Sumiko at 61: No children, no problem? 4 areas to plan for as I won’t have kids to count on

Published on
25 Mar 2025
Published by
The Straits Times
I don’t regret being childfree. But in the back of my brain, “what-if” and “if-only” thoughts nag at me.
Regrets, I’ve come to realise, are built on best-case scenarios, a world where everything works out perfectly.
So if I had, say, two children in this perfect world, they’d be in their late 20s or early 30s by now. They’d be healthy, kind and smart, and in stable careers and happy relationships.
They’d be close to my husband and me, checking in on us regularly, not because they have to, but because they like our company.
But reality is seldom so rosy.
I don’t regret being childless – or childfree, the more politically correct term used for people who choose not to have kids as opposed to those who wish to but can’t.
But in the back of my brain, “what-if” and “if-only” thoughts nag at me. This usually happens when I’m being a particularly filial daughter to my mother (which isn’t all that often).
After a long day of running errands for her, or when I go out of my way to do something nice like take her on holiday, I wonder: Without offspring, who’s going to be doing all this for me when I’m at her age?
The idea of having children occupied a chunk of my young adulthood, though in a vague, romanticised and superficial way. I saw parenthood in terms of sweet-smelling babies, playthings almost, like adopting another puppy.
The hard parts – PSLE, financial strain, lifelong worry – I didn’t dwell on since children weren’t going to happen as I wasn’t married.
For a while, being around my sister’s daughter and son fed my broody instincts. Then they entered their teens and had their own lives, which had no space for an aunt.
By the time I finally got married at 46, I had become a different person. The yearning for children had long faded. After spending most of my life as a single, adjusting to a husband was already a challenge; adding children to the mix would have been unthinkable.
In any case, there were no expectations for me to have babies at that age and the idea of a last-minute dash to fertility treatments – I still had a teeny window left – didn’t even cross my mind.
Life without children has had its benefits, quite a few in fact.
Financially, I’ve probably saved at least $350,000 for each child I didn’t have.
Child-rearing is expensive, though the Government provides generous grants, subsidies and financial support throughout a child’s life. Depending on birth order, the education they pursue and household income, a Singaporean child can receive over $225,000 in subsidies from childbirth to the completion of secondary school, says the Ministry of Finance.
In 2018, economists from the National University of Singapore calculated that raising a child in Singapore would cost between about $280,000 and $560,000, depending on household income. Some estimates online are even higher, and these don’t include expenses such as helping your children with their wedding or housing expenses, which Singapore parents like to do, if they can afford it.
I’ve had the freedom to spend my money without worrying about setting aside funds for children’s holidays, enrichment classes or university fees.
Time-wise, I’ve had total control. As someone who finds fulfilment in her job, I could work as late into the night as I wanted without juggling school runs, childcare arrangements or bedtime routines. Holidays and eating out have not been constrained by kid-friendly options.
The emotional and mental peace of being childfree can’t be underestimated, especially for a worrier like me.
I’ve never had to deal with a child’s development issues, school bullying or acne problem. I’ve never known parental guilt, felt the pressure to be a “perfect” parent”, or to excel in both parenthood and career.
I don’t fear the pain of conflict, estrangement or disappointment that can happen in a parent-child relationship.
And yet.
As I age, I wonder if the choice to not have children will come back to bite me.
Family bonds
Children fill a home with life, bringing joy and chaos in equal measure.
There’s laughter, but also slammed doors and eye-rolls. Still, even their angsty energy can make a house feel more alive than the desolate calm of a childfree household where the most thrilling part of a Sunday is settling down to watch a drama on Netflix.
Children cement the idea of family. I wonder if my husband and I might have shared a deeper bond had we had a child together. There’s a closeness parents seem to have, which you see when they exchange a glance – of pride, amusement, bewilderment – over something their child has said or done.
I wonder, too, what kind of person I might have evolved into had I experienced motherhood and known what it is like to love a child. Wiser? Braver? Less self-centred? More patient?
In a perfect world, children are nurtured and loved, and when they grow up, they become confidants, companions and caregivers to their ageing parents. Love and support flowing both ways.
In reality, parents can’t always count on their children. Proximity, personality and life circumstances play a role. But I’d think that on average, if you were a good parent, the chances of begetting a filial child are reasonably high.
In Singapore’s ageing landscape, having children can offer seniors several advantages, particularly in practical and emotional support, says Mr Joe Tan, head of integrated case management at Care Corner Seniors Services.
Adult children often accompany parents to medical appointments, manage their digital devices and chip in to pay household and medical bills. More importantly, children offer company and emotional support, helping their parents feel less alone.
However, not all parent-child relationships are positive. “Some seniors may even face neglect or exploitation by their children,” Mr Tan notes. Others may hesitate to ask for help, fearing they’ll be a burden.
The quality of support often hinges on early family bonds. “Early bonding and family interactions set the tone for future support,” he says.
Family values matter. “Families that prioritise kinship and cultivate shared responsibilities fare better in caregiving,” he adds. Open communication also helps manage expectations and avoid conflict when caregiving roles evolve as parents age.
As to whether culture plays a role in filial piety, he says it is less pronounced than often assumed. The Malay community tends to adopt a more communal approach, with extended families playing a larger caregiving role. But overall, “family dynamics and values shape filial behaviour more than cultural norms alone”, he says.
The support system that children provide doesn’t exist for me, so who will look out for me when I’m old?
There are at least four areas I need to plan for as I navigate my childfree future: Finances, housing, estate planning and social support.
Finances
Ms Lorna Tan, head of financial planning literacy at DBS Bank, says that those who are childfree must ensure complete self-sufficiency in retirement. But some put off retirement planning, choosing instead to “reward themselves more with massages, fine dining, lavish trips and grooming services for their pets”.
“Not having to spend on kids’ enrichment classes may lull them into a false sense of financial security and adopt the mistaken belief that they have time to plan for their golden years later,” she says.
Those without children need to plan more carefully for healthcare and long-term care in retirement, she says. Since they won’t have children to rely on, they should consider the costs of assisted living or nursing homes.
I recently did some financial housekeeping, weeding out bad decisions and setting myself on a path of more prudent spending, savings and investments. Hopefully, this will provide for me till I die.
Insurance is a part of a person’s safety net but other than hospitalisation and basic long-time care insurance, I had not considered others, which is a matter of regret now.
There is, for example, critical illness insurance that can provide a lump sum cash payout if you are diagnosed with specified illnesses such as cancer, heart attack and stroke. This will help to cover immediate out-of-pocket medical bills, replacement of income and lifestyle adjustments.
Ms Tan says that premiums for critical illness insurance will be significantly higher for those over 60. Some insurers set age 60 as the last entry age.
“While the premiums are higher for older people, the coverage can still be worthwhile depending on your health, lifestyle, financial situation and family health history,” she says. But at 60, one may not need as much income replacement, especially if you’re close to or already in retirement, and you may want to reduce the coverage amount.
She adds that cancer-only insurance can be a more affordable option. There is also disability insurance for long-term care, and retirement income insurance.
Housing
My hope is to age in the property I’m living in, but I have to be mentally prepared that I might one day need to “right-size” to a smaller space that is easier and cheaper to maintain.
And what if I need care and facilities that a home helper can’t provide? Will I need to move into a care facility or a nursing home? It’s a topic I have avoided thinking about.
What I do know is that private nursing homes can cost upward of $7,000 a month, and premium facilities with private rooms can cost $10,000 or more – and that’s without additional care costs such as medical supplies and physiotherapy.
Estate planning
Estate planning is about deciding what happens to your assets when you die, and your care preferences when you are mentally incapacitated.
Lawyer Tan Hui Qing, a family and divorce partner at Harry Elias Partnership, says those who are childless should start thinking about drawing up a Lasting Power of Attorney (LPA), an Advanced Medical Directive (AMD), and a will to distribute their assets after death.
“That’s not to say that people with children should not deal with these issues. They should, because they are important to everyone. But if you have children, you still have a fallback, assuming you did not make those arrangements,” she says.
An LPA is a legal document that allows you to appoint someone to make decisions on your behalf when you lose mental capacity. This would cover areas such as your finances, property and day-to-day care arrangements.
There are two types of LPA, she says. The first is a general standard form which you can obtain from the website of the Office of the Public Guardian. You could also choose to draw up a more detailed LPA with a lawyer, with specific directions on how you want decisions to be made. “At the very least you should do the general one,” she says.
If you don’t have an LPA and lose mental capacity, a family member or friend would have to apply to the Family Court to be appointed your deputy, a longer and costlier process.
An AMD, on the other hand, is a legal document that will let doctors know whether you wish to refuse certain life-sustaining treatments when terminally ill.
There is also Advance Care Planning, a voluntary process for Singaporeans to document their preferences for medical treatment in advance. They can also designate someone to decide on medical care for them should they become mentally incapacitated. They can approach public hospitals and polyclinics, as well as certain social care providers, to make such a plan, which is not legally binding.
On wills, Ms Tan notes that intestate laws will apply if you don’t have one. Under these laws, there is a prescribed manner of distribution of your assets to surviving family members.
“A lot of childless couples think about giving to charity, and if you have not made those provisions in a will, then only your family members will stand to benefit under the law,” she says.
Social and care support
Care Corner’s Mr Tan says that while everyone’s situation is different, his team has noticed that childfree singles and couples may have fewer social connections, which can lead to loneliness and take a toll on mental well-being.
“Over time, they may normalise this isolation, losing interest in social activities and becoming disengaged from their communities,” he says.
It’s a good idea for childless seniors to turn to extended family and widen their circle of friends and potential helpers – people and groups who can keep an eye on them when needed. “Meaningful relationships extend beyond the immediate family,” he says.
He recommends joining community exercise groups or visiting Active Ageing Centres, which offer a range of recreational activities. Volunteering is another good way to feel more connected and lift your spirits.
Mr Tan notes that seniors with robust social networks often show greater resilience and independence, whether or not they have children.
As for me, I’ve only recently begun to understand how vital a social circle is to one’s well-being. It’s a lesson that came late, but I’m working on it.
And when it comes to children, well, I’ve long made my bed and I’ll have to lie in it.
The best I can do now is to make sure the rest of the house is in order as I age.
- Sumiko Tan is Chief Columnist & Senior Editor, Publications, at The Straits Times
Source: The Straits Times © SPH Media Limited. Reproduced with permission.
Photo: The Straits Times
Written By: Sumiko Tan
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