Women Without Children

For as long as I can remember, I always insisted I never wanted children. I didn’t like kids—I still do not, to some degree. People would often tell me I would change my mind when I got older. They would tell me that it’s different when it's your own kid. Clearly they never understood my issues with kids. It’s not that I hate them, it's that I want to be able to get away from them. I don’t want to listen to them cry or deal with their temper tantrums. I don’t want to smell their diapers or touch their sticky hands. I enjoy hanging out with them and playing with toys, I just like to be able to hand them back to their parents when it comes time for responsibility. Some people completely understand this point of view, but more often, us women who don’t want kids are looked down upon as if there is something wrong with us. It’s as if there are people out there who think our only job in life is to produce and raise children. I know there are women who felt obligated, even though they didn’t want kids, and that isn’t fair to anyone, especially the child. In today’s world, it is shocking that there are still women who are shamed for their life decisions regarding children, and it just isn’t right.

When I was five, my first brother was born. It seemed like it would be a good thing—everyone was excited and happy that there would be a new baby. Back then, my experience with babies was very limited, if it even existed at all. After he was born, it was something new and different, and I was not a huge fan. He smelled, he was loud, and he was disgusting when he ate, getting food all over his face and everywhere else. Obviously going from being the only child to suddenly having a little brother changed my life. I had to share and couldn’t have just anything I wanted anymore. I am sure this was difficult on me at first, but over time it became easier to accept that he would be there, playing with my toys, annoying me whenever he felt like it, and getting his way because he was younger.

When my second brother was born, I was hoping very much for a sister and was quite disappointed that it was another boy. Still, our middle brother would always remain the annoying one, often getting what he wanted while we compromised. Later on we started referring to him as “the golden child” since he seemed to be the favorite. Sometimes he still annoys me, but we usually get along, especially now that he lives far away. Sometimes I think we were just too similar, and that is why we fought so much.

When my parents divorced, all three of us went to live with our mom. It wasn’t as if we had a choice—my father was an alcoholic who could turn violent. My mom suddenly was the only parent of three children without the extra income my father provided. I was 14 when they divorced and had already been babysitting my brothers after school for some time before the separation. I really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter—when you are the oldest, you are the default babysitter. That’s just how it works. After the divorce, I found myself babysitting more often and eventually started to take on a sort of parental role without realizing it. Mom had to work and I was perfectly capable of taking care of my brothers, and that was what I did.

When I reached high school, I knew several girls who had babies. One of my friends actually had her baby in eighth grade. She could never do anything outside of school because she always had to take care of the baby and everyday it was always something new with the child. I’m sure some people think it was selfish of me to just not care about what sound her baby made that morning, or what the baby ate for dinner the night before. I was in nineth grade—I should not be having conversations about being a mother. And there we were, listening to her ramble on about her child, day after day. All this did was reinforce my opinion that having kids was a bad thing. She had no life outside of that baby, and for me—an introvert who preferred to stay at home and watch movies—for me to find her life boring was saying something. I started distancing myself from her because I didn’t feel that we were the close friends we had once been. She was already a parent, and I was still a teenager, even if I did have two boys at home that I was helping my mom raise.

I didn’t date for years because I just had no interest in boys. They all seemed stupid and pointless, and I had enough of my own problems. It did not help that probably half of my friends with boyfriends now had a baby, and my own father did not set a good example for relationships, or men in general. I did have friends who were boys, and that would stick with me for years: high school girls gossiped too much for my taste, and, as a gamer, I tended to share interests with some of the boys. I kept my social circle small, preferring to have limited, close friends rather than a large group of distant ones. That is something that stuck with me my entire life and will never change.

As I got older, people would ask me when I was going to get married and have kids. I never really wanted to get married, and I certainly didn’t want kids. In my mom’s family, this was the opposite of what most of my cousins wanted. My stance did not go over well with some of them as they passed judgement though the way they looked at me, as if I was some sort of odd creature. Even some friends I made in my twenties thought I would change my mind eventually, figuring that once I met the right guy it would all fall into place like some fairy tale. I always told them no, I will never change my mind and left it at that.

Through the years I have met a few women like myself. They too suffered the same attitudes and glances from family and friends whenever they would voice their desire to never have children. It just boggles the mind that one person could think they know better than what one wants for themselves. Never once did I ever consider questioning my friends and family who wanted kids. When my best friend said she really wanted a family, I never told her that wasn’t what she really wanted. I knew she did, and I was fine with that. Years later when she finally got what she wanted, it was clear how happy she was, and still is, and I extremely am happy for her. I even will hang out with her kids and bring them gifts because, like I said, I do like kids, but only in small doses. Her kids are cool, and, more important, they think I am cool, which means I get to be the fun one who doesn’t also have to pay for their college.

In my later thirties I decided it was finally time to settle down. I had most of my personal issues sorted out and wanted someone to do fun things with, like watch movies and play video games. I wanted someone like me. Truth be told, this decision was forced upon me when I stupidly fell for the wrong person, but it did give me a push in the right direction. I soon met a nice man and we married two years to the day of our first date. On one of our earlier dates, I asked him how he felt about children. He was unsure, so I made it clear that I didn’t want any. By then I was also fairly sure I could not have any due to some ongoing menstrual issues. We left it open, with emphasis on that we would not likely ever have children.

About a year and a half after we were married, I started having more pain than usual in my side. My family doctor thought I had endometriosis and later we discovered that I had a large polyp. They scheduled me for laparoscopic surgery to have the polyp removed and to check for endometriosis. This was when I had the real debate with my husband over children. He wanted to know if it was possible for me to conceive, and I wanted to have my tubes tied. I was 41 at the time and had already suffered through enough health issues, so I was afraid a pregnancy would finish me off. Plus, I didn’t want to raise a child or have to change my lifestyle to revolve around a child. I was quite angry with him after this discussion, but I promised him if he was not 100 percent sure, I would not have my tubes tied. My gut told me my reproductive parts were coming out anyway, so I figured why bother with the added surgery. My gut was right.

After the surgery, we learned that I didn’t have endometriosis. I had early signs of uterine cancer. I was given three options: monitor it, take medication, or have a hysterectomy. I immediately jumped at the option to have it all removed—I was sick of the pain, the bladder issues, and the unpredictable menstruation. My husband was not too thrilled with this, though having a healthy wife was obviously more important than having something you weren’t even sure you wanted. I explained to him that my job took up too much of my time and energy, so he would have had to raise a child mostly by himself. I pointed out that we wouldn’t be able to just randomly decide to go out to eat because we would need a babysitter and we wouldn’t really have money to waste on dining out. I explained that he wouldn’t be able to buy all the video games he wanted, that he wouldn’t be able to ignore a baby and just keep playing a game, that he wouldn’t even have a game room because that would have to become a bedroom. I reminded him that I did not want kids, and it would probably destroy our marriage because it would make me miserable. Most of all, I explained that we couldn’t have kids even if we wanted and that I was having surgery in less than two months to prevent the cancer from spreading. We learned after my hysterectomy that, even if we would have tried to conceive, it was not likely to ever happen. My reproductive parts had too many problems and likely never worked right, which was why I had so many menstrual issues. It was never meant to be.

I sometimes wonder if my dislike of babies was because of my infertility, or if my infertility was because of my dislike of babies. I like to think we have that much control over our bodies, even though it isn’t really possible. I know, realistically, that it was likely a genetic issue on my father’s side as my only blood related aunt also had to have a hysterectomy due to cancer. Now I have people telling me that we can always adopt, yet again ignoring the fact that not every woman is meant to be a mom. Adoption is expensive and extremely difficult. My husband and I had discussed the idea at one point, but neither of us ever had any intention of going any further with it than a discussion. Our house is not setup for children to live there and we do not want it to be—it is our geek space and where I run a business.

It really should not surprise any of us at the sheer number of people who think a woman’s life is incomplete without a child. Too many people fail to grasp the concept that not all women are mentally, emotionally, or physically equipped for children. I never understood women who take a big whiff of newborns—that smell actually makes me want to vomit. It always has and probably always will. I said for years that I already raised kids and that my middle brother was enough for an entire lifetime. It was never in my genetic make-up to want kids, no matter how many people pushed the issue. I am a pet person and an entrepreneur, not a mom. I am the fun aunt who helps with homework, buys a ton of Legos, and keeps cookies and ice cream on hand, and that’s what I would rather be.

So to all of the women out there who never want to have kids: you are not alone. There are more of us now than there ever were before. It’s okay if you someday change your mind, and it’s okay if you don’t. No one can make that decision for you—it will change your entire life. It isn’t the job of women to reproduce, and even if you do, there is nothing wrong with letting the father be the main caretaker if that is what he wants. Too many women judge other women based on fertility and parenthood. You can be a parent without having a baby, whether it’s helping to raise your siblings or helping a friend. One thing I cannot stress enough is that if you know what you want, discuss it with your partner early. It isn’t fair for two people to want the opposite in a relationship when it comes to children. This isn’t something like picking out curtains—it is a decision you have to live with for the rest of your life. And no, a woman is not likely to change her mind if she is adamant she does not want kids. It’s not some magic switch that just flips on when you fall in love. Some of us were just not meant to be mothers, and we are happy that way.