Back in 2003, I wrote an essay titled Are You Sure?

In this essay, I thoughtfully laid out the reasons why I never wanted to have children. I sent it to Jane and Glamour, and while neither magazine published my manifesto, I received personalized handwritten rejections from the editors who encouraged me to submit more work in the future. Writers know that this is a “good” rejection.

Then I got sidetracked with screenwriting, and yada yada yada, had a baby seven years later.

I was thinking about posting parts of the essay here, so we could share some laughs, but when I read it again it didn’t seem funny. It just reminded me of how it felt to be a non-mother in a world of mothers, particularly those who tried to coerce you over to “their side.”

I’m extremely happy that I decided to become a mother and that I get to share my life with my wonderful son. However, I completely understand why a woman would choose a different path, and I think it’s super important to respect those women. It’s also okay to be envious of them sometimes, as they hop on a flight with only one small carryon, on their way to an impromptu romantic getaway with their partner, relaxing in their window seat while they read a book then take a nap.

Rereading the essay also made me think about the women out there who aren’t mothers, but desperately want to be, and how hard it must be for them to live in a child-focused society. I am so lucky that when I decided I wanted to have a child at 39 that I was physically able to do so, and I am grateful for that every single day.

Things to keep in mind while reading: I wrote this eight years ago at age 33. I was married to a different man. I was not nearly as happy as I am today. Not even close. Also, I had a Palm Pilot.

 

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Are You Sure?

“So, when are you two going to have a baby?”

Every time I hear that question I cringe.

Why do most people assume that every woman will conceive a child and it’s just the “when” part that’s up in the air?

Expectations (pun intended) are changing a little, but women who choose to remain childless are still a minority in the United States. If you live in an urban area, you may get fewer strange looks when you announce your decision, but there are still those who don’t get it. Sometimes they actually shake their heads and look at you with pity.

Recently, I told one of my friends that my husband and I had decided on a vasectomy. This is something we’re both really happy about, perhaps similar to the feelings a couple have when they reach the decision to try to produce a baby. My friend’s reply was, “So, you’ve decided. Are you sure? Don’t you guys want to freeze some sperm in case you change your minds?”

So many things went through my mind.

First of all, my husband and I decided not to have children nearly a year ago. Did it take mentioning that he will soon undergo strategic surgical snipping to make our decision seem real?

When a woman says that she has decided to try to become pregnant, do you usually assume that she will change her mind about it until the split second of conception? No. You take her word for it and believe that she is actively trying to fulfill her desire of motherhood. It is more difficult for individuals and society to accept that a woman does not want children.

My second issue is with the question that usually follows when I say that I’m not having children.

“Are you sure?”

Again, it isn’t often that the response is “Are you sure?” when a woman announces that she plans to have a child, even though the question may actually be more appropriate at that time.

Are you sure that you want to take on a very involved, expensive responsibility for the rest of your life? Are you sure that you wouldn’t want to spend your limited time on this earth differently? Are you sure that you want to put your professional goals second to the nurturing of another person? Are you sure you have the drive and the patience to achieve everything that you want out of life? Have you really thought it through? Are you sure?

My third issue with the conversation was the idea of freezing sperm for future use. Do I ask future pregnant-women-to-be if they would like to have RU-486 around just in case they change their minds? And what about adoption? My husband and I discussed this option extensively while having our baby/no baby talks. We both felt very strongly that if we decided to be parents we would adopt. Why bring a new child into the world when so many are in need of loving homes and families?

In light of these points, no, I definitely don’t need a spermsicle.

I’ve encountered many questions on the road to my decision, usually the same ones repeatedly, from friends, family, and even from myself.

1. You don’t want to grow old without a family. You’ll be lonely if you don’t have babies. Don’t you want someone around to take care of you?

Social programs, retirement communities, and trained medical professionals are here for a reason. There are many services and organizations in place to care for the elderly, especially in large cities. Many of these organizations and communities host activities that allow senior citizens to spend a lot of time together. Besides, you can’t be sure that a son or daughter would care for you when you’re older. Children grow up and have lives of their own and, unfortunately, they do not always outlive their parents. Producing offspring does not guarantee a life without loneliness or built-in, long-term medical care.

2. Aww! Look at the baby! Isn’t she cute? Don’t you want one?

Babies are cute. No, I don’t want one. I like babies. I like to look at them, hold them, talk to them – and give them back to their mother, father, or legal guardian when I’m done. Babies are great, but they become teenagers.

3. What if you don’t have a baby and you regret it later?

What if I do have a baby and I regret it later? A child isn’t like a car you can sell or trade-in when you get tired of it, or a blouse you can return to the boutique if you decide it isn’t right for you after all. This was the part of the baby/no baby conversation between my husband and me that brought up the adoption issue. If aliens inhabit my body and insert some sort of device that makes me want to become a mother, we can always adopt a child later.

4. Christmas is so much more fun when you have kids. Don’t you ever wish that you had kids during the holidays?

If you could take the kids down from the attic before Christmas Eve and box them up again by New Year’s Day, sure. Occasionally I do experience a sense of nostalgia, sometimes accompanied by fleeting baby desire, during the holidays – particularly at holiday parades when I see a cute little girl perched on her father’s wide shoulders. Sometimes I think it would be fun to play Santa for a small child and see the expression on his or her tiny face. When I shared these feelings with a friend of mine, he encouraged me to write the following entry into my Palm Pilot on an early Saturday in December – “Visit a Toys-R-Us.” Words to live by.

5. “I just don’t think a person can be complete without having a child.”

This is probably the worst pro-parenting statement I’ve encountered. When I heard it, I was stunned into silence. I could not believe that something so archaic would come from the lips of a person I considered enlightened and educated. Does this mean that women who are physically unable to conceive are incomplete? Give me a break. There are many different ways to live your life and a variety of paths to follow. Just because a woman does not bear a child (either intentionally or due to physical limitations) does not make her life any less meaningful or important. A child does not “complete” a woman. A woman is “complete” on her own.

If it weren’t for mothers, none of us would be here today. I respect and accept a woman’s right to choose motherhood and also expect the same respect and acceptance for my decision. Despite what some may think, a woman is no less a woman if she does not bear a child. We are strong, independent beings that can decide what is best for us and act accordingly. We have the freedom to choose a life plan that fits best with our goals. Women who choose not to have children are not selfish; if anything, we may be more thoughtful. We did not arrive at this decision without meticulously weighing the consequences. We gave this issue more consideration than many parents ever did. Whatever our choice, it is fine and beautiful.

At the end of the conversation with my friend, I assured her that “yes” we’ve really made our decision, “yes” we’re sure, and “no” we don’t want to freeze sperm. As she listened, I felt that my choice had finally been recognized and accepted as true. I was relieved that since she knew about the planned vasectomy, I wouldn’t have to go through the baby questions again. She was taking me seriously. My friend was quiet for a few seconds after I finished speaking.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “they can always reverse it.”