It is that time of life, when
suddenly everyone around you speaks about weddings, real estate and
procreation. Being one who does not enjoy the centralised attention and
organisational stress which accompanies birthday parties, wedding is out. As
for real estate, it is my bank who decided it is not for me. Only the
procreation question remains open.
Up until recently, I had never
questioned the fact that I wanted children some day. And one morning I realised
that some day means now, or at least in the near future.
Being surrounded by couples with
young children, I feel I know what deciding to have children means, or at least
how and how much it changes one’s life. Especially women’s. This led me to the
realisation that I do not want my life to change, not now. Nor in the near
future. Yet how will I feel in a further future, when I will not have much of a
choice? The classic modern feminine procreation catch-22.
So let’s try to decide, now.
On the one hand I am good with
children. I may not be the most entertaining person they have met, but I give
them structure and security. Having taken care of my two baby sisters at the
tender age of 10, I have no fear of crappy nappies and crying toddlers. I
equally know how to manage homework and balance them with organised leisure
activities, and through my 15 years younger step-son I am learning how to deal
with teenagers. So if I were to have a child tomorrow, I think I would be
ready.
That may actually be part of the
problem. I think I know too much, at least of the responsibility and burden. So
much so that I started to perceive motherhood as some sort of alienating
experience, just when my friends enter their baby-craving phase. I remember
going through this phase too, a few years. I would book a return flight to
visit my sister, who had two young girls. Playing part-time surrogate mum for a
week and witnessing what motherhood had done to my sister’s everyday life was a
homeopathic mental contraceptive.
I understand there is much more
to motherhood than sleepless nights and dirty clothes. Some will say it is a
unique cosmic experience, others will speak about the infinite unconditional
love, the rejuvenating effect or the sudden unquestionable purpose it gives to
their lives.
For now, I have purpose, I still
feel young and I have enough love.
All may change, I know. Which is
why I felt the need for advice from other women, who already had had to make
these choices.
I am surrounded by many mothers
who share their desperation. Of course, none of them would say they regret
having had children. After all, the existence of a human being remains sacred
and unquestionable. I did not need to hear that from those mothers. It was
enough to ask myself whether I would want to be in their shoes, and hear a “no!”
echo in me.
These uncertainties remain difficult
to discuss with mothers. It feels both like an insult to their own children and
knife twist into their open wounded overcharge.
Perhaps surprisingly, it has been
easier to talk to women who had chosen against motherhood. Maybe because I am
so clearly of the same view that they feel safe enough to share. None of them
tell me they regret. It might be for the same reasons than mothers: at this
stage, not much to be done.
I have nothing against children.
I actually do like them. I also like my quite evenings and sleepy mornings. And
I hate being pressured by organisational preconditions in my private life. I
hate sport, and my body is already not in the best shape. What would pregnancy
and breast-feeding do to it? I like my job, although I also like free-time. I
don’t think one can have both and children on top.
The unconditional love argument
is compelling. Yet many couples with children see their relationship go down
the drain. This may be what happens to relationships in any case. I guess the
sleeplessness, constant individual sacrifices, lack of intimacy and time can’t
help. Sometimes I think I value my relationship too much, just like the rest of
my life, to put it through the challenges of raising children.
The cosmic experience point is
not bad either. Let’s assume it is a
cosmic experience. One which is available to everyone who can procreate, not
based on merit that is, but mere natural randomness. Does it mean it is the
only cosmic experience available in life?
As for the rest – passing on my
values, spreading my genes or continuing the human race – I see no reason why
it should be done. Not that I am not convinced that my values and my genes are
better than many.
I guess the only person who could
give me real answers to those questions would be someone who has lived both
lives, with and without children. If you are that person, your comment to this
post would be much appreciated.
So I still don’t know. Maybe the
lack of baby urge is an answer. Maybe the constant questioning is one too. Or not.
Maybe I don’t need an answer yet. All I know is: I am happy to be childless
tonight, to just sit and write or watch a movie with a glass of wine, freely.
Just like every other evening.