Ladies who are 35+ and single or married after 35: when did you grieve and accept childlessness?

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iwillrisenow

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This question is for women who are 35+ and either single or who married after age 35:

When did you first begin to grieve the fact that you may/will never have children?

For some of us, once we reach our early thirties and do not find ourselves in a relationship or even with any potential relationship on the horizon…it is time to face the reality that we may not be called to natural motherhood in this lifetime, or that the call will go unfulfilled.

It seems a particular hazard for some women in their thirties to face the ticking clock of declining fertility at the same time as they are dating.

But the time pressure of this approach may sabotage potential relationships, which, unless they are with long-term friends or are miraculous meetings, may need much more time than the handful of years left “on the clock” for discernment…

I am in my early thirties now and about ready to begin the grieving process…it will be a difficult and painful journey, but it may be healthier this way than holding out hope for marriage and family to suddenly come together from nothing within the next five years or so. This is not the same as no longer being open to life…but rather an acceptance of circumstance and trust in what God has willed for my life right now (even if a five year miracle does happen, the reality right now is I am in my early thirties, single, and childless). If I accept and grieve my childlessness (and especially figure out how to channel this grief and pain), then perhaps I will become more patient if God’s will is for me to remain single beyond my thirties, into my forties or later…

Did any women out there take the time to mourn and/or grieve their childlessness once they realized that they risk sabotage and/or impatience if they did not?

If so, how did (do) you do this?
 
I don’t fit into your rubric, but here’s something anyway.

My husband and I started trying for a baby when I was 25. Nothing happened for six months (which I realize is not that long in the world of fertility). By the time I got pregnant with our first child when I was 26, I had pretty much given up on it and was starting to collect information about adoption possibilities. I was honestly very surprised to be pregnant, even if that was officially the plan–I had kind of forgotten about the plan.
 
We also don’t fit in the poll. We are among the infertile who’ve had to accept childlessness the hard way. When you’re Catholic people expect you to have at least a small handful of children and right off. We carried this heavy cross for eight years, then our one and only miracle came and we were so happy. But then the baby died at eight weeks. We are not able to adopt for many reasons. My female health is so poor right now, we are having to use NFP to avoid another miscarriage. We know we won’t have children. It’s not in Gods plans for us. It is so hard to accept, but we really don’t get to choose our crosses now do we. 🤷
 
I began to grieve in my early 30s, because it seemed childlessness was a very real possibility. We did conceive, however, and had twins when I was 36.

Your thread reminds me of this column by Fr. Ron Rohlheiser, because it speaks to a larger confrontation that happens to nearly everyone. I still have other things that I mourn, now that I am much older than that, even, but I know what you mean that what you are talking about is a particularly profound loss to contemplate.

BEWAILING OUR VIRGINITY

JULY 14, 2002

Scripture is often shocking in its earthiness. The Book of Judges gives us an example: A certain king, Jepthah, is at war and things are going badly. He prays to God in desperation, promising that if God lets him win this battle he, Jepthah, upon returning to his kingdom will offer on the altar of sacrifice the first person he meets. God takes him at his word. Jepthah wins his battle and is overjoyed. His joy quickly evaporates. Upon returning home, he sees his own daughter, in the bloom of her youth, running out to meet him and he, conscious of his promise to God, now faces a horrible dilemma – break an oath to God or sacrifice his own daughter.

He tells his daughter of the promise and is ready to break his vow. She, however, offers to die in sacrifice … except there is one thing (as there always is in every great story of the soul). What is the one thing in her case? She’s a virgin and will now die in non-consummation and barrenness, never having achieved wholeness and never having given birth. So she asks her father to grant her a period of two months to go into the desert and bewail her virginity. Her father agrees and she and her maiden companions go out into the desert to grieve the fact that she will die unwhole, barren, never having been granted the full symphony. She does her grieving in the desert, returns, and dies on the altar of sacrifice.

On one level this is an awful story – a terrible commentary on God, patriarchy of a bad sort, and religion at its worst. At another level, though, it’s a profound story, worth meditating. Biblical stories of this genre, as we know, are neither historical nor meant to be taken literally. Rather they depict the inner dramas of the soul, of every soul, in every age. This is our story. We too are invited to mourn our virginity. What’s our particular virginity?

Henri Nouwen once said that here, in this life, “there is no such a thing as clear-cut pure joy, but that even in the most happy moments of our existence we sense a tinge of sadness. In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of limitation. In every success, there is the fear of jealousy. Behind every smile, there is a tear. In every embrace, there is loneliness. In every friendship, distance.” That’s an important insight.

There is no such thing as a clear-cut, pure joy. This constitutes a kind of virginity. We are always somewhere unwhole, barren, unable to give full birth to what’s pushing for life inside us. This frustration takes various forms during the course of our lives, but it’s always there. Sometimes it’s there in the area of sexuality, irrespective of whether we are married or celibate. I remember a former colleague of mine, a married woman, challenging a group of priests: “You, celibates, feel too sorry for yourselves,” she said. “Do you know what’s worse than sleeping alone? Sleeping alone when you’re not sleeping alone!” Everyone, in some areas of life, is deeply alone.

More deeply though our frustration is with the limits of life itself. Art too has its martyrs, Iris Murdoch once remarked, and there is no greater pain in life than the inadequacy of self-expression. None of us ever finds adequate self-expression.

This stems not from idiosyncratic pathology, but from the way we are built. We are made for the infinite and are, as John of the Cross says, caverns without a bottom, infinite canyons that nothing can ever fill in. With a depth and a capacity for the infinite, we shouldn’t be surprised that we don’t find all we need within the finite. We’re over-charged for this life.

We experience this in our daydreams. There we feel the discrepancy between what we yearn for and what we can actually have, though there comes a day when we realize that, this side of heaven, our yearned-for consummation is not to be had. But the fire doesn’t die. We ache just as much after the realism soaks in. It’s then, when we realize that so much of what we yearn for is not to be, that, like Jepheth’s daughter, it’s time to head for the desert to make peace with our souls and with God for the infinite patience that is asked of us.

Karl Rahner once said that “in the torment of the insufficiency of everything attainable we come to realize that here in this life all symphonies remain unfinished.” Former spiritualities called this living “in a vale of tears.” There is nothing morbid about such a statement.

In the end, one way or the other we all die as virgins, never having fully experienced consummation, barren, never having given birth. Celibate or married, we all sleep alone. There comes a time to mourn this so as to find the joy that lies on the other side, after the grief, on the altar of sacrifice.

(the “vale of tears” is from the Salve Regina, a prayer which expresses the universal nature of this difficulty very profoundly and yet very matter-of-factly:

*Hail, holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee to we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn, then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.

V. Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.
R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.*
 
I don’t mean to diminish your thread by broadening it inappropriately. Instead, I mean to say that our times do not prepare us to get through these losses as other times perhaps did, since this and other sorts of profound loss were so much more common before antibiotics and other health care advances. I refer to the times when the mortality rate among children 5 and under was about 20%, and the loss of adult lives to childbirth, accident, and epidemic was also extremely high. It was a time when anyone in profound mourning had many people around to mourn with them.
 
Had my first child at 35. No problems.
Second at 38. No problems.
Just went through menopause at 59.
Finally. :rolleyes:
Doctors will tell you you’re all washed up at 35. Not so. My mother had me at 40.

God bless.
 
pianistclare said:
Had my first child at 35. No problems.
Second at 38. No problems.
Just went through menopause at 59.
Finally. :rolleyes:
Doctors will tell you you’re all washed up at 35. Not so. My mother had me at 40.

God bless.
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THIS! 👍 You give me hope! I am in 30’s and I hope to remarry and still have children. My doctor said I can still have children, anyway. He laughed when I asked him!

My mother had me at age 37, so even well into your 30’s and even the 40’s women can still conceive. I know of a woman who had a healthy baby not too long ago and she is in her 40’s.

Don’t lose hope… women are having children later in life more so now than they used to.
 
iwillrisenow said:
This question is for women who are 35+ and either single or who married after age 35:

When did you first begin to grieve the fact that you may/will never have children?

For some of us, once we reach our early thirties and do not find ourselves in a relationship or even with any potential relationship on the horizon…it is time to face the reality that we may not be called to natural motherhood in this lifetime, or that the call will go unfulfilled.

It seems a particular hazard for some women in their thirties to face the ticking clock of declining fertility at the same time as they are dating.

But the time pressure of this approach may sabotage potential relationships, which, unless they are with long-term friends or are miraculous meetings, may need much more time than the handful of years left “on the clock” for discernment…

I am in my early thirties now and about ready to begin the grieving process…it will be a difficult and painful journey, but it may be healthier this way than holding out hope for marriage and family to suddenly come together from nothing within the next five years or so. This is not the same as no longer being open to life…but rather an acceptance of circumstance and trust in what God has willed for my life right now (even if a five year miracle does happen, the reality right now is I am in my early thirties, single, and childless). If I accept and grieve my childlessness (and especially figure out how to channel this grief and pain), then perhaps I will become more patient if God’s will is for me to remain single beyond my thirties, into my forties or later…

Did any women out there take the time to mourn and/or grieve their childlessness once they realized that they risk sabotage and/or impatience if they did not?

If so, how did (do) you do this?
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I’m sorry you are going through this.

I had my last child at 40 and a friend of mine had number 9 at 50. I know quite a few women that were still having children in their 40’s.

I guess I’m trying to say there’s still hope. But, I understand that you are trying to prepare yourself just in case.
 
pianistclare said:
Had my first child at 35. No problems.
Second at 38. No problems.
Just went through menopause at 59.
Finally. :rolleyes:
Doctors will tell you you’re all washed up at 35. Not so. My mother had me at 40.

God bless.
Click to expand...
Yes. Just look around CAF–there are a lot of babies happening well after 40.

I would never recommend that people wait a long time on purpose, but the average woman has nearly 40 (eek!) years of fertility (if we’re counting from menarche to menopause).
 
GreyWings said:
THIS! 👍 You give me hope! I am in 30’s and I hope to remarry and still have children. My doctor said I can still have children, anyway. He laughed when I asked him!

My mother had me at age 37, so even well into your 30’s and even the 40’s women can still conceive. I know of a woman who had a healthy baby not too long ago and she is in her 40’s.

Don’t lose hope… women are having children later in life more so now than they used to.
Click to expand...
Yes. Medical care and nutrition is better now, and women tend to be healthier in general (except maybe for obesity issues in some).
There’s a woman in my parish that has 9 kids. Last one born at 46. She doesn’t seem to show any indication of slowing down either. They come from a huge family, and desire one themselves.
This is going to sound odd to some, but a Novena to St. Anne is highly recommended.
All things are possible with God. Blessings to all on this thread.
 
I am a man, do I have a voice here?

I have grieved ever since my first abortion. Since then I had a second one, and here at 43 I remain never-married, with much cohabitation behind me, and a broken engagement in 2008 that really seemed the final word on my fitness for the vocation of marriage.

Perhaps I can salvage my life by discerning the diaconate or religious life. But I feel more like I just have a vocation of barrenness.
 
I was in a difficult marriage for many years and wasn’t Catholic then. I didn’t have children, I didn’t want them with him after the first couple of years as I was living in a metaphorical battle-zone and was glad I was able to completely cut all ties with that person after the divorce. If we’d had children, that wouldn’t have been so easy.

Marrying my (also childless) soul-mate at age 53, all chance of children was long behind me. Now I sometimes think ‘what if’, with a little regret. However, I don’t think about it for long, as it clearly wasn’t my path to follow, for whatever reason.

I hope things work out for you, OP. x
 
I don’t quite fit in the OP’s parameters either, since I married before 35. After 30, but before 35.

It’s become evident that we’re destined to not have children. Biologically it isn’t yet too late, but it’s not looking good (medical issues for both of us). Nevertheless, I accepted it without grieving. It’s not that I haven’t taken the time to do so—I just haven’t felt it necessary. I figure that our childlessness is the will of God, and I try to conform myself to His will. Besides, I have been abundantly blessed in so many other ways it seems unreasonable to complain about this one thing, even though it’s a big thing.

The Husband, on the other hand, has not yet accepted our lack of progeny and still grieves because of it. Our pastor, his therapist and I do what we can to help him, but nothing seems to ease his sense of loss yet.
 
Thank you all for sharing your experiences on this difficult topic. No matter what your age was, how long you went through it or are going through it, it is not an easy road and it’s an even more difficult one to talk about.

The parameters are limited because I was (and still am) trying to reach out to a very specific demographic. This is not to diminish the experiences of young couples who struggle with infertility (or the fear of it) even temporarily, or men (we absolutely need to have more discussions and support here) but rather to find women to identify with and speak to, especially about the situation of “circumstantial infertility or childlessness” as it’s sometimes called (women and men who are childless because they are unable to find a partner within the limited window of their childbearing years rather than by choice).

I chose 35-ish (it really should be anything over 30— thank you, UpUpAndAway) because if a woman is single-single (110% single-- not “just married”…not engaged…not dating…not “you should meet this guy”…not “trying for a baby already”) by her early thirties, it is very unlikely (not impossible…but very unlikely) that things will suddenly magic together in time for her to have that first baby by 35 or even 40. Actually having a baby at 35-40ish is one thing…just starting to get to know your future spouse or even just getting married at that same age having never had a child is quite another. I’m trying to find more people in the latter category to talk with about this. 👍

I’m honestly not sure if I necessarily need to grieve-grieve myself…I was never one of those women who felt destined to have children, even though I’ve always been open to them. God’s will is God’s will and I trust in His wisdom…but, as I know from other losses, pain and grieving are funny things and can strike at you unexpectedly. This is my first step into consciously realizing what’s been there for a long time. The journey may be smoother than expected or it may get choppy…most likely a combination of both. I’m just hoping to find other women to talk with, as most of the women I know personally are mothers or still younger.
 
I did get married after 35 though must say it was the second marriage and I already had one child. However I always wanted more than one kid so to some point Ikkinda had to deal with the idea that I was not having more than one. I met my current husband and got married all passed 35 so in the beginning we mentalized ourselves that another child may not happen. Then a good friend of mine had a child at 42 and she pointed out at me all the women wenknew who had kids around 40. In the end we decides to leave it IP to God and see what happens. Now I am pregnant at 41 and have been doing fantastic so don’t think that when you get to 35 you have to say good bye to kids. You still have a lot of time. If anyone would have told me at 33 that by 41 I was going to be remarried and expecting I would have said that nooo that won’t happen. Well in the end God had a little different plan for me so don’t memtalize yourself that you won’t find a husband in x years and that if you don’t do x by this age you won’t have kids. You never know what God has in store for you in the future.
 
iwillrisenow said:
I chose 35-ish (it really should be anything over 30— thank you, UpUpAndAway) because if a woman is single-single (110% single-- not “just married”…not engaged…not dating…not “you should meet this guy”…not “trying for a baby already”) by her early thirties, it is very unlikely (not impossible…but very unlikely) that things will suddenly magic together in time for her to have that first baby by 35 or even 40. Actually having a baby at 35-40ish is one thing…just starting to get to know your future spouse or even just getting married at that same age having never had a child is quite another. I’m trying to find more people in the latter category to talk with about this. 👍

I’m honestly not sure if I necessarily need to grieve-grieve myself…I was never one of those women who felt destined to have children, even though I’ve always been open to them. God’s will is God’s will and I trust in His wisdom…but, as I know from other losses, pain and grieving are funny things and can strike at you unexpectedly. This is my first step into consciously realizing what’s been there for a long time. The journey may be smoother than expected or it may get choppy…most likely a combination of both. I’m just hoping to find other women to talk with, as most of the women I know personally are mothers or still younger.
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Just wanted to say I was single-single at 34: no dating, no nothing. On fact o was still 100% single at 35 and to make it worst I was a single mother with a small child which makes it even more difficult to even attempt to date. So don’t place age limitations on your head. Placing those limitations in your head only causes not being aware enough of the signals that God may be sensing you.
 
I am 38, gonna be 39 this year not married not dating no nothing lol. I never really grieved at all. I guess this means having a child was really not in my heart. I did go through a period in my early 30’s where I noticed babies a lot and was enchanted by them but not in a way that made me long for them. The fact that I worked with disabled children for 5 years maybe cured me of my longing for them 🤷🤷
I have always asked God to show me what he wants of me and I guess having babies was just not in the picture. Am I opposed to the idea? no but it’s not something I dwell on.
Before you ask, yes I’m not exactly an average person in this regard, I have always been odd in a lot of things hehe
 
My wife and I have had six miscarriages and then we gave up. We are now too old to have any children. We feel abandoned by God who never heard or answered our prayers over the past twenty years.

Jacques
 
I met and married my husband when I was 35 (met on Catholic Match!). I will turn 40 this year and we have two beautiful children. I too worried and questioned whether I would marry or be able to have children. I would encourage you to delay your grieving process until you know for certain that you will not have children. If you are in your early 30’s you may have plenty of years left. Trust in God.
 
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