Choosing, Pt. II

Amy's column featuring people's suggestions on how to deal with the question, "When are you having children?" (Answer: neverrr!) was apparently a hit. I got a few comments on it, and blushed as my blog post about it was tweeted and re-tweeted by some of my friends. Thanks, Samsanator, TheUndomestic, and thelifeinthepink! Yesterday, Amy printed yet another letter from a couple battling with the issue of children--but this time they're pitted against one another: the woman wants another child, while her husband doesn't. Yawn? Twist! He's the one staying home with them.

Dear Amy: I have been with my mate for about 15 years — married for the last five. We have two delightful children, ages 4 and 2. For some time now, I have wanted to have another child. When I have attempted to discuss this with my husband, he becomes angry and states that he doesn't want more children. During one discussion that turned into an argument, he said he'd rather be divorced than have another child.
He has two adult children from a previous marriage. I work outside the home, so he cares for the children — he took an early retirement from his job. I have explored the possibility of my caring for the kids while he works or both of us working, but he is not interested in returning to work.
Our marriage is strained, and I'm not happy. At times, I find myself hating him because of this. Can you help? — Desperate for Another

Dear Desperate: If a full-time working father with a stay-at-home wife posed the same issue, I'd tell him to count his blessings and get over it. And so you should count your blessings and get over it. [Fair enough. But....since, say, the 18th century, how many full-time working fathers have posed the same issue? Ever since having enough spare heirs to carry on the line became a virtual non-issue (ha!) on this side of the world, I feel fathers rarely insist to wives that they want more than the two children they already have. At least, if it's happening it's not coming up in advice columns]
Until you have cared for two young children as a stay-at-home parent, day in and day out, you can't really know how unrelenting full-time parenting is. [Absolutely true...and yet, there are full-time parents who do want more children, so....]
Essentially, what your husband hears is that you would like to add to his burden.
I deduce that he is older, more experienced and more exhausted than you are. [I think Amy's probably right here. It's possible he only agreed to have children with her in the first place because she wanted a family of her own--he could have been "done" with all that years ago. In this light, it's pretty admirable that he's giving her both the family she wants and the career she wants, and no one has to pay for day care. She's got a pretty good deal.]
You have little idea what challenges lie in wait for you as a parent, but your husband does. [Also true, but not necessarily fair...if "knowing what you're getting into" were a pre-req for parenthood, no one would ever have their first child. And most parents with older children don't have more than even a couple years of foresight as to what's coming next. I mean, yes, this experienced father does know what's coming and therefore can fairly say he's not up for it. And it's better for him to be honest about it. I just can't help but feel that Amy's being a little harsh on the mom.] He knows that he's in for at least 20 more years of full-time daddy-hood.
It's unfortunate that you're unhappy, but you're way too willing to sacrifice your husband's happiness for yours. If you can't manage your disappointment, get counseling.

In the end, I basically agree with Amy's advice. It's no good to bring a child, or try to bring a child, into a family where one parent is not into it. Since they have two kids, and they each have a job or retirement situation with which they're comfortable and that meets their families needs, I think she's right that it's time to be happy with what they've got and live with it.

I guess what surprises me is how skeptical Amy seems of this woman's concept of motherhood. I appreciate that since the father is the full-time caregiver in this case, she takes his point of view and, ultimately, his side. But she also seems to suggest that since this woman is not home with her kids, she is oblivious to the gravity and challenges of parenthood, and that surprises me--especially since Amy herself was a single working mother for many years. This seemed unexpectedly anti-working-mother to me, and something about it didn't quite sit right.

And yet, if it were a father writing in, not a mother, I probably wouldn't have these qualms. So maybe Amy's actually being fairer than my brain can handle. What do you think?

I must say that somehow describing one's own children as "delightful" suggests a sense of pleasant detachment. Other people's children are delightful, or not. One's own toddlers might be the light of one's life, or a drain on it, or both, but the relationship is a lot more involved than "delightful."

Also, I think the issue goes deeper than just (just?) whether or not to have another child. The fact that he is totally closed off to even discussing it--to the point that he says he'd rather get a divorce--and the fact that she keeps bringing it up and "hates" him for not being open to it suggests that they've got a lot more issues than just this one. I wonder if he's tried to explain/express to her why he feels their family is complete--could be thousands of reasons--and if she'd even listen.

I don't think they should have another child. But I do think they should talk to each other about it.

On Respecting EVERYONE'S Right to Choose....

Who would have thought that deciding never to become pregnant could raise as many hackles and sermons as deciding to terminate a pregnancy?

When there is no conceivable (ha!) harm to any stage of human life, no breaking, bending, protesting, or changing of any law, WHERE do people get off thinking that the life-changing decision to reproduce rests with anyone but the potential parents?

Yesterday Amy ran a series of letters from readers responding to an earlier letter from a woman seeking a snappy comeback for people who insist on questioning her decision not to have children. The column in its entirety is below; my comments interspersed.

Dear Readers: Some time back, I ran a letter from "No Babies in South Dakota," about how to respond to frequent queries about when she and her husband would have children.

Because they don't plan to have children, they were looking for a "snappy comeback." Readers responded by the bushel. A surprising number of readers accused people who don't wish to have children of being selfish. [This is unbelievable to me! Selfish with respect to whom? Whose needs are not being considered? It just makes no sense!]

Other readers offered snappy comebacks or other responses to the age-old question: "When are you going to have kids?"

Dear Amy: Why is it necessary to have a snappy comeback? Most people ask out of curiosity.

Being a person who is decided against kids and marriage, I always politely but firmly say that was my lifestyle choice.

Only a Neanderthal would push the point, and then I still politely but firmly say, "These questions are getting a little personal." — Personal Choice

[Hmm...as is so often the case, the vanilla answer is probably the only one that will get the inquisitor to realize that THEY'RE the one being rude. Snappy feels good, but just gives the busybody the chance to denounce you as a terrible person and rejoice that you're not choosing to multiply your DNA. Which I guess still achieves the same end.....]

Dear Amy: I'm a 49-year-old woman. When people ask me why I don't have children, I just say, "I love doting on other people's children, and with such a wonderful niece and nephew, that's enough for me." This has worked well for me, but on occasion I have had to set some boundaries with particularly insistent people. In those cases, I said, "It is a personal decision that is not open for discussion." — Elisa

Dear Amy: "No Babies" should more honestly rationalize her decision by just admitting, "I'm selfish, and I don't want to interrupt my lifestyle" or "I dislike children; they are so untidy," or "I'm afraid I'd make a child turn out as miserably neurotic as myself." — Disgusted

["Disgusted?" Seriously? I cannot understand why these people are SO BITTER and judgmental. "I don't want to interrupt my lifestyle?" A child is not an interruption--it's a paradigm shift. You shouldn't be having children unless family life IS your lifestyle. Choosing how you want to live your life, and how you CAN live your life, is not selfish. Having a child that you know you can't love or care for properly--THAT'S selfish.

You can LIKE children without wanting to be a parent. Or you can honestly DISLIKE children--in which case the decision not to have them would be well-founded--but that doesn't mean the only "honest" recourse is to announce this preference widely. Just as, in the company of a garbage collector, one wouldn't say "I could NEVER be a garbage collector, it's so DISGUSTING," tactful people who don't want kids are probably right to remain reticent about their reasons--not only because those reasons are personal and private, but to avoid giving the impression that they look down on the choices of their friends and relatives who ARE parents--something parents tend to read into these situations, but non-parents generally have no desire to convey.]

Dear Amy: If you don't have kids and you're happy with it, you're "childfree." If you don't have kids and you're not happy with it, you're "childless." — Childfree by Choice[

[Yay semantics!]

Dear Amy: My husband and I have known couples that have "elected" not to have children. It seems that these couples always replace the children in their lives with a very pleasant lifestyle that includes frequent vacations, nice clothes, fine cars, above-average homes, season tickets to sporting events, plays, concerts and a lifestyle that couples with children never dream of.

All to replace the emptiness of an empty nest. This all smacks of the '60s hippie culture through the '70s "me generation." — Not Buying It

[This, to me, smacks of the Depression-era/Greatest Generation, raised to sacrifice, adhere to one's duty, live simply and frugally--and that to do more than that is ostentatious and selfish. That there's something shameful about a "very pleasant lifestyle." Yes, couples who do not have children, in most cases, have more disposable income. That's just math. It does not mean that they're trying to "replace" children with luxury or embrace a profligate lifestyle that "couples with children never dream of." WHY would people without extra mouths to feed, bodies to clothe, and minds to educate stick to the same budget and lifestyle as people with them, while their earnings sit in a stack at the bank?]

Dear Amy: To the couple with concerns about inquiries: Bottom line — it is your private business! Remember, too, that you have the right to change your mind. In one case we know of, it took 17 years, but when the baby came, it was for all the correct reasons. — No Excuses/No Regrets

Dear Amy: I, too, have the same "no babies" problem.

Nothing infuriates me more than when people say, "You want them, but you just don't know it yet." I am 31, and my husband is 33. We know, and it's a no for us.

I am starting to think "We can't have kids" is the easiest response. — No Babies in Meraux, La.

[Right, until people start asking questions about your fertility and your attempts to have children or pursue adoption.....]

There are so many more complicated, troublesome problems in the world that need questioning and prodding....why on earth do so many people care about the choices that other adults have made--choices with which they are completely content, and which have no bearing on anyone else's quality of life?

This question of course could, and should, be extended to include any other number of issues where benign personal choices somehow become ammunition in any number of private and public forums....live, let live, and MYOB!

You Must [Not] Have Been a Beautiful Baby....

This week Prudence brings us another column featuring 21st-century concerns about hypothetical reproduction (See last week's, on being your own golden goose):

"A Face Not Even a Mother Could Love" (man, I can't even compete with her titles)

Dear Prudence,
My boyfriend and I are in a healthy and loving relationship, and we are beginning to talk about marriage. We both want the same number of kids at the same point in our lives. It is presumed that these will be our biological children. The issue is, I'm not sure that I would want to bear my boyfriend's children. While he is incredibly intelligent and has a great personality, he is markedly less physically attractive than I am. We get occasional lighthearted comments from friends and family about the discrepancy. Having biological children has never been important to me, and I think adoption is great. I believe that he will be an amazing father and that our children, biological or adopted, would be bright and well-behaved as a result of good parenting. Should I bring these thoughts up with him? I think he would be open to the idea of adoption but would also be hurt by my rationale. At what point should we discuss this more seriously, and how should I tell him how I feel?

—Skinny Bitch

What? WHAAAT?

**pause to regain powers of speech, and to lower eyebrows**

First of all (of many, I should say), why would you be in a relationship with someone whom you find so unattractive you couldn't bear to look at a baby ( your own child!) carrying only half of his ugly little genes? I mean, great brain, great personality, fine, but if you have no physical attraction to him, why are you even wasting his time? Perhaps a more important question is why is this "incredibly intelligent" person remaining in a relationship with someone who openly admits that they don't find them attractive? But he didn't write in, she did.

Second, what kind of family and friends (and whose family and friends?) make "lighthearted" comments on the discrepancy between their levels of attractiveness? Do they also make "lighthearted" comments on the discrepancy between their levels of intelligence? And their ability to be tolerated in social settings?

Third, if she wants pretty babies that badly, she should handpick a sperm donor because adoption makes no guarantees of attractiveness. Is she thinking she'll get to select the cutest one from an array of babies displayed neatly before her? Or that she can return it if it gets awkward and ugly when puberty hits? Does she know anything about how the process of adoption works? Or does she simply think her boyfriend is SO hideous that ANY child would be more attractive than one he would spawn?

Finally, I have to suggest that at least part of the reason S.B. isn't interested in giving birth is that it will mess up her hot bod (perhaps reducing her to the level of hideousness displayed by her guy). Why is she dating this guy anyway? Does it just make her feel better about herself to constantly be able to say "I deserve and could get someone so much hotter" without actually having to DO it? Shudder.

As an aside, clearly wanting the same number of kids at the same time in your life does NOT mean you are compatible and should marry and procreate! If all people who wanted 2 kids in their early 30s after they had a job and a house would be happy together for the rest of their lives, finding a mate would be much easier.

Prudie, as always, puts it well:

Dear Skinny,
You're wise to avoid the potential tragedy of reproducing with your boyfriend: Your children could get his looks and your personality. Perhaps your boyfriend's already got an inkling of how you feel because of the Leonardo DiCaprio mask you ask him to wear when you make love. And although Brad and Angelina are both fecund and support adoption, I'm not sure they're going to agree to place any of their future progeny with you just to help you avoid the embarrassment of having a child who looks like your boyfriend. I'm trying to imagine how you initiate this discussion with him. Something like: "I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you. But when it comes to having kids, I'm sure that if we adopt we'll have a better shot of having decent-looking ones than if I let you impregnate me with your hideous sperm." That should go over well! What's supposed to happen when you are in love with someone (who also happens to be intelligent and have a great personality) is that you discover, despite objective measures, that person is beautiful to you. Your boyfriend sounds like a catch, so maybe you should toss him back so that he has a chance to find someone who's not permanently stuck in the shallow end.

—Prudie

On being your own golden goose

This letter to Prudence is truly 21st-century advice column stuff:

Dear Prudie,
My wife and I have been married for a thoroughly enjoyable three years, but we've recently fallen on hard times. At nearly 30, I now realize becoming a screenwriter should be Plan B, although I still have to find Plan A. My wife is a 24-year-old student. We'd like to start a family but can't for a few years. She has suggested egg donation. From the various listings, it sounds like we could make $6,000-8,000 per shot. As she sees it, we'd be helping a determined couple have a family, we could use the money, and she's just "flushing them down the toilet every month" anyway. Any child would be lucky to share her genes—she's smart and gorgeous. But I have concerns. First, I think these hopeful parents should consider adopting. Second, despite the technicalities, I have a hard time seeing her eggs merely as genetic material. Part of me feels that since any child that results from this would be half my wife, I would feel a sense of responsibility for it and its well-being. What should we do?

—Leggo My Eggo

This letter stood out to me because, at the risk of giving TMI (need that be a concern, on one's own blog?) this is something I considered briefly, about a year and a half ago. Some clever folks from a local fertility clinic advertised for egg donors in the graduate school building, where they knew plenty of fertile young women with great genes and not quite enough cash would be wandering around. I was intrigued enough that I actually looked seriously into it and read about what the process entails--and not just for the money (though I admit that's what first drew my eye to the flyer). I was legitimately interested in the thought of helping a couple (or a woman) who was unable to conceive go from fetus to family.

The whole process turned out to be way too intense for me--it's a much more invasive and long term medical undertaking than, say, sperm donation. Also, if it works and the recipient winds up with multiple fertilized eggs (octuplets, anyone?), she would be in a position to decide whether or not to reduce the number of fetuses for her own health or that of some of the babies. I can't really argue with her right to make that decision, and I'm certainly not saying that my hypothetical biological connection would give me some right to be involved--the whole point is that the donor is NOT in any way the parent. Nevertheless, I simply wasn't comfortable with the whole thing.

And while I was put off by the guy who wrote this letter saying that he thinks "these hopeful parents," whom he doesn't know, and doesn't know anything about, should choose to adopt instead, I must admit that I kind of agree with him. I'm not going to tell people that that's what they should do. But serious reflection led me to the conclusion that I also wasn't comfortable actively helping them do otherwise--even for cash.

Prudie pointed them to online resources to find out more about the process, and reminded them that if they chose to go ahead with this, there was a lot more to it than just a few thousand bucks to tide them over until one of them gets a full time job--and they should consider all aspects of the decision, not just the financial benefit.

P.S. Kudos to Prudie for addressing all interesting and somewhat fresh issues in this column. Facebook crises are becoming ever more common, but nevertheless--four letters and not a single "should I break up with him?" deserves a nod.