When I was a little girl, I just assumed that one day I’d have children. After all, I was the oldest of four daughters, my dad is the eighth of nine children, and I grew up surrounded by car-loads of cousins who came to visit at any given time. The house was never quiet. We enjoyed playing kickball and volleyball in the back yard. Farm families had lots of kids, and those kids were sure handy to have around when it was time to milk the cows, mow the lawn, bale hay and tend the garden. My sisters and I did all of these chores. I figured my adult life would look a lot like this – minus the cows and hay baling chores.
That’s not what happened.
After high school, I went to college and discovered that I loved the university lifestyle. I met some amazing professors who mentored me, befriended me, and nurtured me in ways that my family couldn’t. As graduation approached, I unflinchingly opted for graduate school, and began the laborious, tortuous, often grueling journey that is the path to doctor-hood.
While I was grappling with the early stages of my academic career, many of my childhood friends and cousins were doing the marriage and family thing. They got married before they could legally buy a beer, and before they could get the thank-you notes written, they were expecting a baby. There were a few twinges of jealousy on my part during this period, however, most of the time I felt an absolute peace about pursuing my education.
A few years later, I was turning to the next page of my graduate school journey when I met a great guy. He was the brother of a good friend, and we began what was to be a fairly comfortable eight-year partnership. He was (and still is) a great guy and I wish him nothing but happiness, but things never evolved into marriage for us. There are many reasons for this, some better than others, but the bottom line is that we just were not meant to be partners for the long haul.
During the course of this re
lationship I finished my doctorate, moved to Michigan, and earned tenure. Great. Now what. I was thirty-seven, and ready for the next chapter.
Along my journey, I considered adopting on several occasions. My reasons for not pursuing an adoption are numerous. The cost is at the top of the list, followed by a lack of family support in Michigan, and finally the very demanding mistress that is the collegiate professoriate. Some of my closest friends adopted children as single moms, and they have my utmost respect. They created beautiful families. They had resources that I didn’t have. I knew that being a single mother was not a role that was right for me.
In 2010 I was getting ready to make my next career move which involved relocating to the other side of the Atlantic. Without warning, there he was – the sweetest, most precious man to ever cross my path. He was close to perfect – bright, side-splittingly funny, well-educated, and completely at ease with my alpha-female personality. He had been teaching at the college level for about twenty years, had a little firewood business on the side, and was caring for his elderly father. He was forty-seven, never married and also didn’t have children. The more I talked to him, the more I liked him. Fortunately, that was a two-way street, and we married in July, 2012.
I have been happily married to my Finch for over five years at the time of this writing. He is an absolute joy. In our short time together we have been to Africa, South America (twice), Europe, Canada, and all over the US. We share a house with his father who is now ninety-five and blessed with remarkably good health for his age.
I never set out to be in my mid-forties without children. I love being an aunt and Godmother. My sister’
s two children are the loves of my life, and I would move heaven and earth for them. They know that.
While I will likely never know how it feels to carry another life in my body, or experience childbirth (can’t say I’m disappointed about missing out on that one), I have a full life. I have an extraordinary family, a fulfilling career that provides me with an excellent income, and the freedom to travel the world. I have known love that filled my heart to the point that I thought it could burst. I have the ability and the means to give my niece and nephew things their parents can’t. It is a joy for me to lavish them with unconditional love, honest guidance that comes from a place one step removed from parental discipline, and yes, the material things that my budget can spare since I’m not saving for college tuition.
Some of us were not meant to be parents. If I had been destined to have children, somewhere, somehow it would have happened. As of today, it hasn’t. I am perfectly fine with that.