To Not Be A Mother

This blog is dedicated to every woman who has brought life into this world and has dedicated and sacrificed their own lives to raising their children. I admire you all.

Note: I could write a dozen blogs on this topic, there is a lot to say and much to debate. How interesting it really is to anyone else (not mention the fact it's the third "serious" entry in a row), I don't know, so I tried to keep it short (although I know it's still long).

Here we go...on "To Not Be A Mother"...

It is not surprising, yet still somewhat unsettling (at least to me) that in an age where women are considered to be equal in society (emphasis on considered – I think actual equality is still up for much debate), where a woman may choose to do pretty much anything she wants, where a woman has the possibility to take control of her herself and her life in every aspect, there is still a very strong societal expectation that women shall reproduce. This expectation that women should both want and have children seems almost stronger that the expectation that women find themselves a husband. It seems to me that people are more confused about why a woman would not want children than why a woman would not want a husband. And here I am, not wanting either! Talk about having some explaining to do! (Dave, I love you madly, I just don’t desire that piece of paper.)

I am a woman who has chosen not to have children. My reasons are both simple and complex. Simply, I just don’t want children. I sailed through my 20’s never having that burning, yearning desire. At 30 I went through a brief period where I thought my biological clock had begun to tick, but in hindsight I think it was actually my biochemical time bomb ticking and the idea of having something to love forever sounded nice. In reality, I like kids, just not that much to want to be responsible for one. To me, it’s just too much responsibility. Yep, I’m selfish. I want to do the things I want to do, when I want to do them. I really don’t want to be one someone else’s schedule. I don’t want to give up my freedom. If it suddenly dumps snow and I want to ski, then I want to be able to do that. Without worrying about what I’m supposed to do with my kid. If someone suddenly throws me a couple of tickets to a concert, I want to go. Without worrying what I’m supposed to do with my kid. And what the hell am I supposed to do when I go on vacation? (Yes, I am one of those people who cringes when she sees a child seated nearby on an airplane and for life of me I do not understand why you would take a child to Las Vegas!) So, you get the picture. Don’t get me wrong. I think kids are great. I think parenting is the hardest most underrated job (yes, it is a job!) in the world. I have a niece and a nephew who fill my heart with so much love it aches. But it is all consuming. I don’t have it in me to fulfill that job. I admire every mother (and father) who does. Because really, that is what it is about. Don’t reproduce for the sake of reproducing. Bring life into this world because you know down to the very core of you that you want it, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself, and that you will give everything you have to your job as a parent. It has to be priority number one. So, like I said, this job is not for me.

More complexly, as I entered my 30’s and really began considering this issue, I had to factor in my illness. What does it mean to have a mental illness and bring a child into this world? For me, there were a couple of factors that really gave me pause for thought. The first being fairly straightforward: pregnancy and medications. Like drinking and driving, they don’t mix. If I were to become pregnant, I would not be able to stay on my medications without risking harm to the baby. I don’t know of any doctor who would allow a person to continue taking the medications that I take while they are pregnant. Right away, this is a no brainer. While I may toy with the idea of not taking medications, going off my medications is absolutely not an option for me. I cannot think of anything that would convince to stop my medication, including a child. The probably consequences are just too grim. This realization was probably the catalyst which lead to my recent surgery. What if I accidentally got pregnant? I’d be left with two very undesirable choices: 1. Abortion. I am very pro-choice but don’t know that I could make that choice for myself; and 2. Stop drugs and have a baby. I don’t want to stop my meds and I definitely don’t want a baby.

On top of this, I spent much time considering the impact of my illness on my ability to parent as well as its impact on a child, were I to have one. I thought of all the times I have been unable to care for myself. I have spent much time requiring other people to help me take care of myself. Could I ever put my child in a position where I may not be able to fully care for it? And what about putting my child in a position of taking on a caregiver role, which is very common in these situations. Could I put my child in that position? I realize that I have people in my life who would step in and help me, but at the end of the day, I know that for better or worse, my illness would have an impact on a child, just as it impacts those close to me in my life now. I think of how difficult it is for Dave to deal with me at times (such as now). How hard would it be for a child to grow up having to deal with my ups and downs? Don’t get me wrong. Many people with mental illness have children and are wonderful parents who raise happy, healthy children. This is not all about self-sacrifice.

But the bottom line is that I don’t want children and adding my illness to the picture just solidified that even more. So, I wanted to be totally risk free. Hence, the tubal ligation. Which brings me back to this expectation out there that all women should be yearning to give birth! Telling people you are choosing not to have children, and in fact are fixing yourself so that there is absolutely no possibility of same is quite interesting. Most common responses included: “are you sure, but what if you change your mind?” (as if I had just woke up one day and made the decision – this was some 4 or 5 years in the making!); some people seemed almost offended, particularly those single women of the “time’s a ticking” age group who didn’t have children themselves (this was particularly strange); some people seemed utterly perplexed at the idea that I would not want to have children (“what do you mean you don’t want kids?”); I’m pretty sure some people really didn’t take me seriously; I think many people questioned my judgement (or at least that is my perception) and I’m not sure how much explaining made it make sense to anyone; and of course, pretty much everyone said that Dave should get a vasectomy, to which I very loudly and repeatedly replied: MY BODY, MY CHOICE, I ALONE LIVE WITH MY DECISION!!!! Oh, and I can’t forget medical staff – everyone at my surgery and during my post surgery hospital stay assumed I had already had children (“so, no more for you, eh?”). I mean, I know most people getting their tubes tied have already had kids, but really, should we be making this assumption?????

Anyways, at the end of the day, the most important people got it. Actually, probably everyone got it. I love my mom the most for telling me she thought I was making the best decision for myself and that she admired me for it. Still, in this day and age, isn’t it interesting that we question this choice made by a woman. Or that we make judgements about it. Or that, as a woman, so much explaining has to be done about it. When do you ever hear anyone asking a guy why he doesn’t have a kid yet, when he’s going to have kids, or why he doesn’t want kids?