As I sit and watch the hours tick away on my biological clock part of me wants to smile because as I near that zero hour I imagine myself free from the horribly personal questions and judgements that circle me.  Once I reach that point of no return who would dare to question why I did not have kids, though I am sure these questioning looks will be replaced with ones of unsolicited pity.  Which leads me to a question of my own…to breed or not to breed?

I was born in Midwest USA to a Christian family.  I have a brother, a sister, and more cousins than you can shake a stick at, but I have never felt the call of motherhood.  Growing up I played with all sorts of dolls paper, plastic, and porcelain.  I loved them all, but Barbie was my favorite.  She had it all; a great car, cool house, tons of cloths, a handsome husband/boyfreiend, and not a baby in sight.  So my Barbie’s sister Kelly often played the role of her daughter because the grown up married women in my family all had kids, and thus the women in my Mattel world did as well.  Never once did I question my motives nor the running script of all my Barbie play time.

Boy meets girl, they date, they marry, they have a baby.  It made sense, right?

Fast forward a bit, and you would find me daydreaming of my future husband, of our beautiful wedding, and of what to call our nonexistent children.  This meant that when my friends started to get married as undergrads I often found myself jealous.  Not in a petty I wish they weren’t so happy way, but in a why aren’t I on schedule kind of way.  As if somehow I had made a mistake and it was costing me time and ruining my chance at success.

Then everything changed.  I went off to graduate school while a large proportion of my friends had babies, and while I was happy for them, congratulated them even, I was no longer envious.  My version of success was not limited to the female hat trick, find a guy, marry him, and have his children, I had dreamed of as a child.  My degree and my future career became my new focus.  Simultaneously I realized that the hat trick had never actually been my desire.  I told myself self I would have a family because that was the norm where I grew up not because I truly wanted one.

Now I am in my thirty’s in a stable relationship, at the beginning of my career, childless, and happy.  Not everyone understands how this could be my choice, but it is.  Unfortunately, people feel that this personal decision is up for debate.  As such I am constantly asked when I will be having children, why I’m not married yet, and my answer is always truthful. 

Its not something I see myself doing at this stage of my life I have too many other demands on my time.

If I’m being completely honest its not something that I want either.  Rationally speaking, I’m not ready to put someone else before me and my goals.  Is this a bit selfish?  Yes.  But is that alright?  Also, yes.  I don’t need the moniker of Mother to feel as if I have succeeded in life, or a dependent to feel useful, and I don’t think this makes me a bad person.  Children are great, don’t get me wrong, but they are not for me.  If I should change my mind at some later time that will again be my choice, and no amount of mother nagging, friend teasing, or busy body pestering will have impacted that decision.

So be happy for me because I am happy with my choice.  Do not judge me because me bearing children is not up for discussion.  As the saying goes it takes all sorts to make the world go round…even mine.


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I hope that no one is offended by my opinions as that was not my intent.  To each there own so long as it harms none I always say :).  ~All the best