things that don’t come to pass.
Comment by stacer — July 17, 2009 @ 9:20 pm
Kevin Barney, why is it that only single, childless women somehow have too-high expectations in our culture??
Comment by stacer — July 17, 2009 @ 9:20 pm
Tough stuff–thanks for articulating this.
I am not in your boat as I have been blessed with children but I have sisters who are; I believe them to have had the same desires for babies as I have had and yet every year that becomes more improbable. I feel for them, yet I don’t know how to communicate that to them. I also don’t know if it makes things better or worse for them to share my own kids with them.
I believe that people who love you are cognizant of your pain, but perhaps don’t know how or if you want them to share that pain with you.
Comment by ESO — July 17, 2009 @ 9:23 pm
stacer, that is not what I meant. Anyone who thinks a patriarchal blessing is a set in stone prediction fo the future is liable to be disappointed. This principle applies to anyone who gets a PB. That’s why I suggested a read of a blog thread on the fallibility of PBs.
Comment by Kevin Barney — July 17, 2009 @ 9:33 pm
Marie,
Please do not despair about marriage and having a family. You need to be selective with the man that you will marry. I believe that a woman needs to earn an education first, second, job, and then marriage. You need to find the man that has the same compatible values as you do! DO NOT SETTLE FOR SECOND BEST!! I dated a man with a son when I was in college and it did not work out!! Please try to find a man that has never been married or has had kids as well!! It well make life so much easier in the long run!! You must be actively seeking the dream man!! Just be patient!!!
Comment by Maggie — July 17, 2009 @ 10:01 pm
EmilyCC, I’m not sure what the Church should/could do to help, other than raising awareness somehow so that individual Church members are sensitive to the many people in my situation. That might help prevent some of the well-meaning but unintentionally hurtful comments I hear sometimes …. like the time a generally kind and wonderful man (a Church member) said to me during a job interview, “I know I’m not supposed to ask this, but you’re single, right? So you don’t have children at home who will be needing your attention when you’re at work?” Ouch. I wasn’t prepared for that one.
We single people often get scrutinized and criticized for what we’re doing “wrong” that prevents us from being married (see comment #14), when what we really need is just to be loved and accepted–just like anyone else.
Kevin Barney (#25), thanks for pointing me to that blog discussion. I’ve skimmed it and plan to review it more thoroughly. I’m trying to figure out what patriarchal blessings really mean–I know they’re not infallible. It’s just confusing when parts of my blessing seem clearly inspired and unique to my situation. And then the themes of children and family seem to be interwoven throughout the whole thing. I keep reminding myself that I shouldn’t have ultimate faith in a blessing; my ultimate faith should be placed in Christ. Still, I find blessings incredibly confusing.
Stacer (#26), I love practically everything you’ve said. But I will admit that I really like hearing stories about people who married at 40, 45, 50 … Those stories give me hope. But you’re so right; it is an absolute miracle when two people get together. I know it will take a miracle for me.
Comment by Marie — July 17, 2009 @ 10:06 pm
Maggie, I appreciate the advice, but I’m 39, so I got the education and job a long time ago. And at my age, focusing exclusively on never-married men isn’t realistic.
Comment by Marie — July 17, 2009 @ 10:11 pm
Marie, the question that man asked in a job interview about your singleness and childlessness was illegal.
Comment by stacer — July 17, 2009 @ 10:17 pm
(Also, those stories give me hope, too–and I *hate* that they do. Because sometimes I worry that it’s false hope, you know? I want to have hope in things that are unseen, but true, and when my hope is disappointed yet again, I stumble. And I hate that about myself, because I *do* hope, and continue to hope, and continue to be disappointed.)
Comment by stacer — July 17, 2009 @ 10:19 pm
Oh Marie, I feel so bonded to you in your grief. I went through eight years of infertility before getting my son who has cerebral palsy, and if there is one thing I’ve learned it’s that none of us end up walking the path we thought was promised to us. Grief is part of the earthly experience, and truly, deeply, understanding that helped me to not take my trials so personally. Well, most days anyway. Some days I still feel cosmically picked on.
I’ve had to develop a million different strategies to make it here, and I think the hardest part is finding a way to let hope live side by side with realism. Sometimes I’m good at this, sometimes I’m not, but I feel like my faith has become so much more complex and profound in the process. Sometimes I’ve had to give up hope until I felt resilient enough to pick it back up.
One thing that really helped me was going to the temple. I avoided the actual endowments like a hot stove (raw nerves and “multiply and replenish” do not mix well) but I took every opportunity to do sealings. I told myself that if I couldn’t do anything to get my eternal family to get here, then I would spend my time uniting other eternal families. While I’m normally skeptical to a fault about this kind of thing, I swear those families ministered to my wounded spirit.
I also agree wholeheartedly with Jack. I’m another one who relied on substitute mothers and I never would have made it to adulthood without their influences. And that’s why I’ve served in YW for the past ten years. Karma.
I wish you strength and peace.
Comment by reese — July 17, 2009 @ 10:23 pm
While I have a child and I feel blessed that I do..I do want more children, and I sometimes feel like you Marie..when will it happen? what am I not doing? why aren’t I being blessed? I myself am single,and I applaud you for understanding that you do not wish to be a single parent..(most of us don’t lol) Do not allow anyone to diminish your grief-you are allowed to feel the way you do..and it is to be expected.Sorry I’ve strayed slightly from my intended point..I remember that Abraham and Sarah weren’t blessed with children until Sarah was very old..sometimes it takes awhile
.Whatever Heavenly Fathers plan for you is unknown to us mere mortals..and after awhile of everyone saying have faith it will happen when it’s time..(it gets a little tiring for me also) but it’s true find things that interest you and do them,your guy just might find you..
your not too old to have children.I know many first time parents who are in their 40’s and 50’s respectfully.
Be patient and kind with yourself..
Comment by Jillian — July 17, 2009 @ 10:26 pm
I can’t imagine how it must be for you in such a family-centric church. I hope things work out in a pleasing way for you.
Comment by Kim Siever — July 17, 2009 @ 10:29 pm
This is very profound.
Comment by Stephanie — July 17, 2009 @ 10:45 pm
Turning 36 next Friday, so this has been on my mind quite a bit lately…I’ve written this post in my journals I don’t know how many times.
I’ve taken to telling myself that I never wanted kids in the first place; that I really am not “mother material,” that the mistakes I made in my youth have completely nullified the promises of my patriarchal blessing.
I wish I had an answer, or even advice, but I don’t. At least twice a year I convince myself to just slowly drop out of church, because clearly I’m doing something wrong, so why bother? I keep going, but still, the doubt is there.
Please know that you are not alone in this, and while you, me, and several of my friends are silently suffering and mourning (not every day, not every hour, mind you), perhaps just that knowledge that you are not alone can be a tiny piece of comfort.
Comment by Jules — July 17, 2009 @ 10:46 pm
Ah, but you still get people telling you to get over it, so you aren’t missing the entire experience.
Not to mention, I’m sure lots of people are probably telling you that it is your fault as well. So you are getting the heart of the death experience.
Not to mention, you have hit what Wm Morris notes — lots of people think that everyone understands your pain — and they minimize it thereby (which you were not doing).
All said, I know that none of that is comforting and all I really mean to to is acknowledge that your pain is deeper and harder than most of us appreciate. All I can really say is what Jules says …
Comment by Stephen M (Ethesis) — July 17, 2009 @ 11:17 pm
Marie, I’m not sure how you were able to enter my brain and heart and write of my own experience, but rest assured you have. You are not alone in your experiences. As someone who only ever wanted to marry and have children, to find myself at age 40 looking to the cold and alone future I never wanted, I can really offer no comfort. I find this trial compounded by losing my job 2 months before my birthday. So, while having to look for a job to support myself when the only job I ever wanted was as a mother, my spirits have been tried. The only thing close to comfort I can offer you is the knowledge that there are others like us out there. I have found some comfort from your post, so thank you for sharing it.
As for CHP… I wonder what it is you expect from people like us? I’ve carried around the duct tape, rope, and gun in my trunk just waiting for the right opportunity to hogtie a man and drag him to the temple, but time after time they seem to wiggle out of it. Perhaps I should take some knot-tying lessons? Do you have any other brilliant suggestions to make? It sounds like you are an expert, so I anxiously await your reply.
Comment by Alissa — July 17, 2009 @ 11:26 pm
You did NOT screw up.
I have no answers, and won’t even pretend to understand what you are going through, but I know that you did NOT screw up.
I’m so grateful for the single sisters I’ve known over the years–for their help and love and support and time they’ve given me. Please know there is a place for you in the Church. Your grief is real; I know that there are other women who feel it too. We read and write to know we aren’t alone. I hope you know how loved you are.
Comment by Nan — July 17, 2009 @ 11:32 pm
Ahhhh, you guys are making me cry (in a good way). Thank you SO MUCH for your comments.
Comment by Marie — July 17, 2009 @ 11:36 pm
I had my children at 20 & 23. They are now 21 and 19. As a 41 year old, there is no way I could handle little kids now. I need my sleep. Choosing to have children young or old is a personal decision. I had mine young and wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Comment by StillConfused — July 17, 2009 @ 11:41 pm
StillConfused, I’m confused as to what that has to do with someone who *didn’t have that choice*.
Comment by stacer — July 17, 2009 @ 11:43 pm
Marie, for what it’s worth, some comments from the late Carlfred Broderick:
http://www.schoolofabraham.com/struggle.htm
Comment by Mike H. — July 17, 2009 @ 11:46 pm
StillConfused… yes, you must be confused with this discussion. I, too, would have chosen to have my children in my 20s.
yay for you.
Comment by Alissa — July 17, 2009 @ 11:47 pm
I’ve never read this blog before but an LDS friend of mine thought I should share my insight.
It took a long time for me to let go of this dream myself - being in my 40s and husbandless/childless in the church is really heartbreaking. What makes my situation even harder is that I was married at 20 for 2 years to an LDS man who physically abused me, and I divorced him. He has gone on to have a completely messed up life (including hard drug use and jail time), but sometimes I wish I had stayed married to him, or had a child with him, just so I could have *something.* On my better days I recognize that I made the right decision, even though it has left me without a spouse and children in a family church.
The advice I give you is to pursue whatever other dreams you have in life that have NOTHING to do with your dreams of having a child or husband. For me, I thought that my other major dream was to be the awesomest school teacher around. It took me ten years to realize that this dream was painfully tied to my dream of having children; I was using teaching as a substitute for my desire to be a full-time mother, and it didn’t measure up. Instead it brought me heartache with every parent conference, with the end of every school year, and with watching these children grow with minimal influence from me. I can say I positively influenced thousands of lives, but it just wasn’t the same as being the mother I always wanted to be. It was a poor substitute and once I realized it, I got a job as far removed from children as I could. Though I love children, it was the best decision of my life.
Since then I have had to reassess my dreams and focus on the ones that have nothing to do with children or my desire to parent. This has helped me develop my other non-maternal talents and realize my worth as a daughter of God for reasons other than reasons tied to motherhood and family. It has also helped me develop some strong friendships from women in similar positions.
I force myself to relish the things I can do that “tied-down” mothers can’t; I travel for business and pleasure and enjoy exploring other countries and cultures, I stay up late and sleep in on Saturdays, I go to rock concerts with my younger friends, I take off work for weeks at a time and volunteer for Habitat for Humanity whenever I feel like it. The more I enjoy these freedoms, the more I am grateful for the life I have, even though it’s not what I thought it would be.
The pain is still there sometimes, and I would still drop everything to fall in love and marry a loving man and be a parent (I would love to adopt!), but in the meantime I am trying to fulfill the other dreams I have and push the mothering dreams as far back as I can.
Comment by Opie — July 18, 2009 @ 1:12 am
I remember feeling exactly as you felt. I was 6 months from 30 when I got married and then dealt with infertility for several years. It is heartbreaking to wonder if you are going to realize those blessings promised in a PB. I don’t know that anything will really take the pain away, but I wanted to share my experience and let you know that in my life the blessings finally arrived. My husband and I adopted one child and then gave birth to 2 more.
The one thing I have learned about parenting vs. being single, though, is that parenting take a LOT more time and effort than I ever really thought possible. It’s not just time for myself that I crave - though that was a tough adjustment at first - but it’s the time to do things for others that I don’t have the time to do. I am so busy parenting, that I have to pass up a great many opportunities for charitable work, friendships and church service that I used to do regularly.
We need people who are available to do that kind of work, I think more so today. You probably have a very important work to do that you couldn’t accomplish with a family. I’m not glad for your pain, but I’m glad that there are people like you out there, doing work that I can’t right now.
Comment by Lori Pierce — July 18, 2009 @ 1:12 am
A few thoughts . . .
I look at my life (SAHM with 5 kids), and my sisters’ & sister-in-law’s lives (single career women), all of us closer to 40 than 35, and how we got here has little to do with mistakes, some to do with choices, and most to do just with what came our way.
I hope you can find a shoulder to cry on or an ear in which to vent. While I cannot understand completely my sisters’ feelings, I can listen. I hope they know that when their hearts are hurting, mine is too. I hope you find a sister and/or friend to talk to. Listening also is a good reminder to me to encourage my children to have relationships with their aunties. I can’t tell you how much it has brought to our lives.
And one family story: My grandmother recently died, and spent her last years needing much care. Last night we were talking just in our dad-mom-kids family about that, and being taken care of when we are old. My kids were dividing everyone up. “I get this aunt!” “Well, I don’t care, because I hope I live near this aunt, so I’ll take care of her!” Made me feel great until I realized no one was clamoring to take care of me! The aunts are the favorites.
All this to say there is a lot of love out there, and from your post you sound like a woman who has a lot to give, so a lot comes your way. Whether you have your own children or not, I hope your cup runs over with it.
Comment by TXgirl — July 18, 2009 @ 6:29 am
I’ve really enjoyed the empathetic comments to this thread. I just wanted to echo TXgirl, that the situation Marie and some commenters find themselves in has nothing to do with mistakes or having done something “wrong,” so I hope you can learn not to beat yourself up over something that isn’t your fault and avoid descending into destructive self-recrimination.
Comment by Kevin Barney — July 18, 2009 @ 8:07 am
Don’t have time to read all comments, but couldn’t not stop by to say thank you for sharing. As someone who had several years of infertility woes, I can start to - but not fully - imagine the pain of your situation, particularly in a family centric church/culture.
I know you say no adoption, but keep your heart open. I have a dear single friend who said that for years as she watched her 30’s slip away. Then, in her early 40s, her life solidified in such a way that she felt she could do it. Within 5 months, she had a sweet 6 day old girl. The bishop was extremely supportive and the ward has rallied behind her (it helps that several families have relied upon adoption due to infertility and late marriage). Sure, single parenting has been tough and exhausting at times for my friend, but she is finding that it is doable. Today the girl is nearing her 3rd birthday and mother and child are doing great!
Comment by Nicole — July 18, 2009 @ 8:34 am
Two words: sperm bank.
Many women go this route these days because they don’t want to have to deal with life-long commitments with some loser guy in order to have a family.
Don’t let your interpretation of church stuff or doctrine written by men to get in the way of your happiness.
Comment by newbie — July 18, 2009 @ 10:19 am
Marie, thanks for sharing and expressing your grief. I can only understand a little of it, but I was 36 when I had my first baby, 38 for my second, and even now in my 40s I still think about having another. It can be done. Remember that people are having children later and later now, and I would never give up hope. Hope is a very powerful thing!
Also, I was raised by a single mom, and couldn’t imagine it any other way. I know it’s not exactly condoned by the church, but I’m glad I had my mom all to myself. And she has told me that my coming along completely changed her life too (for the better one would hope!)
Comment by meems — July 18, 2009 @ 10:36 am
Marie, I can’t add anything to the above comments except that I hope you will someday find peace. This was a beautiful, thoughtful post.
Comment by Numi — July 18, 2009 @ 1:59 pm
Re #30: Maggie, are you kidding??? I was once divorced with two children. Second best? I think not. My “dream man” came complete with children and grandchildren. Just more for me to love. Also, he is a much better father and grandfather than the bio father. I’m sorry you had a bad experience but please don’t paint with such broad brush. Second best…. sigh…
Comment by Numi — July 18, 2009 @ 2:10 pm
#30, I just have to echo Numi’s comments, what a odd way to sum up the situation. Marie, you should never settle for something less than what you want but, really already having been married before does not make one garbage in the future. Choosing a wonderful spouse has to do with a lot more than if they already have kids. Look for things liked kindness, shared interest, your views on life and the bigger picture.
That being said, Marie my heart pains for you. I hope you find peace and happiness in your life. Find people who are willing to listen to your pain. Talk about it. It is OK to feel this pain, it is so very real. Give your heart a voice. Don’t minimize it, it is OK to grieve something that is lost. Know that your life is a gift and you have so much to offer the world, and yourself. Fill your life with things that make you happy. I wish you the best. With Love
Comment by kandi and salt — July 18, 2009 @ 2:53 pm
Thank you for sharing such tender thoughts in your experience. My heart goes out to you as you mourn
Comment by Sarah in Georgia — July 18, 2009 @ 4:03 pm
I am single in my 30’s. I am very inactive with the church, and regret joining the church. I stopped trying to find that returned missionary. I got tired of being told I wasn’t praying enough, not faithful enough, ect… Life is much better dating nonmembers, and now I might actually have children some day.
Comment by Liz — July 18, 2009 @ 5:58 pm
Marie, my heart is breaking for you in reading this post. I don’t fully understand what it’s like to be experiencing what you are, but I know what it’s like to want a child so badly that your soul cries out in anguish for it. How any interaction with children or pregnant women is too painful to bear. How you don’t want to hear that your sister-in-law is pregnant again or the women at church complaining about their fertility.
I had two children and then more miscarriages than any woman should have to have.
People told me to be happy with what I had, to be grateful that I had my two boys. Which I was, but I had felt this little spirit and knew that she was supposed to be part of my family.
It took five years and an incredible amount of scientific intervention, but she finally arrived. To be shortly joined by a brother who came all on his own, and which the Lord told me was a blessing for me because of my desires.
And I was not patient and serene in my waiting. I wish I could have been. I didn’t have the faith I probably should have had. And it pissed me off when people presumed to tell me how I should be feeling or what I should be doing. I was coping the best way that I could.
You know yourself best. You know what you’re capable of. And maybe being a single mother doesn’t feel like the right choice now. Maybe it will later.
They keep making medical advances every year when it comes to fertility - things are possible now that even 20 years ago would seem like science fiction. Hope is not lost!
There’s a couple in our ward who met when they were 42 and had two children immediately (she’s 45 now).
And if doesn’t happen the way that you need it to, I hope that you can find peace and know that you are not alone and that you have sisters surrounding you who will share your pain and your burdens with you.
Comment by Sariah — July 18, 2009 @ 6:30 pm
I am wondering why I didn’t write this post a long time ago–I have so appreciated the kind comments, and you all have helped lift my burden. I will be referring back to this often when I have my down days. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
For those of you who have suggested that I consider single parenthood, I do appreciate the advice, and I know that in some cases it turns out to be a positive situation. There are many great single parents out there. But, that just isn’t the right choice for me. I know that many children who are raised by single moms turn out wonderfully. But I also believe fathers are extremely important, and I wouldn’t want to make a choice to have a child who wouldn’t have a dad from the get-go. Also, if I had a child, he/she wouldn’t be sealed to anyone. (I really hope I’m not offending anyone by saying those things….. I know that many single moms don’t HAVE a choice.)
Regarding adoption, I know that there are children who need to be adopted and otherwise would have no parents at all. I admire the single women and men who adopt these kids and give them a better life. But I don’t feel that’s the path I should take at this point.
Kandi (#57), you are so right. It’s unfortunate that Maggie had a bad experience. I’ve met many wonderful men through the years who have been divorced or widowed at some point, and I would never consider them “second best.”
Liz, I am sorry you regret joining the Church and that the message you received is that you weren’t “enough.” I wonder about being “enough” myself, but I’m not sure, in my case anyway, that that message comes from the Church…. My own feelings about the Church seem somewhat paradoxical at times. Sometimes I feel it is a source of pain because I don’t fit into the “plan,” and because the very thing I lack is emphasized so much. On the other hand, I’m convinced the LDS understanding of the importance of family is based on true principles–which is part of the very reason it can be so painful. When I focus on the basic doctrines of the gospel, such as the Atonement, and when I am actively nurturing my relationship with Christ and seeking Him, I do find comfort I can find nowhere else. That comfort may seem elusive–but when it does come, nothing else surpasses it. It’s just so easy for me to forget this at times!
Comment by Marie — July 18, 2009 @ 6:32 pm
I know this is a little off topic but I’ll share it anyways
My absolute FAVORITE Relief Society President was a single sister in her late 40’s. I was always amazed at her intuision when it came to anyone (no matter the situation) and how much more able to help she seamed to be. Maybe this was because she was single that she was able to find the time for (seamingly) every other sister in the ward, be it to make a meal or to jump in and be a surragate mother for children with a mom that was having major emotional issues. I don’t know of anyone that didn’t adore her.
Comment by April — July 18, 2009 @ 6:44 pm
Thank you for your post. I just turned 36 and these same thoughts have been on my mind as well. I think it is okay to mourn for the life you haven’t experienced (up to this point), but don’t let it consume you. One of my favorite scriptures about waiting on the Lord’s timing has to be Psalms: 130:5.
Good luck in your journey and know you aren’t alone.
Comment by Melinda — July 18, 2009 @ 9:38 pm
#62 I doubt it was because she’s single. Single people have no more time than married people–they just happen to be busy with other things, like cleaning their own houses after a full day of full-time work, doing their own shopping and laundry and trying to have a bit of a social life. If she did those things, it was because she made time for them.
Comment by stacer — July 18, 2009 @ 10:51 pm
I think it is difficult for any woman who cannot bear children during this time on Earth whether the Patriarchal Blessing promises it or not. As women in the church we are taught motherhood is not only our role in life but being mother is our identity. We hear this over and over again from church leaders. Changing one’s dream in life is extremely hard, my suggestion is to take a nice long vacation with a close friend.
Comment by shannon — July 19, 2009 @ 12:18 am
Marie: I’m sorry if my earlier post didn’t help much.
I also ache for you, and those in your situation. I’ve cringed when others in the Church have said just get out there & get married, it’s not a button you push. I’ve also seen way too many make bad decisions about who they married. Often, they do have children, but then divorce.
Unless you’ve severely sinned, I doubt your Patriarchal Blessing is void. I know of several members, male & female, who have PB’s talking about children, but they were killed before getting married.
Yes, I know what it’s like to feel not a part of the “plan” at Church. I have 2 high functioning autistic sons, and I struggle with shades of autism, depression, and sleep apnea.
Being a single parent is really difficult, so I can support your decision not to do that.
Comment by Mike H. — July 19, 2009 @ 2:37 am
Marie: I felt something like you at age 40. While in the gentile world I was still of marriageable age, though a bit late since the ideal marriage age in my source culture was thought to be 30. Old enough to get out of grad school and spend a few years building a successful career first. Ideal age to have first baby: 33 to 35. When I joined the church I became suddenly the age of a grandmother, with virtually no marriage prospects. I think most LDS don’t realize the full extent to which their custom of marrying in undergrad school and starting to have babies right away diverges from the gentile norm. I kept seeing these young girls with babies on their hips at church, and thinking they were babysitting, but it turned out they were the baby’s mother.
At age 40 I didn’t want to be a single mom because I knew I needed help to raise a child, and I didn’t want to adopt a new baby and then put it in daycare a month later when I went back to work. I had thought about the sperm bank and the same considerations applied, plus I really would have wanted to choose the father as someone I knew and loved, and I couldn’t see that working out well either. I kept thinking how much girls in particular need to be doted on by their dads. While that could always happen by accident, that my daughter grew up without a dad, and we would make the best of it, still I couldn’t see setting out to do it to her on purpose.
As it turned out, I adopted a teenager. We chose each other and suit each other perfectly. Everything came together out of the blue, and I absolutely love being a mother. It’s been a struggle at times, in many surprising ways. I always thought, rather immodestly, that I would be an excellent mother. Now, though, I have sympathy for my poor son that he is stuck with me for a mom. He seems to think he got a really good deal, but I know it’s me who’s the lucky one.
Anyway, this is just to say that we don’t see all ends. I could never have predicted this outcome in the wildest of speculation at age 40. I thought of all my poor unborn children that I never had, and I wept for them, and ached to hold them. I have to say now, though, that I’m just as happy as I can be. My son is the most wonderful beloved amazing creature on earth. No possible outcome could have been better for me than this. So there’s no telling what’s in store for you up the road either. May you be blessed to full measure and overflowing the way I have been!
Comment by Tatiana — July 19, 2009 @ 7:57 am
#64 either way I adore her. And I think that her schedule was definately more flexable than mine was/is. Be that because she was single or not, I don’t know. I just know that many singles feel excluded and sometimes overlooked when it comes to calling like RS president etc. I wasn’t trying to offend or stereotype in any way, just to share someone who impacted/impacts mine and my children’s lives. Honestly, if something were to happen to my husband and I, I would …without hesitation… will my children to someone like her. She has enough love, stability, and ability to properly care for them.
That’s another way life could switch things up for the OP as well, you just never know what life will throw at you and you adjust the best you can.
Comment by April — July 19, 2009 @ 11:35 am
#67 My Aunt did similar to you and is VERY happy with her son as well. Who knew my cousin was just out there waiting to have his life cross paths with my aunt?
Comment by April — July 19, 2009 @ 11:39 am
April, it’s a marvelous thing.
Comment by Tatiana — July 19, 2009 @ 11:50 am
Marie,
I love you and hope you are able to mourn and find peace in your life. There is no quick fix for a broken heart - regardless of why the heart is breaking. But know you are loved, appreciated, envied and desired by countless people for any number of reasons that you have likely already acknowledged.
Like you, I may not have the opportunity to have earthly children in this life. But I have often been directed in blessings to prepare… not that I am prepared for anything, but I have occassionally indulged in reading books on child rearing, parenting and other subjects and foudn them to be wonderful in helping me to communicate and work with adults, children and everything in between. Just because you aren’t a mom today doesn’t mean you can’t prepare to be a parent - in truth, because of your age, you are likely a better parent than numerous under 25 year old mothers (not that it is a competition, but with every day comes wisdom). So- perhaps you re-direct some of your anxiety in preparing to be a parent.
It isn’t a pain-free fix, but it can take away a little of the sting. There is nothing wrong with being the favorite aunt/neighbor/sunday school teacher/babysitter because you are amazingly versed in proactive parenting literature.
You are in my heart.
Comment by spunky — July 19, 2009 @ 10:27 pm
Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe the man that you were supposed to marry made some mistakes and so it changed your future. Not that that helps, but often times we hold on to all of the blame. You can’t know all of the reasons you have ended up where you are. None of us can know that… but I’m pretty sure you didn’t do anything to deserve where you are.
We all have our own scarlet letter to bare, sure would be nice if we could just be more gentle with each other, and with ourselves.
I hope you will find your comfort and peace in this situation.
Comment by Sunshine — July 20, 2009 @ 12:07 pm
My first thoughts when I read your story was of a scripture right before Jesus visits the Nephites. Jesus says over and over how oft would I have gathered you as a chicken gathers her hens…I’m not saying you are chicken;) What I’m saying is that in a moment of deep feeling of emotions Jesus identified himself with a mothering figure who wasn’t able to mother. Jesus’ greatest desire is to give life to others and he is frequently refused the opportunity. He already suffered so he could give life and all that he is and has to others.
Jesus understands. I think that’s what I’m saying.
I also hope that you can continue to use this pain to feel united with others. Satan wants us to feel apart. It is easy to see how you could feel different in our culture…especially with the pain you feel. I hope reading the wonderful comments (idiot excepted) you will feel united with others. Everyone has in some way had a desire unfulfilled, dreams shattered, a desire to give life denied, relationships nonexistant.
True it may not have happened the few weeks before we were 39 in such a such a place for such and such a reason. But all of us have felt pain. That can bring us together as we seek to comfort each other.
Thank you for sharing your feelings, it really helps me remember other people and all the unique ways we can be tested.
Comment by brittl — July 20, 2009 @ 2:35 pm
There have been some great comments here. I just wanted to add my own experience, in case it helps…
I’m 32, also unmarried, and my PB talks about my body being a vessel for the many children I will bear. Ok. Without sex and marriage that is not going to happen.
I have housed two different teen/single moms and said often times, single parenting is hard. I would never ever choose something like that. I’m also a firm believer in the need to have both parents.
However, after I spent some time caring for my nephew, I couldn’t put those mom-feelings away. Now, I do foster care. It’s not the same, but it is. I get up in the middle of the night, do back to school shopping and get the hugs and kisses. I get called mom and am a mom in my heart. Right now I have three children. Two live with me, one now lives with his grandma. Having them has reinforced my feelings that a dad is needed as both boys I’ve had really really needed that male positive role model. At the same time, I love them and treat them the same as I would treat any kids born to me. That mom type loves comes at the strangest moments.
Will I adopt? I don’t know. With my current kiddos that might be an option in a few months. I don’t know what I’m going to do.
All I know is that right now I am a mom and that mom-void is being filled. Maybe not in the ideal way, and maybe not forever, but in the meantime I’m making a difference for these kids that can’t be with their parents.
However, one of the downsides is that you want to be a mom so bad and its hard to see these people who have been blessed with the opportunity, screw it up over and over and over again. Seeing past that and focusing on the kid’s immediate needs takes some work.
Anyway, I understand what you are going through. I don’t know if it will ever happen. I had no desire to be married when I was in my early 20’s and ran away from any potential opportunity. Now I wonder if I should have focused on getting married instead of education and career. Oh well, those were my choices.
Anyway, my advice is to grieve your lost dream and much as you feel you need to. It is a loss as real as any other. Then, when you’re done, come up with a new dream and a new plan for that to happen. Good luck.
Comment by Heidi — July 20, 2009 @ 4:45 pm
Thank you spunky, April, Melinda, and everyone else for your sweet comments.
Mike H.–exactly. I think many people assume that because it was easy for them, it should be easy for everyone unless they mess up. Thanks also for the link to the Carlfred Broderick article. While it doesn’t seem to exactly apply to my situation, it’s a good reminder that sometimes there may be profound reasons many of us travel along paths we wouldn’t have chosen.
Thanks for sharing your story, Tatiana. Even if my path ends up being very different from yours, I love to hear from people who have been in similar situations and felt like me, and yet have an outcome that makes them truly happy. That gives me hope.
Sunshine, I’ve heard others suggest similar things about the people we singles were “supposed” to marry, but I’m not sure I believe that could be the case. God would have already known about those things at the time my PB and other priesthood blessings were given. I know other blogs have discussed this issue at length, so I won’t go into it more than that…. But I do appreciate your thoughts about not taking all of the blame. Ohh, I struggle with that–it’s either all my fault or all God’s fault, right?
I know it’s not that simplistic. I need to work all that out. Thanks for the reminder.
You are right, brittl–it’s easy to me to forget that MANY people don’t fit the ideal, and that most people have to deal with loss at some point…. This thread has reminded me that at some level we’re all more alike than we are different, and that our difficulties can help unite us…. I was feeling very raw and emotional and cringing a little when I submitted this post–I didn’t know if people would think it was worth responding to. But many of the responses have been just what I needed and have helped bring some of the comfort that I have craved.
Comment by Marie — July 20, 2009 @ 5:26 pm
Thanks for sharing your story and your advice, Heidi. It sounds like those kids are INCREDIBLY lucky to have you in their lives.
Comment by Marie — July 20, 2009 @ 5:36 pm
My aunt married my uncle at 39 and still had three wonderful children. We are more healthy than earlier, nutritionally-challenged generations. Don’t give up hope!
Comment by rlpmjp — July 20, 2009 @ 7:24 pm
This is how I feel now. Yeah, 32 is young-ish still….but as the years keep passing by, it gets a little harder each day. How sometimes at church it seems like they say if you just “wanted to get married” (yeah, I must not be married because I don’t want to)…it somehow magically will happen. How I’m supposed to not give up or really worry because so and so got married at “fill in the appropriate older-sounding age”. I agree again with a lot of what you’ve said too, Stacer.
As much as I love and adore kids…it’s hard to not feel a bit wistful and feel sorrow inside that I don’t have any of my own when I’m around them. As much as I am happy they have their families, going to a family ward just makes me sad to see all the people who have what I want.
I’ve somewhat considered adoption here and there, but for me I’d rather wait until the kids could have a father too, and I don’t know that I could go it alone either.
I know we all have our own struggles. I’m no better or worse off necessarily than someone else. But this is my sorrow, this is my trial….trying to find happiness with a career I never wanted. Trying to find new dreams I can accept when the ones promised in my PB and the desires of my soul just aren’t coming.
I wish you luck, Marie, in trying to find dreams you can have, while longing for the dreams you really want and I hope come someday.
Comment by Miss Marie — July 20, 2009 @ 9:50 pm
I had my first child 38, I was five months from 39. I then went through four miscarriages desparately trying to have my second child. It was extremely painful. After a humiliating experience of jumping through many hoops, I was able to adopt my second child at the age of forty four ( three months from turning fourty five). I do feel your pain. Your story made me cry. But there is hope. Anything could happen. I have a friend who married at forty, and had three daughters her last at the age of forty six. And you can adopt. It is heavenly. As the mother of a bio and adopted child, there is no difference! And you probably are a mother to many people in your life already. After having kids, I realized I was mothering all my life. The world needs you, keep the faith.
Comment by Miz Liz — July 20, 2009 @ 11:24 pm
SLAP!
This is easier for me to do from cyberspace than it would be for one of your friends or relatives to do face to face. Girl, if you want to be a mother, then become a mother! You hold the cards. Don’t sit by and pray, while life passes you by. I think being a mother is the greatest joy this life has to offer. For me, this fulfillment and joy far surpasses the joy of having a partner, or any other joy. I decided long ago that I would become a mother, whether or not I married. Don’t let men hold your key to happiness. (So many stupid jerks who want skinny models with big boobs, whether or not they have personality or brains. Damn them.)
Sperm bank, adoption, foster care, etc. So many kids in the foster care system — school age kids who don’t need much daycare if you work fulltime. Get a network of family and/or friends to help.
I know, I know….Easier said than done. But I think you should consider single parenthood. I say GO FOR IT!
Comment by Andrea — July 21, 2009 @ 6:50 pm
Marie,
I had my tubes tied at about the age you are now. I was sure that I didn’t want children. Found out afterwards that my husband did so I tried to have it reversed. It didn’t work and I put those dreams away.
I’m 58 and my husband died last year, after 37 years of marriage. I met a man in the ICU waiting room. His wife of 21 years died the day before my husband. We stayed in touch and talked each other through our grief. God has this strange way of working things out and we became involved. I moved in with him this year. He has a 20 year old son and a 1 year old grandson. They live with us and the mother of the boy. I never, ever would have expected to have children of any sort in my life and yet here I am. It has been a true blessing and I am enjoying all the young people that wander in and out of the house. Don’t give up your dream. If God means for this to be, you can bet that somehow, some way, that family is going to come into your life.
Comment by Teri Pittman — July 21, 2009 @ 7:07 pm
Dearest Marie,
Your words have moved me to try and give you other insight. I sincerely doubt that you have done anything wrong to bring this distress upon yourself. Unfortunately, some of us are destined to live lives that just don’t fit the neat little cookie cutter lives we see the majority live.
I remember how disturbing it was to be 39 and not just because I had a world class ugly divorce broke off in my back that year. From the perspective of someone older, you are still kind of a sweet young thing at 39 and might still find the marriage, (step)childen and whatever else you righteously desire in this life.
Marriage and children? Be careful what you ask for, because you might get it. From my experience, I have found parenting and especially marriage, in this world, to be highly over rated. My first child died of SIDS. With the benefit of 30 years of hindsight, I have found this to be the most rewarding and beneficial of my parenting experience, as a result of all I have learned from prayer and pondering this whole situation. He’s my only child I don’t have to worry about.
My subsequent children were swallowed up by the hateful brainwashing of Parental Alienation Syndrome, that too often follows divorce. Believe me when I say that there are worse things than the death of ones child!
You have been given excellent advice from others here that there are many other children in this world that would benefit from the love that you have to give. I shed a tear every time I see Oprah with her girls school in South Afica. There is no shortage of children that need all the extra love and attention that they can get. Were we to engage in this 24/7, we would still be only a drop in the ocean, compared to the need that exists. Foster parenting, volunteering in schools, Primary, adoption of older kids and numerous other opportunities surround us. Discovering and living this principle for myself, by trying to be a loving and positive influence on other children, has been the main thing that has assauged my immense grief and prevented me from just giving up and killing myself. (I am 100% anti-suicide)
“Don’t worry; things will be great once you’re dead!” ROFLMAO! One of the things I learned from my son’s ‘death’, is that there really is no such thing. There will come a time when we transition from this world to the next and things really are better there. But that is the subject matter of an entirely different blog.
Comment by Rick in Nashville — July 21, 2009 @ 9:57 pm
“I had my children at 20 & 23. They are now 21 and 19. As a 41 year old, there is no way I could handle little kids now. I need my sleep. Choosing to have children young or old is a personal decision. I had mine young and wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
StillConfused– If your life is so perfect, why then, pray tell, are you “still confused?” Furthermore, the sentiment you express here shows very little flexibility on your behalf, which is pitiable.
If you’d like to sit back and continue to congratulate yourself on your current situation, I’d suggest you do so on your own personal blog rather than in this forum.
Comment by Tess — July 22, 2009 @ 5:06 pm
Tess, that attack was not necessary. You are not playing nice.
Comment by Numi — July 22, 2009 @ 7:56 pm
Numi,
You’re right. I apologize (to you and the other readers but mostly to StillConfused). Next time I read something that produces this reaction in me, I’ll wait 10 minutes before crafting a response so that a more useful discussion might come of it. You’re right–my comment was an attack and that’s not helpful at all. Again, my sincere apologies.
Comment by Tess — July 23, 2009 @ 8:44 am
Marie: Maybe what I will say has already been said but at your age, you shouldn’t give up on being a mom if that’s really what you want. And while having a good dad is optimal, not everything should hinge on whether or not you find a husband.
I couldn’t get pregnant and after years of infertility my husband I adopted a child from Russia. He was the worst husband and dad one could imagine and after divorcing him and winning full custody of our daughter, life as a single mom was better and easier for me, and far better and healthier for our daughter. At that point, I decided I wanted another child and started the adoptiong process as a single mom. I was nearly done with the adoption when I met my husband so we intended up adopting our second daughter together. However, I was fully ready to adopt her alone and raise two daughters as a single mom. And I work fulltime. And my family all live several states away.
There are kids out there who need a home. It is heartbreaking to visit orphanages crammed with kids desperate for a home and one parent, let alone two. Most of those kids won’t ever find a home and if they end up with a single parent, they are extremely blessed because now they have nothing and no one and their prospects for the future are heartbreaking.
Being a single parent isn’t so bad. And being a single parent is sSOOO much better than raising kids with a bad father figure. I treasure every moment I was a single working mom raising my then 5 year old daughter. It was an incredibly special bonding time when it was just us two. We are incredibly blessed to now have a great husband and dad around, plus another child, too, but if he hadn’t come along, I’d be happily raising my two kids alone. Oh, and I’m in my 40’s.
Don’t give up on your dreams. Pursue them whether it be alone or with a partner. The church preaches a single type of family unit but it is not always optimal or even possible.
Good luck and regardless of what you chose or what comes your way, God bless.
Comment by Lulubelle — July 23, 2009 @ 3:32 pm
Just thought I’d let you know that although I am married with kids, I am very aware that there are many women out there just like you. I am sad for any woman who faces forty who hasn’t married and had kids if that is what she wanted to do. I have unmarried siblings (one sister who doesn’t want kids, one sister who really did want kids). I know that if I was single I would be watching the years tick by and have to start facing the possibility and then the reality of not having children.
So, please know that I think of you.
As for on this side of the fence, I see a lot of people who have to grieve for their broken or unfulfilled dreams. I hope that you can find meaning and beauty in your life and in your challenges so that you realize that you wouldn’t trade them.
I know one of my sisters (who wanted to marry and have kids but dates guys she meets in bars) sort of understands that she never got accidently pregnant like some of her friends who weren’t careful about BC, and she never actually married or had kids any of the loser guys she dated because she wanted to do it right. So, she maybe could have been a mom like all her friends, but she didn’t want to be a single mom. She could have made those choices and those mistakes, but she never did. So part of her really knew that those trials were worse than being single and facing childlessness.
Comment by jks — July 25, 2009 @ 2:12 am
It is said of Abraham that, when so old he was “as good as dead”, he “against hope believed in hope”, that he might still receive the blessing of parenthood and posterity.
“He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith,” we are told.
These scriptures once burned in my heart, inspiring me to levels of faith and trust exceeding all that I had before experienced. Precious blessings came in the Lord’s good time in which my faith and trust in Him was confirmed, and more.
There are no guarantees, of course, even where our most righteous desires are concerned. But keeping up hope, even when the odds seem stacked against us, is part of the good fight. God bless you to fight it.
Comment by tbrochny — July 30, 2009 @ 10:06 pm
Oh Marie, at 39 you still have a good few years left to have children if the opportunity arose. At 38 I married for a second time, by 40 was pregnant, at 41 gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Thought my baby making days were over and was thrilled and happy to have my one little girl. Fast forward to age 45, pregnant again! Gave birth at 46 to another healthy baby girl. I’m now 48. Both were unplanned, natural pregnancies, and the last one in particular was a complete shock to both myself and my doctors.
My situation was not ‘ideal’. As a less active member I married a non-Mormon. I never thought I would have any more children - and yet here I am at the age of 48 with a 7 year old and a 22 month old.
I have a friend who at 39 was still single but was determined to have a child. She adopted a little girl from Guatemala and they are the happiest little family you’ll ever meet.
You never know what course life will take you on…be open to possibilities. All the best!
Comment by Deb — August 2, 2009 @ 7:32 am
PS. I almost forgot to mention another friend of mine who got married at 40 and just had her first baby at 44.
Another couple I knew years ago were in their 40’s but battled with infertility. They eventually adopted two delightful little girls.
So, it can and does happen…
Comment by Deb — August 2, 2009 @ 7:34 am