What happens when you go against mother nature and all her plans? When you look her straight in the face and tell her that you don’t want to be part of her grand master plan, her path for you, your entire purpose of being on this planet in the first place? What happens when you slap her hard in the face and scream her that you will be choosing your own path, doing your own thing and not doing something she considers ‘natural’?
I do not want babies. Ever.
Telling people, as a married 20-something woman, that I do not want children, ever (and I make my point that the ‘ever’ really does mean ‘ever’), is met with shocked faces, looks of disgust and leaves me feeling as if I have some vile disease. It would be met with better reactions if I told people I had a horrible contagious air borne sexually transmitted infection likely to render them blind, deaf and dumb with the body of Vanessa Feltz and the head of a blowfish.
I denounced the idea of motherhood a long time ago. As a child I had one doll which I think I played with out of pity but really I preferred playing "Shops" or "Army" with my brothers. Dolls even now freak me out; all weird plastic skin and starry blinking eyes. Dolls that are dirty give me the heebie jeebies, and now several long years down the line the idea of motherhood has still not crept into my mind - if anything my decision is getting even more pronounced. It is a shame that the world will not get to see the creation of my husband, Mr W, and I but we will be having too much fun with our own lives to have any such void.
Getting married has not resulted in Mr W and I spending the next years locked away in our bedroom trying to create a ‘honeymoon’ baby, nor have we needed a child to cement our relationship; but most importantly we haven’t felt we’re missing out. There is no void that can’t be filled by a few furry animals of choice and a lot of holidays! (Have you ever tried backpacking with a screaming baby and a backpack full of baby essentials?)
So aside from the fact that babies a) freak me out and b) are so far removed from anything I’m interested in that, why don’t I want children?
I’m sorry to disappoint but babies just don’t do it for me. They’re not part of my lifestyle choice nor the path I’ve chosen for myself. They’re just not ‘me’. Thrust a baby in my face and expect me to coo over it and go all gooey just won’t happen; I will hold it out of politeness and grumble a few choice words if I really have to but that’s about it. (Oh God all of the mind numbingly boring things people do cooing every time one smiles, or moves, or makes a 'cute' gargling sound or even just breathes…to me that is what a baby is supposed to do so it’s really not a miracle when one does exactly what is says on the tin)
Being a mother also means you have to display ‘baby on board’ signs and other related paraphernalia in your car, on your desk, on your being. If I’m going to crash into you I’m going to do it regardless of whether you have a sign in your car window (or does displaying one in your car like some kind of status symbol envelop your car in a beaming barrier of safety propelling anyone about to crash into you away like two opposite ends of a magnet?) Well done you for having perfect working ovaries or strong sperm able to swim upstream. I have beautiful boobs, should I get a sign in my car window stating ‘beautiful boobs on board’ No, and you know why, because it’s pointless. I’m sure you are very proud of your screaming offspring but I really do not need or care to know that you have one on board.
Being a parent turned the parents I know into child obsessed bores. I really do not care what your child had for breakfast, what it did yesterday or how many hours through the night it slept. Telling me these things will not make me go home and want to conceive immediately through the use of a turkey baster and specially selected sperm donor nor turn my sex life into a military operation devoid of any emotional or physical gratification. If anything the tales of children told from their stressed, sleep deprived parents puts me off the idea even more.
Whilst you are developing the bags under your eyes I am carrying shopping bags home with me. My money is selfishly all for me. There are enough children already in the world without me creating more but there will never be enough clothes, shoes or holidays for me. If you really want a child that badly and are that selfless…why not adopt?
So please, don’t patronise me and tell me that I’ll ‘change my mind’ or that I’m wrong for going against the grain of what is ‘normal’ in society. No one ever tells a woman with a deep need to procreate that she’ll change her mind. I’m not a power crazed career woman nor do I have a bubbling under the surface hatred for everything and everyone, It’s just a choice that I, as an intelligent woman, have made. A choice that I and Mr W are very happy with and a choice that has nothing to do with anyone else
It’s difficult to stick to my guns when everything in the media dictates the happy ending as having a baby. Years ago it was getting married; now it’s being a happy little family. Films do not show happy childless couples and if they do they are always childless through a fertility crisis rather than choice.
So, Mr W’s mother, you can pack away the baby box full of bits and bobs you have been collecting over the years for us and have hidden in the attic (yes I know all about it). You will never have a blonde haired blue eyed grandchild from us, and Mum, it will just be more grandpuppies and grandkitties for you to animal sit.
This is our decision and we’ve never been more certain about anything so if anyone asks me one more time why I don’t want children my answer will be ‘just because’.
Image via x-ray delta one's Flickr