This is not one of those “I must justify why I’m not having kids” posts. Mostly, because I don’t generally justify my choices to anyone but Husband (because he
has to gets to live with me).
My impending nephew’s estimated arrival is next month already. I make it sound like he’s being delivered by a DHL truck or UPS guy…indeed, I’m sure my sister and her S.O. would be THRILLED* if a truck driver delivered their spawn.
I am excited as hell to be an aunt again, and am already spoiling him rotten with clothes and toys. Mwahahaha. We haven’t even gotten to mountain dew and candy during babysitting..I mean…noisy toys for birthdays/Christmases/fun presents…I mean…NEVER MIND. Hopefully my sister won’t read this anytime soon, or ignore it altogether (seriously, it’s your best option).
I never had a burning desire to be a mother. Nearly all of my friends (of both sexes and all orientations) knew “someday” they’d have kids, I knew I wouldn’t. No, really: in elementary school I wrote short stories about bears ripping the arms off of people and hated playing with dolls. I’m just not driven by the biological clock my friends talked about. Many of them said (often in a condescending or smug “I know more than you” tone, which made me want to punch them in the face…with love, of course) that “eventually you’ll be DYING to have one and you’ll change your mind,” or even better: “but you’d be such a great mom!” Whatever THAT means.
Yeah. Hasn’t happened yet. Not when there are so many Verruca Salts in public, providing excellent birth control tantrums that keep me happily swallowing my pill each night.
As it happens, both of us generally adore kids. Husband is one of those weird baby-whisperer types: they immediately fall asleep, content, when he picks them up.
It’s fucking creepy, honestly. I think he gives off a secret baby-sleep-gas or something.
The annoying thing is, I always said I’d never get married, but then I met Husband and my devious (and deviant) heart did a 180… and I ended up married. Having changed my mind about the merits of a committed, married relationship I wanted to give myself wiggle room afterward in case my uterus pulled a similar 180 and demanded spawn (and peeing 7,000 times a day and puking for 3-6 months, both of which I already do thanks to a bladder the size of a peanut and allergies that hit hard from April -October).
After all, I try to be open minded and accepting of growth and change . I hear you snickering: I didn’t say it always WORKED, just that I TRY to be open to change. Judging judger.
Anyway, I told myself we could discuss and change our minds until I turn 35**, but after that I’m done and the factory’s CLOSED. There are multiple reasons for my arbitrary cut-off date, both logical and not, but this isn’t really about the reasons…it’s about the door closing. See, I hit that milestone this month, and I’ll admit it came with a momentary twinge of concern. Will I regret not having babies someday when I’m an old fart and everyone else is showing off their grandchildren in the home? I don’t feel inferior or lonely or less-than-a-woman for not having babies, so I don’t think so.
I have an awesome husband and a life filled with love. I’m happy to leave motherhood to those who really ache to be moms. I wrote here a while back about the importance of aunts/uncles/adult role models, during a time when I was still considering whether I wanted to change my mind and have children. Ultimately, I’m still ok with my decisions. I’m still happy being an aunt the kids can come to when they’re too embarrassed or scared to talk to their parents. And I still plan on spoiling OPK as often as possible.
*In case you didn’t catch it, this is sarcasm
** Yes, I do understand that I could still have a perfectly healthy baby after 35. I have friends who did exactly that. I didn’t say it wasn’t an arbitrary number: it’s MY number.