Growing up I always hated to babysit. It was torture for me to play mommy at 15 but I did it for some extra money. Maybe it was that diarrhea diaper I changed at that age that swayed my decision or maybe my choice was made when I became a teacher.
The last time I remember dreaming about having babies was when I was still playing with my Baby Tender Love and ironing board. I can’t remember wanting children for more than a day in the last 10 years. I never got the Mommy Bug. When my Aunt Mimi was dying in the hospital because she was brave enough to stop dialysis, I told her that I was going to have kids and I meant it. After it was all over I lost the feeling once again.
After my mom died I asked my dad if he or my mother were ever disappointed that I didn’t have children and he told me that they never even thought that I would get married because I was always so independent and free-spirited. He told me that they always knew I hated babysitting and knew that I frankly never liked to be around kids.
Even as a young child I always wanted to be with the adults. Little kids annoyed me yet I was a small child myself. What I could never figure out is why kids actually like me. They always come over and try to get my attention. Maybe it’s because I sort of ignore them. I don’t know. That’s why I think it’s so funny that I became a teacher. I really do love my kids. Maybe they give me the fix I need in the mommy department.
My husband wanted to knock me up as soon as we got married but I always had some excuse: I’m not ready. Wait until I get tenure. Maybe next year. There was always a story. Finally, I assume, he got tired of asking and gave up on me. When I finally made the decision not to procreate, he said he was fine with it and that was fine with me.
I always said that if it was meant to be that I would have the baby – never going off the Pill was a sure way of NOT multiplying, so I never stopped. Recently I thought I might have been pregnant and lost my mind. I really didn’t know what I wanted to do even though I said I did. I bought a test and it was negative – a relief for both of us. I don’t think that my husband thinks I would be a good mother – but I KNOW he’s wrong. I think I would be a great mother.
I know this. I can’t hold a newborn without crying. It tears me up inside. Why? I haven’t been able to figure it out. The emotional unrest that (the act of just holding a baby) this puts me in, is phenomenal. I can’t explain it or maybe I don’t want to explain it – but I think it’s the former. Then it all disappears.
I’ve lost a lot of friends to the Mommy Club (you know who you are) and the list keeps growing. I will never be 100% sure that I made the right decision but I think I did. I don’t want to have my own kids and I’m ok with that. There are so many things that I still want to do before I no longer exist on this earth and having a baby will not fit into my plan. But is that reason enough? I don’t know, but I have to live with my decision – preferably in a loft in Miami or a Paris apartment.
So unless God miraculously bestows a gift upon me, I will remain childless and probably die alone. Although I don’t think having kids is any guarantee that they will be there for you. I’ve seen so many children abandon their parents. It saddens me.
I give parents a lot of credit. I couldn’t imagine worrying about another person 24/7 in such an intense way. If I can’t find the cats (they are house cats), I panic. If I can’t locate my father, I panic. If I can’t find my husband (he’s either pissed off at me or ignoring me), I panic. So if I had a child I would never sleep and NEVER stop thinking about them. I saw how my mom worried about me – and I tortured my parents.
I like to come and go as I please and find myself drifting farther away from my friends who can’t do that anymore. I live as a mom through my bffs and know without a doubt when I’m with them, that I can’t wait to go home.