Swimming Against The Tide, Part II

So, in my last post I spent most of my time complaining about why I don’t fit in and how isolating it can be. I still feel it very keenly, but today I want to focus on hope.

Feeling like no one “gets you” can be difficult and painful, no doubt about it. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by it. My last post was written after DH and I had spent a few days away from each other, and I was feeling lost. As much as I hate to be so reliant on another person (hey, my nickname has always been “Miss Independence,” and my tagline is, “I can do it myself!”), he is my greatest ally -- the one who makes me feel “normal,” the one who understands my opinions and preferences, the one who swims against the tide with me. When I am with him, I am different but I am safe and supported.

When I said in my last post that I felt that I don’t even belong on this planet, I realize that feeling is not new-to-the-world either. In Hebrews, Paul* described people of faith as being “strangers and foreigners on the earth” who “desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Heb. 11:13-16 NRSV). Regardless of who we are or what characteristics we possess (or don’t), we believers are all aliens here. My hope is that someday we will find ourselves in a place where we do belong and that those elements that once isolated us will no longer matter.

In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis describes this in a way that moves me every time:

Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same.

I don’t fit in here, but that’s OK. I’m not meant to.

*I know there is some dispute about the authorship of the letter to the Hebrews. Here I am following the tradition I was taught in my theology classes.

Swimming Against The Tide, Part I

I know that a lot of childfree feel at least a small sense of alienation from the rest of the world because of our counter-culture decision not to breed. I have encountered many of us (myself included) whose unconventional attitudes extend beyond family to many other areas of life. In a few of my posts about religion, marriage, and left-handedness, I have described or alluded to feelings of not fitting in. Recently, events have occurred in my life making me feel that not only do I not fit in with a certain group of people, but that I don’t even belong on this friggin’ planet.

While I will probably wait until some other time to blog about those specific events, right now I feel compelled to reflect on why these events hit me so hard and to share a small bit of camaraderie (ironically) with anyone else who feels as alien as I do.

Some of this is in my core personality. Laura Carroll and others have noticed anecdotally that many childfree are introverts. In the article “Revenge of the Introvert,” we read that the style of an introvert is in contrast to “noisy” American culture. We are misunderstood by the extraverts who dominate the culture, sometimes accusing us of poor communications skills, of holding back ideas, or of social awkwardness / shyness. Worse for me, in many settings I actually am socially awkward. All of this makes it hard for me to connect with most people. (I highly recommend that introverts and extraverts alike read this article. For introverts, it might help you verbalize what you already know about yourself; for the extraverts, it might help you understand what goes on in the heads of us introverts. One warning though – unfortunately for me, it also dredged up some old hurts that I have suffered at the hands of extraverts.)

My belief system also plays a role in my isolation. While most of the country seems happy to put themselves in the box of a mainstream political party, of course I have to identify as a Libertarian, putting me at odds with both Democrats and Republicans. Indeed, shortly after President Obama took office, Libertarians were pretty much placed on a Homeland Security watch list as potential terrorists (never mind that Libertarians tend to be pacifists…).  I suppose it’s no wonder that a recent study found that Libertarians tend to be more unhappy than Republicans and Democrats (perhaps also because we are the ones whose eyes are wide open to government trampling on freedom under the guise of “being for the common/collective good” or “upholding America’s moral values”).

And when a patriotic holiday rolls around and I go to the house of God where I am asked to pledge my allegiance to the Republic, and everyone around me is all “yay America,” I wonder if I am the only one who has an issue with the “worship” of the U.S. government? (One of these days on this blog maybe we’ll have a chance to talk about separation of church and state. For now, I have to give a shout out to a Mennonite brother who does a beautiful job articulating his church’s stance on this: “Why I Don’t Sing the ‘Star Spangled Banner.’”)

Even when I’m not trying to be different, I always end up doing my own thing, the opposite of what everyone else is doing. I don’t mean to be so contrary. I don’t want to be all alone. Of course, each of us is unique, and when I feel that I’m the only childfree-Christian-introvert-southpaw-Libertarian-X-Y-Z, someone else could easily say that she is the only Buddhist-Democrat-dermatologist-iguana owner-A-B-C. In that sense, I suppose we are all alone.

And though I like who I am and wouldn’t change a thing -- and I believe that God has sculpted me into the person I am -- I still cannot help but think that life would be so much easier, possibly even happier, if I were just like everyone else.

Something That Could Change My Mind

I was enjoying an old episode of "Dr. Who" last night, an episode called "The Doctor's Daughter."  In it, the Doctor lands on a foreign planet and is immediately apprehended by some humans who force his hand into a machine that takes a tissue sample.  A moment later, a beautiful young woman looking to be about 16-20 years old steps out of a chamber of a "progenation machine"... the Doctor's daughter.  She is intelligent, thoughtful, and friendly, with a winning smile.  Though programmed with the knowledge and skills she needs to survive, she still has things to learn, and she spends the episode finding out what it means to be the daughter of the Doctor.

I looked at my husband and said, "Hmm.  I would really strongly consider it if it could be just like that, that easy!"

So, Am I Really “Childfree” Anyway?

As I navigate the childfree community online, I have found a variety of definitions for being childfree. Some of them are extremely strict -- you cannot call yourself childfree if you have or are even willing to have stepchildren, godchildren, or foster children, or even if you would be willing to take in someone’s children (nieces/nephews, for example) in an emergency. And you must be committed to having an abortion if you were to get pregnant. Some definitions are looser -- stepchildren are OK and godchildren are fine, as long as you don’t actually want to be a parent. And others don’t seem to worry too much about the details; you haven’t borne a child and don’t want to? You’re childfree.

I have spoken several times on the blog about adoption and have occasionally described how I thought I would adopt an older child someday. I have also stated that it seems that God is not asking that of me, at least not right now.

But the reality is that I am open to it. I always have my heart wide open, ready if the right circumstances presented themselves. That seems to be the way God works with me; I think he knows that I can be a little distracted and oblivious, maybe thick-headed when I start to over-analyze things, so for the big stuff, he pretty much drops clear-cut opportunities right in my lap.

A friend told me a story of a woman who opened her home for a few months to a teenager from another country as a humanitarian gesture. During that time, she fell in love with this young person and decided to adopt him. Another friend of mine adopted her first child, a teen, when my friend was in her 50s. One of my favorite stories is that of a couple who mentored a young adult and adopted him when he was in his mid-20s!  I could see any of these things happening to me and my husband.

And I think that one of the appeals of a relationship with a young adult is that I would much rather have a mentoring relationship with a young person than to be a parent. I have neither the stamina, nor the wisdom, nor the patience to be an authority figure or disciplinarian. In addition, when I see what parenthood has done to most of my friends & acquaintances, how most of them have changed for the worse with their sense of entitlement, their self-absorption, their myopia, their descent into traditional gender roles, etc., I don’t want to fall into those traps. I would be loath to have a young person refer to me as “mom.”

So I’m definitely pregnancy-free and baby-and-kid-free, but perhaps I should say I’m comfortably on the fence with respect to teen/young-adult adoption, accepting whichever way God would nudge me. And if I’m only ever nudged in the direction of mentoring, child sponsorship, and supporting the adoptions of others, that’s just fine with me.

Mother’s Day

I don’t have a problem taking a day out of the year for each of us to thank our mom. After all, I would guess that for a significant number of us out there, mom loved us when we were unlovable, and she tried her best to help us grow into decent people.

I know that some childfree people have a beef with this celebration, and I understand their reasons. Some feel it is society rubbing in that they are second-class citizens; some just want recognition for their contributions to the world; some feel left out. For me, rather than feeling left out when I saw people on facebook posting greetings to each other, I was flooded with relief. No one was going to equate me to my uterus with a “Happy 1st Mother’s Day, So-and-so!” In fact, I actually felt a little sorrow for some of these women -- interesting people who have done some pretty magnificent things, but now people treat them as if they are only a mother and nothing more. They are their reproductive ability. (This kind of treatment of women is similar to something I described in Love Being Married, Hate Being “Mrs.” I suspect that even if I had children, I would want to keep a low profile on Mother’s Day.)

Actually, however, the toughest part about Mother’s Day for me is picking out a card for my mother. I love her, she loves me, and she has helped me through a few really tough times in my life, but she doesn’t fit the profile of the typical card oozing about how perfect, how great, how best-in-the-world she is. (I hate the sappy sentimentality of most greeting cards anyway, which is not unique to Mother’s Day.) There is no card that says, “Thanks for trying.”

Attributable in part to my mother’s upbringing, she was an impatient parent who was quick to grab a belt. I’m sure she would swear up and down that she wanted to be a mom, and I know she loves her kids, but from all appearances she did NOT enjoy being a mother (and probably should have been childfree; she would have made a wonderful aunt). As soon as I was old enough to watch my siblings, she left stay-at-home motherhood for a 70 hour/week job. I don’t know whether I should be relieved that she wasn’t home all day to scream at us, or remain bitter that I was saddled with raising the other kids. Ultimately, her other interests left little time for the rest of the family. We took family vacations without her; she never attended any of my sporting events; I think she made it to a few of my music events …but always arrived after I had performed.

That’s not to say that she did nothing good. I do have some fond memories of her looking after me when I was a child. Once she left our family, I was able to see a kinder, very nonjudgmental side of her; perhaps the stress of raising children is what had brought out the worst in her. And when I was an adult, my relationship with her improved significantly.

So on this Mother’s Day, I thank my mom for loving me, and I pause to reflect on how hard it must have been for her to raise me, given her family history and her temperament. She did the best she could with what she had.

A Reader Asks for Help

I received a message from a reader asking for help. Rather than have the message buried in the comments section of another post, I thought I would share my response here and invite other readers to weigh in on the dilemma.

“I need help please” wrote:

I have been married for 3 years now and I have never wanted children. I am willing to have a child with my wife because she wants one but she just told me, 2 days ago, that she wants more than that. First, I cannot and will not have more than one if we do. Second, she wants me to want to have children, to want to be a father. Now she believes that if we separate for a few months and we go to counseling on our own that I will come back and want children with her. Its not that I don't want children with her, I don't want children at all. I have no desire to be a father. Am I selfish for this? Am I sinning?

I am humbled that you would seek my advice, though I am not sure that I am qualified to speak with any authority on your situation. If you do believe that I can offer any valuable insight, I would like to first direct you to some of my other posts on the topic of whether or not it is a sin to limit the number of children you have (including 0).
Is "Childfree Christian" an Oxymoron?
Rebellion Against God
The Purpose of Marriage
Being Childfree and Christian Part I and Part II


The short of it is that I can find no biblical evidence that not wanting or not having children is a sin. But as with all major decisions in life, we should consider where God is leading us.

I recall a story from a pastor whose daughter came to him in tears one day. “Dad,” she said, “I’m afraid that if I tell God I’m willing to go to the mission field, he’ll send me to Russia, and I don’t want to go to Russia!” The pastor wisely replied, “Sweetheart, if you open your heart to God, either he will not ask you to go to Russia, or he will ask you to and you will want to go.”

I have no idea whether or not God will ask you to become a father. But if he does, I believe he will give you the heart that you need. And if he is asking you not to become a father and you do anyway, the children may suffer for it. I have seen in my own extended family the agony caused by ambivalent parents.

Adults can suffer too. Study after study has shown that marital satisfaction takes a serious hit when children come along - and many of these were wanted children!

Are you selfish? Of course, as we all are. But you are no more selfish than your wife is for trying to push you into having children that you don’t want to have. And, I see modern procreation as an immensely selfish act, one that usually is done with little to no regard for what is in it for the child.  In contrast, the fact that you are willing to have a child in the first place tells me that you are the kind of person who is willing to make a selfless sacrifice for the sake of someone else’s happiness. That your wife would ask more of you makes me wonder whether she is willing to make any selfless concessions in return. Perhaps there is more to this than just the issue of children?

I wish you the best and hope that you can find the answers you are looking for.

Readers, what do you have to say?

Childfree Quotes

I like to collect quotes on a wide variety of topics, and I thought it would be fun to start a quote page on my blog. I’ll continue adding as I find more, and I hope my readers will add too.

Some of these quotes are from people/organizations with whom I don’t share much philosophy (such as VHEMT) but are nonetheless spot on. Please don’t read more into those quotes than is intended. And while some quotes are serious, others are intended to be funny – so please keep a sense of humor about you! :)

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If the act of procreation were neither the outcome of a desire nor accompanied by feelings of pleasure, but a matter to be decided on the basis of purely rational considerations, is it likely the human race would still exist? Would each of us not rather have felt so much pity for the coming generation as to prefer to spare it the burden of existence, or at least not wish to take it upon himself to impose that burden upon it in cold blood?
-Schopenhauer (1788-1860), in his essay On the Suffering of the World

It goes beyond elitism for us to create replicas of ourselves while tens of thousands of Others' children die from lack of care each day.
-VHEMT.org

I have never even idly thought for a single passing second that it might make my life nicer to have a small, rude, incontinent person follow me around screaming and making me buy them stuff for the rest of my life.
-Tim Kreider, “The Referendum” (NY Times, 9/18/09)

Oh, I sacrificed my beautiful body for nothing; this must be what it's like to a have a baby.
-C. Montgomery Burns (“The Simpsons”)

'It takes a village.' That's just a saying. Us other villagers are busy, okay? I have other things to do in the village.
-Bill Maher ("Be More Cynical" on HBO)

It’s strange to have a creation out there, a deeply mutated version of yourself, running loose and screwing everything up. I wonder if this is how parents feel?
-Dexter Morgan (“Dexter,” season 2, episode 12, “British Invasion”)

I am old and have lived a long time but I will never understand why people agree to become parents so casually. I do more research when I choose a vacuum cleaner.
-Jane, The Childfree Life

…all this droning on about baby and toddler world is not, in the long run, doing any of us any good. For me, and many other women, it's boring and selfish, and it implicitly casts judgment on the way we choose to live our lives. For men, it just confirms what many of them secretly think, which is that women, bottom line, are only really interested in one thing, and that is making babies, and why should they be promoted or taken seriously or paid well?
- Rachel Cooke (guardian.co.uk, 2/8/09)

Most of my married friends now have children, the rewards of which appear to be exclusively intangible and, like the mysteries of some gnostic sect, incommunicable to outsiders. In fact it seems from the outside as if these people have joined a dubious cult: they claim to be much happier and more fulfilled than ever before, even though they live in conditions of appalling filth and degradation, deprived of the most basic freedoms and dignity, and owe unquestioning obedience to a capricious and demented master.
-Tim Kreider, “The Referendum” (NY Times, 9/18/09)

Reason #6,437 why I'm happily childfree: the satisfaction of knowing that I'll never become a walking septic tank.
-Dar1a, The Childfree Life, in response to the fact that "by the 36th week of pregnancy, amniotic fluid is comprised of primarily urine and dead skin cells."

Again I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun. And behold, the tears of the oppressed, and they had no one to comfort them! On the side of their oppressors there was power, and there was no one to comfort them. And I thought the dead who are already dead more fortunate than the living who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been and has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun.
-King Solomon, Ecclesiastes 4:1-3

Parenthood is not a Caribbean cruise, it's a big, expensive, loud, smelly, irritating and thankless job.
-Gibson, The Childfree Life

They had assumed human form in order to visit Earth, I suppose for amusement. But in vulgar human fashion they proceeded to conceive a child. And then like mawkish humans, they became attached to it. What is it about those squirming little infants that you find so appealing?
-Q (Star Trek The Next Generation, "True Q")

Children are an expensive hobby.
-a facebook acquaintance, regarding her child

The choice to have children calls for more careful justification and thought than the choice not to have children because procreation creates a dependent, needy, and vulnerable human being whose future may be at risk. The individual who chooses childlessness takes the ethically less risky path. After all, nonexistent people can’t suffer from not being created.
-Christine Overall, "Think Before You Breed" (NY Times, 6/17/12)

[I]t’s not simply that a baby puts a whole person-ful of problems into the world. It takes a useful person out of the world as well. Minimum. Often two. When you have young children, you are useless to the forces of revolution and righteousness for years.
-Caitlin Moran, How to be a Woman (quote is based on her experience having children)

I love her in that way that isn’t a friend or a lover or anything besides a child. Even though she’s not mine. And maybe for me that was the most important part of not having a child. Learning to love and not want to possess.
-Beth Lapides, "I Just Don't Want a Child" (from time.com, 8/1/13)

Lisa: Who says we're going to have kids of our own?
Bart: Not me man, this cycle of jerks has to end!
-Lisa and Bart Simpson ("The Simpsons")