And She's a Good One!

I propose that Band-Aids be no longer made ouchless or with cute cartoon characters on them. I have given my niece at least a dozen band-aids for non-existent ouches and injuries. I hated band-aids as a child because they hurt when you removed them -- A LOT. Today's band-aids fall off by themselves -- it's ridiculous. So when she just asked me (as an excuse for being out of bed after bedtime) for a band-aid, I was half-tempted to give her a grown-up band-aid, designed to stick until removal, and then they take a chunk of your arm hair and a layer of skin with them. But I didn't, because I am kind, and although I was annoyed and at my wits end after a long day, I love her and would never intentionally cause her pain, I dug around for a crappy Star Wars band-aid that will likely fall off before the end of the night.

Yes we have Star Wars band-aids. Shut up.

It has been an incredibly long day. On the way home on the El from the city this afternoon, I asked A why it felt like Sunday -- because, seriously, this day feels like it has been two.


Like any day I've spent with kids, it started out fine. She's a picky eater, but she ate a Kashi granola bar and was fine with the pancakes we made for breakfast. She was initially annoyed that I couldn't play with her and had to clean the house, but after she kept bothering me I turned it into a game and let her help, which worked out really well. She's actually a very good helper.

Lunch went well, and then it was off to the city to the Hershey Store, her destination of choice. It was, in a word, anticlimactic, but we made it fun. She bought presents for grandma and daddy, and we bought her a sweatshirt because she didn't bring the warm clothes I asked her to bring (I should have double-checked, my bad). She got grumpy, though, and didn't even want to go to American Girl Place because we wouldn't be buying her a doll, so we went immediately home. SOOOOO glad we didn't drive and pay for parking, because the initial plan was to stay and go out to dinner on Michigan Ave.

When we're in the house, she does not stop talking, and I've noticed she's very resistant to getting things for herself. Maybe it's because she's here, but she doesn't understand that sometimes people just won't be able to help her do a task that she's perfectly capable of. I think it's because my mom babies her so much. She also interrupts conversations when she's not the center of attention and can't seem to handle that one bit. This drives Uncle A a little crazy, which is understandable. "Look what I can do!" "Wanna see something cool?" It's incessant and while adorable at first, the things she considers impressive, but near the end of the day it gets really hard to inject enthusiasm in your "wows" and "that's cools". She also tells a LOT of little white lies, and gets mad when I don't humor her like my mom does. She has to learn that even little white lies aren't funny or cute -- lying isn't right.

Overall, though, she is a really good kid, and I love her to pieces. We didn't have her special toothpaste here, but instead of crying, refusing to brush her teeth, or doing a half-ass job, she fought through the minty-ness and did a nice thorough brushing of her teeth. I told her I was proud of her because I was -- most kids wouldn't have been so brave, and she DID hate that toothpaste. She was great on the train, she didn't fight when we said to hold hands, and while she got defiant a couple of times about dressing warm enough and having to wear her jacket over her pretty new hoodie, she's not a tantrum sort of girl. We're lucky for that, even if she is super picky about her food, doesn't like having to get her own Kleenex or come back into the room to pick up her own clothes. And she's adorable -- really a gorgeous kid, and again, so well-behaved. I was proud to walk around with her with everyone around assuming she was my daughter.

But after a day with an easy kid, I'm still so thankful for a little grown-up time at the end of the day with the guarantees of no interruptions. From after dinner to the first bit after putting her to bed, A and I were frustrated, exhausted, and very testy, with her and eachother. She went off with a hug and an "I love you", but A and I needed some solo time (hence the entry), which makes me kind of sad. I don't like this depressurization period, but I know we need it. With work, the drive home, or the cooking dinner is depressurization. She's like having a job that doesn't end until she goes to bed. And now I want to watch television with too much sex and poor morals, I want to stop talking in my over-enthusiastic kid voice and maybe swear a little (A says "fuckin-A!"). I want to snuggle my husband and not be concerned that we're ignoring her. Just the two of us. In silence. Sweet silence.

Day 3 with a 7-year-old

1. Disney Radio is getting old.
2. But not as old as the Disney Channel. And what's up with all the sexual innuendo in The Suite Life with Cody and Whatshisface?!? I'm sure the kids don't know why what they're saying is a joke, but DAMN.
3. The Game of Life is much more fun when you're playing by real rules. I can't decide if I should call her on her cheating ("no really, I spun 10 and not 1") or just let her have her fun. The game is dragging on and I'm very glad bedtime is fast approaching. (She's on the phone with Daddy now)
---she's finally asleep---
4. It is amazing the value kids put on staying up "late". It doesn't matter even a little what they're doing -- it only matters that they're up past their bedtime. Even 5 minutes is enough. Also amazing are the excuses for not going to bed.
5. My brother is *finally* getting a headache today (if he didn't get one by tomorrow the surgery is off). They're hoping it gets worse, so he's staring at lights and turning the TV on too loud in the hotel room. Looks like their trip to the mall today did the trick. It's so weird to hear my mom squeal with glee "maybe it'll get worse!!"
6. So what to do for the rest of the night? Clean up the mess we made, of course. We baked a cake (mmm, chocolate frosting with NERDS in it... kids are weird.) We already cleaned up Life and tidied up her room (she got to stay up 15 extra minutes for helping me with laundry and tidying her room), but there are still some stray groceries to be put away, and the dishes need doing.
7. Thank goodness she is such a well-behaved kid. It was amazing to see the contrast between her and most (I really want to say all, but it's very possible the well-behaved ones slipped past unnoticed) of the kids in the store. "Can I have that?" So I make her choose between pop-tarts and granola bars, which she does without argument. All the while another kid her age (possibly older) is having a fit because he can't have the Cap'n Crunch. She bought her gumball with a quarter and proceeded to drop it right out of her mouth, and I didn't get her another one. She pouted a bit but got over it quickly, all the while other kids are being dragged behind their parents screaming "I want a quarter!" She's really a very good kid and making this very easy on me.
8. And while I'm enjoying this time with her, loving that we're bonding and having a blast, I still don't want one even a little.

It's hard enough to take a GOOD kid to the grocery store, but kids have to tag along to the grocery store even when they're crabby. She certainly gets crabby and doesn't win Kid of the Year 24/7. Today was just a *really* good day. I can deal with the good days, but even those require constant vigilance, seeing what she's up to, whether she finished her food, making sure she doesn't stick her hand in the Kitchen Aid trying to snatch some cake batter. It's the constancy I object to. Yes I have a bit of time to myself now, but it's going to be spent keeping the house in order, just to have a tornado blow through tomorrow. Some women find this life wonderful, fulfilling, and bless you all because the world needs you. But while I am so proud of her and I'm filled with pride that she's such a wonderful kid who is so smart and great and she respects me so much, this ain't the life for me. We didn't hesitate to say "yes" when she was left to us in the wills of my mother and brother, and we raise her in a second if it came down to it, but this isn't the life we want for ourselves if we can help it (hence A's forthcoming snip-snip, for which he volunteered awhile back and I refused to let him do until I recently agreed we're ready to make the call).

At Amy's shower yesterday I told her that she really cleaned up. "If you choose to do this," she said, "you'll get to enjoy all this too!" I smiled and said nothing, impressed that she realized this was a choice. Sister-in-law Joy piped in "of COURSE she has to do this! It's so rewarding/fulfilling/enriching/etc." This went on for a while, the other mothers (nearly all the women in the room) chiming in, and I just said nothing. I think Joy eventually got the hint through my silence (it wasn't my place to "come out" at Amy's shower), which either means in the future the subject will be dropped or pressed even harder. I KNOW it's all those things to the women who choose kids. I don't question that even a little, but I will ALWAYS resent the insinuation (which Joy made, quite literally) that my life and marriage can't be complete without kids. If I have no desire to have and live with a child forever, how could motherhood (a word that makes me actually cringe when I consider it for myself) make me complete? How is that a risk we could even consider taking, that we might resent the child, which is the only emotion we can see feeling toward something that would require 90% of our energy every single day? I'm learning, as I try to fit this well-behaved, well-mannered, helpful 7-year-old into my life for just three weeks that this sort of life is so not for me. I'm not built that way, many women are. We're different and really, that's ok.

The day A and I have the desire to live with a child, we'll set about acquiring one. But until that desire is whole and complete, no babies here. I don't see that day coming anywhere in our future. We've talked about it extensively, exhaustively, and we always come to the same conclusion: We like being grown-ups too much.

Trial Run

It appears that starting next Wednesday, I'm going to be spending the following three weeks not "helping" take care of my niece, but living there and basically playing mommy for three weeks. And while I adore my niece and I agreed to do this because it's important for her and my family, I'm furious.

It was sold to me like this: while my mom and brother are in New Jersey for him to have surgery, my grandma and I will tagteam it and they'll just need me to "help out". Of course I said "sure!" This is a big deal that could mean a life change for my brother, which changes my niece's life and my mother's. How great is that? Well, we met with my grandma, and apparently she's the one who's going to be "helping out".

I realized as we sat at the table with my grandma how disinterested she was in doing this. I brought up a couple events that I am not willing to reschedule (A's stepsister's baby shower, the Depeche Mode concert, and Stromkern in Milwaukee), which, after some convincing, she agreed to. My dad is completely unwilling to help with ANYTHING, and the TWO days where he has to pick her up from school are a travesty, apparently. Even as we went round and round, my aunt Karen never offered her babysitting services once.

So here it is. I have to give up my life for three weeks because, as expected, no one is willing to help. Instead of spending 2-3 nights a week in Kenosha, with someone else picking up the rest, I'm spending 7 days a week in Kenosha, and if I want to see A he has to come and stay the night with me, leaving him with a nearly 2-hour commute in the morning. Oh, wait, we have one weekend in Chicago -- with my niece. I have to spend three weeks away from my husband, friends and home. When i need to go into a gig I'll be spending 4-5 hours in transit each day, with my grandmother reluctantly picking her up from school on those days.

I didn't have a problem agreeing to a couple days a week, but 24/7 is a bit much. It isn't even so much that I AM staying 24/7, but that I feel tricked. Tricked or betrayed. I told my mom initially that I can take her during the week OR for a weekend, and here I am now doing both. Three weeks is a LOT of time, and it's a long time to spend away from my home and my husband. Oh, he can stay in Kenosha! Yeah, so we can spend some quality time with my DAD. Because he's already made it clear that if he's going to spend any time with her one-on-one, it won't be without whining and a fight, and that's even if all he has to do is exist in the house while she's asleep. Plus, with all this, I'm going to be babysitting my dad too. I just hope and PRAY he doesn't think he can come home and work from home all day when I'm trying to work.

I'm lucky right now that I'm on this gig where I only have to go into the office one day a week (that was fun to negotiate with grandma *sigh*) andI can work from home. AND, it's on a PC, so I can install the software on my dad's computer. But as soon as she comes home from school she's going to be fighting for my attention, which means I'll have to do the rest of my work after her bedtime. She requires a lot of attention anyway, and she's surely going to be feeling really needy with her daddy and grandma away for three weeks. This is going to be really rough on her, without a doubt. She already thinks that "maybe we can go see daddy" sometime during the three weeks.

I know she needs me to do this, and that's why I'm doing it -- it's worth it for her. I just need to figure out how to do it without resenting the process. Without being angry with my mom for taking me away from my husband, my house, my life. I have the utmost respect for moms -- I'm struggling like hell to figure out how to work a fairly self-sufficient, well-behaved 7-year-old into my life for only three weeks, wondering how I'm going to manage getting up at 6:00 to get her ready for school at 7, being able to pick her up and entertain her for the afternoon, make dinner for her, then work late to make up for the time. Even if A was around, how would we have time for each other? If I'm waking up at 6 am, I won't be getting enough sleep unless I go to bed at 9, 10. If she goes to bed at 8:30 or 9, where is there time for relationships? If I didn't understand before how moms and parents survive children, I really don't understand now. It seems just impossible.

I've known for awhile that children can't fit into my lifestyle and that the sacrifices of having kids aren't enough return on investment. As I consider how this three week period -- ONLY THREE WEEKS -- will affect my life and relationship, I'm miserable. We wanted to see Spamalot while it's in town, but now we'll probably miss it because its sold out for the final weekend, the only weekend we'd be able to go now because I'll have her. I won't get to spend any time with friends, and forget about gaming Saturdays, dinner-and-a-movie Thursdays, date nights.

I understand that the sacrifices are worth it when you see your children, and that you love them completely. I don't question that at all. It's just one of those things… I can't remember where I heard the analogy, but it's true. I look at it and I think "I can't imagine it being worth it". A child is not like a pint of ice cream you can toss out or pass on to someone else if you don't like the flavor. Is it really worth trying and seeing if it really is different with my own kids? I love her as much as if she were my own. After this little 3-week experiment, my guess is the answer will be a resounding NOOOOOOO!!

Kids These Days (What's grosser than a squidmonster?)

EEEEW EEEW EEEEEWWWWWW!

Okay, if there's one thing that scares me more than babies and toddlers, it's teenagers. There's a movie theater in town that we positively avoid at all costs because it's, well, pretty ghetto. (That's not a race thing, it's a reality thing). Full of teenagers of every hue talking during the movie, chatting on their cell phones, and having just a blatant disrespect of everyone esle there who paid for the movie not just to get out of their parents' house, but to see the damn movie.

My husband and I decided late last night that we needed a break. After reading some great reviews about Slither (and being huge Nathan Fillion fans because of Firefly and Serenity), we decided to catch the late show. We figured the place would be empty, so this theater was a viable option. (BTW, if you don't read further, go see this film. It's like Shaun of the Dead but American…it was great)

Sure enough, there were only four other couples in the theater. A couple in each corner and the back row, and one a couple rows behind us in the center. It became pretty clear that the last couple was the only one there to see the film.

Now, I'll admit, I hate talking in the theater and I can be kind of a bitch about it. A whispered comment here and there is acceptable, a full-blown, full-volume conversation is not. Talking on your cellphone? DEFINITELY unacceptable. So I pointed out to A about halfway through the movie that even with only a couple kids in the place, there was still someone on his cell phone. He was my hero, and went to politely tell the girl to please keep it down. Scared her pretty bad, too, which is funny because he was sweet as pie. But that ended that.

Another couple left about a half hour before the movie was over, but at the end of the show, I had a good hypothesis why. As the house lights went up, I glanced around -- and caught a couple of teegagers ZIPPING UP!! Pulling their pants up and zipping up. They couldn't have been more than 16. A light bulb went off in my head… THAT's why the kids were tucked in the corners. Oh eeew eeew eeeew!! They probably bought tickets to Slither because it's not very popular (seriously, see it) and hey anticipated an empty theater.

I would absolutely slaughter my teenager if I heard about them doing that! Making out is one thing, but these kids, IMHO and I'm no prude, were far too young to be doing the nasty in the back of the damn theater (nevermind that it's no place for that ANYWAY, especially when, as they were leaving, they got into a giant SUV which probably would've been more comfy… I'm just sayin'…)

But how can it be stopped? This is no world I want to be raising a child in. I see my niece and I am just terrified for her. Her friends who are in public school are already dressing like little sluts (no thanks to Bratz and the like) and speaking with potty mouths. I can sort of appreciate why homeschooling is a trend, but I don't think that's a solution either. This world is so sexually charged it makes ME uncomfortable sometimes. Sure, we had 90210, but I guarantee shows like One Tree Hill and The OC make promiscuity and drug use seem a lot more acceptable (and fun!). I can't think of anything but 90210 that was geared toward kids and featured sex a lot. I think back to 21 Jump Street and other favorite shows and remember all the morals -- don't do drugs, don't have sex 'til you're in love, etc. There were exceptions, but now the smut is the rule, and that makes me scared.

Nevermind that 30% of teens won't make it out of high school -- that's a whole other issue for another day.

It just pisses me off is all. I want to be able to go to a movie without teenagers being disrespectful and definitely without teenagers getting it on in the back row. I don't want to watch my niece grow up and start having sex at 14, 15, getting knocked up or something. I want to protect her from this world. She's ok for now -- she's a bookworm and doesn't watch anything but kids' tv. But she's 7. It won't be long before the girls around her start growing up too fast and she feels the pressure that I know I did to be popular and do what all the other girls are doing. I don't want to hear about my niece going down on boys in the bathroom at 12, 13, because that's what the cool girls do. I want her to have her innocent crushes and be a kid 'til she's at least 17, 18, and even then I want her to know how NOT to end up like her mother, strung out on drugs and abandoning her children.

I think it's important that in the next couple years we talk to her about the path her mother went down and how crucial it is that she not go down that path. My brother would tell me never to do that, to shield her from that, but when she grows up a little more, I think we're going to have a talk, Daddy be damned. She needs to know so the cycle doesn't continue.

Friendship and Fear

It's ridiculous how I censor myself to avoid hurting feelings.

Several years ago, there was a huge argument brought among friends (which extended to me) when my friend joined the Childfree Community on LiveJournal. My best friend insisted that it was the equivalent of joining a hate group. She honestly believed (or believes -- I've been too timid to ask if she still feels this way) that a childfree community was akin to the KKK or something.

I can appreciate this to a point. A lot of childfree people use terrible words when describing terrible parents or misbehaving children, and my best friend knows that I find this unacceptable. That said, I still crave the camraderie of likeminded folks who don't care to have children around them on a daily basis.

Yes many of us have a low tolerance for misbehavior and a high value for our personal space. We voice our frustration and vent, and we don't want to hear how "it's different when they're yours". We just don't.

So here I am, contemplating joining such a community again, and I quickly chickened out. I feel like I would die if she found out about this blog, not that it's private or anything. There is a fundamental difference between us now, and I understand that. But she's got to realize that as much as she enjoys talking to other parents, I enjoy talking to other childfree folks.

And, here comes the age-old argument… it's different when it's kids I care about. It's true! I love her boys, I love my niece, disclaimer disclaimer another effing disclaimer.

I hate that I have to be so afraid of my friends. Christ, it's just Livejournal, it's just an effing blog, yet I'm so afraid to talk about it I have a special "Childfree" filter on my LJ and I keep this and my CafePress store a secret. I'm proud of my decision to have no children, yet still when I tell my best friend about my IUD she says "that's good, then if you change your mind…" or when I talk about my career move she says "then if you have kids you can stay home".

If I called her today in tears and told her I was pregnant, she'd squeal with glee and shout congratulations all over the place. She doesn't get it.

I understand why she doesn't get it -- she can't imagine not being a mom, and that's okay. I don't say anything when she makes comments about "if" we have kids (at least it's not "when") because I understand it's her nature now. But I make room in my life for her, and I feel like I've been very accommodating. I keep the childfree commentary out of her face, and I genuinely adore her children. She's so sensitive and I'm so terrified of hurting her feelings, though. I just want confirmation that she gets it, and that it really isn't personal. Because noisy children in a restaurant make me angry, unattentive parents with squealing babies irritate me, and I'm just plain not fond of the babies of strangers, that doesn't mean I'm a bad person and it bears no reflection on the people I care about.

I just wish I could stop being afraid and just start being myself again.

Regrets

There's a woman in the "Starting Over" house who lists one of her reasons for being in the house as "dealing with not having children." I look at women like that and can't help but wonder, even a little, if that could be me in 20 years. I look at my situation, my marriage, and it would be ridiculous to not wonder. It's human.

When I look at my friends with children, I think they're lucky that their families are as stable as they are. However, something undeniable has happened to their relationships: They are no longer a couple -- they are parents. I watch them give up time with each other (when it's often so needed) because they feel guilty leaving their children with family or a sitter. They sacrifice vacation time to nurse sick children. Romantic getaways? Not a chance. Maybe when they get a hotel room at their vacation site they'll get a suite so they're not sharing a room with the kids. But the destination is still largely determined by its kid-friendliness.

Would we ever be able to take our dream trip to Egypt with kids? Not for many, many years if we wanted him/her/them to appreciate it, and even then it would likely be far too expensive to travel. Traveling to Greece, China, returning to Spain -- never.

But it's not just about traveling. It's about living. We love our life together. I don't think of us lacking anything now, and I can see our closeness and intimacy suffering if kids were in the mix. Do I see us questioning this in the future? Honestly? Not really. If we run out of things to talk about, things to do together, then the last thing we want to do is bring children into that. I love my husband, and I want us to have the fullest life possible. Children would be a hindrance to that dream.

Filling In

In a couple weeks my mother and my brother, who are both raising my 7-year-old niece, will be traveling to New Jersey for my brother to have a headache surgery that could change his life. The surgery and the recovery will take three weeks. My niece C is nearing the end of her first grade year, and three weeks is a long time time be out of school, so my mother begged me for a favor.

We don't live in the same city as my parents; we live in Chicago, my folks are about an hour away. The problem? They need someone to be at their house and get C ready for school in the morning, and someone to stay with her at night. My dad can probably handle the nights, but because he's just starting a new job with a long commute, he isn't able to take C to school.

It boggles my mind how difficult it is fitting a 7-year-old into my life for three weeks. It would be easier if we were in the same city, but even then it would be very disruptive. As it stands, my mother expects me to stay at their house several nights a week -- my grandmother will handle the rest -- which means I won't be seeing my husband at all. PLUS, we've been asked to take her for the entire weekends that my mom and brother are gone.

This is a child that will be gone at school and after-school care all day. I only have to make her breakfast in the morning and help her get dressed, then possibly make her dinner and entertain her for a couple evenings. And a weekend shouldn't be that big of a deal, right?

I love and adore my niece, I cannot say that enough, and she's a great kid. But oh my god do I resent that we're going to have to spend the entire weekends entertaining her. Sure she'll stay at our house, but what about spending time with our friends? I might try and plan a girlie afternoon with my girlfirneds, but out normal routine will be smashed and destroyed, and I'm not entirely ok with it. I can't help it. I want my weekend with my husband and our friends. I realize as I try figuring out how to fit my niece into the way I enjoy my life, that having to do this full-time is not the life I want.

I'm happy to fill in because my mom never gets a break, and I truly believe this surgery has the potential to change my brother's life. It's incredibly important, so I'm willing to help out. I'm going to get irritated, and it's probably going to drive me a little nuts. This is an important thing for me to do, and I'm not going into it entirely negatively. I have a feeling that this is going to be a crucial lesson and affirming my life choice.

Reasons Why

I recently quit my full-time, well-paying job in pursuit of my dream to own my own visual communications firm. It's slow going so far, but I've barely gotten my feet wet.

I've been telling people that there will never be a better time for me to try this. We're financially secure thanks to money from the wedding, we have very cheap rent on a home we adore, and I've got enough experience to know I'll be employable should this situation not work out. It's great. But everyone, and I mean everyone, assumes that when I say that I mean that I want to try this before we have kids.

And so many people are telling me that they wish they could take this risk. But they can't. They have responsibilities. They have children.

My question is this -- if i'm putting so much into this right now, how would it make sense to have children and hope to maintain my career? This is going to take constant effort. It's not the sort of thing I would be able to manage part-time, even if I do get to the point where I'll have a staff of some sort. If I want to live the life I want, there's no room for children.

I know there are plenty of women out there who manage careers and children, but I don't want their life. I don't smoke because I can't stand the idea of my life revolving around something. I know it's not the same, but… I don't know. Everyone just assumes that I'm getting this out of my system, or that I'm doing this because I want to be a stay-at-home mom or something. It's so not. This is my dream. It's a dream, and it doesn't leave room for having children. And that's ok.

I just think it's interesting that so many people really do think that kids will be the next step in my life. And it's interesting that it doesn't seem like it will ever be an option. And again, that's ok. It's what I want.

Why Don't You Just Tell Everyone?

Wouldn't a lot of this just go away if we had the balls to tell our in-laws that the baby's not coming?

It's complicated, but there's one big motivator. I don't feel selfish about our choice to remain childfree, but I feel guilty about our motivator to keep quiet: It's the inheritance.

The inheritance, a sizeable one, will be from his grandmother. In addition to ownership of her condo, we are also set to receive her entire estate -- everything. Her lone son is already wealthy and she has told us that we will be getting this inheritance. She's quite frank about it. She's in good health and thank goodness we don't expect her to go anywhere anytime soon. She tells us repeatedly that this money will be for "our family", so we can raise "our family" in a nice house with a yard and blah blah blah.

We've talked extensively about his family and we have a big suspicion that his family, especially his grandmother, won't speak to us again if we explain our conviction against having children. It's not telling them, it's getting them to believe us. If we just tell them we're not having kids, that's not a big deal -- they'll just insist that I'll change my mind. If we tell them that A's getting a vasectomy, if we convince them that we're really serious, it will get ugly. His relationship with his dad is already strained, and my husband has lived his life as a disappointment. His father has always made sure A knows how disappointing his life has been -- A can never live up to his expectations. My FiL is very enthusiastic when he talks about "our kids", and how excited he is for us to start a family. Kiss that relationship goodbye once we do anything permanent.

His grandmother is the same way. Why doesn't A get a "better" job, why doesn't he do "this" with his life, or "that". Nothing is ever good enough, but again when there's talk about "our family", she's wonderful.

We truly believe that telling them we're not having kids will mean being cut off from his family, and cut out of the inheritance. Call it what you will, it is what it is. It's a chance for us to have a better life, and his grandmother wants us to have it. But she also wants so desperately for us to have children. Because of his sister-in-law's and his aunt's infertility issues, lying about this, saying we're trying when we're not, is not something I'm willing to do. It's disrespectful of their situations. A is convinced we'll be cut off completely, personally and financially, and having seen the situation, I don't think it's irrational. His family are the ones who are irrational.

So we don't tell. Selfish, absolutely. But y'know what, she'll be happier this way. And if she's around long enough that it does become an issue, we'll talk. But for now, it's too early to sever those ties. It might not be that bad, but we love that woman. Breaking her heart is not a happy option anyway; the potential to lose his inheritance is additional motivation.

Great Expectations

My husband is an idiot. I put my two-weeks notice in at work so I can start working from home and freelancing full-time, and I'm so excited about this opportunity. We had plans to see his entire family over the weekend. Somewhere in the planning process for this weekend, he spoke with my father-in-law. I did not know this.

A dropped me at the museum doors with his grandmother, and we met the rest of the family inside. His father beamed at me, and assaulted me with a bear hug as he usually does (he's a passionate man, to say the least), but something was different. There was something different about the way everyone looked at me, I see in hindsight. Everyone was glowing, mostly because of his sister-in-law M's pregnant belly, which I wanted no part of, quite frankly. But I asked my father-in-law if A had shared the news with him. Immediately he began gathering the rest of the family. My mother-in-law first asked if I wanted to wait for A to arrive from parking the car, and after I said no, she encouraged everyone to come close. It all makes so much sense now, but then I just blurted out "I quit my job, and I'm starting my own business!" and watched my in-laws deflate. With forced, confused smiles, I was congratulated, and some people asked questions, but I felt like it was a disappointment. Then I found out why.

Apparently A told them I had some "big news" to share at the museum. *hand to forehead* Who doesn't know that you don't tell parents that there's "big news" unless it involves an engagement (check) or friggin' pregnancy??!?? They all thought I was pregnant and apparently had shared this with each other. I felt uncomfortable the rest of the day.

I'm fairly sure my mom thought I was pregnant until yesterday, too. Because of the IUD, I've had quite a few doctor's appointments recently. This had her worried anyway, and then when I quit my job, I think she took that as confirmation of her presumption. I met with her yesterday for lunch (because I had a doc's appointment in the afternoon) and she was worried again, begging me to tell her what was up. She knows we don't plan to have kids and doesn't pressure me, but when I told her about the IUD, there was the same deflated look -- not elation that I wasn't sick, as she seemed to think I was.

It's not so much my mom I'm worried about -- she knows what's up, and she knows she's just speculating. But it's gotten to the point where we're VERY careful about what we say to my in-laws. Anything that could be interpreted as news about pregnancy will be latched onto like crazy, I can see it. It's really quite pathetic.

Sweet Freedom

I got an IUD, and it's the best thing I've ever done.

There is a lot of talk about the potential problems, but it was so easy! The first couple days were painful, but since then, it's been wonderful. And the beautiful thing is… no worries.

It is amazing the change in me now that there's no paranoia. No worries until 2011! It boggles my mind. Even when I was on depo, there was a paranoia there, especially because I'd sometimes lose track of when I was due for a shot. I would get so concerned about the potential for pregnancy that ir was affecting our sex life… I feel so content knowing that I don't have to worry about that anymore. There is nothing at all that scares me more than getting pregnant.

I've had pregnancy scares in the past, and it's been a difficult thing to bring up to some friends. I even had one friend, when I called her in relief when I finally took a test and wasn't pregnant, say "don't worry, it'll happen when the time is right." I wasn't upset! I was elated! There have been countless times where I've been one day from buying a pregnancy test before I finally got my period.

To think that I'm free from worries for the next five years… it doesn't get better than that.

A Thankless Job

On Sunday my mom came by to give us some redecorating advice. We went furniture shopping and discount-department-store shopping to Marshalls, HomeGoods, Value City, etc. and finally picked a bit of a design theme. We bought a few choice items, which A surprised me by arranging after we dropped him off. It was a great time that was nearly ruined by a nasty phone call from my aunt (my niece's babysitter) to my mom.

My aunt decided she wanted to go out to dinner and my mom was running late, so she FLIPPED OUT and yelled at my mom. My mother had told my aunt that she was leaving Chicago at 4:30, which meant she would be back to pick her up around 5:45. We got four or five phone calls IN A ROW from my aunt, and when I picked up, she was livid. She apparently expected my mom to be back there at 4:30, and now it was 5:15 and she was just leaving. Then she created this whole story about how it was illegal to travel with my 7-year-old niece without a carseat, so they couldn't possibly bring her along with them to go out to dinner. It was bullshit.

She NEVER gets a break. My mom watches my cousin Breanna all the time, even when she doesn't have time. They take her to dinner and cater to her ridiculously infurtiating pickiness. No one ever does Mom a favor without making her feel really guilty on purpose, and it makes me mad. EVERY time my mom comes over there's some sort of drama at home that makes her have to leave nearly in tears (or, like last night, actually in tears). It kills me how everyone treats her. No one respects her, appreciates what she does, offers her help. She has to beg for anyone to help her out with C, and god forbid she WANTS to do something, like come down and spend the day with us. It inevitably causes chaos to the point where I'm hesitant to invite her down. She either has to drag C along where she doesn't want to go (nevermind that C always gets VERY carsick on the drive down to Chicago) and where she's in the way, or she gets a guilt trip about leaving her with someone, even my brother. It's so unfair.

I love when C comes to visit, and there's a time and place for that, but it just doesn't work for a long day of shopping or hanging artwork on the walls. I want more than anything for my mom to just get a break for once.

Common Ground, Quality Time

Saturday was my niece's birthday party, and it was AWFUL, as much as I hate to say. It was poor planning on the part of my mom to have all her adult family at the same party as her 1st-grade girlfriends at a local kiddie-pool. We were all sort of trapped in a small room while the kids played in the pool. There weren't lounging spaces in the pool area -- either you were in the pool or you weren't. The pool was shallow and full of jungle-gym style toys, so it wasn't very welcoming for grown-ups who weren't directly chaperoning a small child. But we tried to make the best of it.

A and I tried to make smalltalk with some of the parents who stayed. No one seemed interested in making smalltalk unless it was about the school lunches at Holy Rosary -- and I'm not exaggerating. One woman even relocated to the other side of the room in a "stop talking to me" gesture. We were trying so, so hard to communicate with people, but, quite literally, unless it was talk about children, they didn't have anything to say. It was as if they couldn't separate themselves from being parents -- even when their children weren't in the room -- for even a moment. The couples especially confounded me. Your child is having well-supervised fun for nearly four hours -- take this time to go on a quick date, enjoy each other, be a couple! Instead they sat grumpily in the little room, talking to no one in the room and especially not each other. It was tragic.

It was also strangely awkward with my grandmother, her husband, and my aunt. No one seemed to know what to talk about, probably because of all the silent strangers. We talked a little bit about my cousins' upcoming weddings, but that was it. Awkward silence wth bursts of a minute or two of conversation. When the girls came back in, A and I served the hotdogs and soda. The girls were great, except for my niece's friend Elle, the troublemaker, but it didn't seem the girls liked her very much so no one really followed her chaotic evil lead. Elle is a glimpse into what C could have been if she'd been raised by her mom instead of my mom (her grandma), and it's terrifying. If Elle wasn't the granddaughter of my parents' neighbor-friends and living with them, I doubt she'd be allowed to hang around with C. But all the kids had a great time.

The problem with the birthday party was a selfish one -- I wanted some quality time with her, even a little. We'd hoped to get to my parents house and give her the gift before we left, but she was gone when we got there. Instead we were unnecessary chaperones in a crowded room, didn't get to spend ANY time with C. The parties in the past have been okay because when they were rollerskating we could rollerskate too. Bowling, same thing. Chuck E Cheese, same thing. We got to have fun, too. It was an afternoon COMPLETELY devoid of fun, and that sucked. Next year, unless it's something we can actively participate in, we're just going to their house on Sunday and giving her a present then.

Questioning

• Why is it wrong that I feel the need identify myself as "childfree" instead of just saying "I
don't have kids"?
• Is it wrong that the topic comes up constantly among my childfree friends?
• Is the fact that we seek out similar individuals and couples indicative of a larger problem?
• What about the fact that it colours our experiences in public places?
• Are we really just kidding ourselves?

I had it implied to me today that the fact that I am proud to be childfree and it's a major topic of conversation within my marriage and my friendships, that it's indicative of some bigger issue, likely that I really do want kids and I'm trying to talk myself out of it.

Yes, I'm probably reading into it, but I don't think I'm wrong.

Yet instead of saying "f*** you", as I was initially inclined, I decided to think about it.
And y'know what?
A couple hours later, all I want to do is say "f*** you."

Yes, we talk about it a lot. It's a big part of our lifestyle, and it's on the forefront a lot of the time. I don't think it's an issue of overcompensation. I don't think people with kids understand the pressure we're under, both direct and indirect. We talk about it a lot because it's on our minds a lot.

Is there really something wrong with that?

A Simple Experiment

I included, buried in a post in my LiveJournal, my first child/parent frustration comments, and for the first time in months I chose not to use my "Childfree" friends filter to see if it was safe, if maybe I was blowing things out of proportion about not being able to discuss things in my journal.

The experiment worked.

The filter is activated again.

I got chewed out by a parent friend of mind who angrily explained why strollers are necessary (I know this) and that I'm the adult, I should have just waited for the kid to play with the sink's motion sensors while a line formed behind me instead of politely asking him to "excuse me!" Nevermind that my issue wasn't with the strollers themselves, or with kids washing their hands in general, and I never said that children should never be taken out of the house, etcetera etcetera etcetera. No no no, nothing like this. Yes, there was emotion, frustration, in the post, but it was situational, and I never made a blanket statement about children not going out in public. Not even close!!

I give up.

I really didn't want to be right.

Experiencing, not Chaperoning

My husband took me to the Shedd Aquarium on Saturday. He brought up the idea of going museuming on our Saturday "off" (a diversion from our usual weekend fare) and because I haven't been to the Shedd since I was a child, we agreed to go there and I was so very excited.

It was, of course, beautiful. The ratio of behaving children to misbehaving, annoying ones was about 10:1, which is really good for a crowded place. I could not believe the number of infants, though. One woman carried a baby who couldn't have been more than three weeks old, and I'm probably being generous. Seems like a place filled with people in the middle of winter wouldn't be the place for a newborn, but hell, I'm no mom.

I could talk about the annoying people who made me understand why the derogatory term "breeders" comes about -- you know, the woman who sneers at you when you politely ask her son, who's finished washing his hands and is now playing with the water in the only other sink to please let you use the sink; the hordes of people who refuse to use the "stroller parking lot" and instead take their mack-truck double-wide strollers into the standing-room area (after removing infants; dad's babysitting the stroller, apparently) and you have to miss the dolphin show. Thank goodness there was a poorly-attended late show and we didn't miss it. I could go on and on, but instead I want to talk about this.

I watched the parents in awe as they chaperoned their children throughout the day. I'm sure some of them got some enjoyment from the place, but between keeping track of the children, wanting to look at something the children weren't interested in (or, gods forbid, read one of the information guides!), very (and I mean VERY) few of the parents seemed to be having a very good time. Even the parents of the well-behaved children looked exhausted and irritated. "Mommy just wants to look at this for a second, hold on!" "That's BORING. I wanna see the sharks again!"

So my husband and I talked about it, and about how lucky we are that we really get to experience these places. We can linger by the explanation of the life cycle of coral, because we think that's interesting. We can go back and see the sea otters, or we can go look at the whales again, and we can do that when we want to. We don't have to shuffle quickly past the gift shop so somebody won't see it, or spend $20 on a stuffed dolphin because we just want to shut up the screaming child that's embarrassing us. We can order what we want from the restaurant and not have to get the pizza, and we don't have to compromise because a temper tantrum would be completely intolerable in this crowded room.

And we can do that anywhere. We can go to the zoo, museums, parks, and do what we want. There's no one we have to entertain but ourselves. Sure, sometimes he wants to spend more time with the tarantulas than I might like, or I might be enthralled by the barely moving turtles, but we can move on or stay put without fear of losing anybody. Hell, my husband's 6'5", there's no missing him in a crowd, and he can see over everyone's heads to where I'm at. We don't need to hold each others hands (unless we want to, which we often do)... we can experience these places as grown-ups. It's fun to take my niece to places like this -- she LOVES the zoo and her enthusiasm is infectious.

But, you see, it's nice that we can make our own itinerary without having to hire a babysitter or something. And if we want to experience the places from a child's eyes, we've got a bright seven-year-old who's a phone call away. And believe me, her grandparents love getting that phone call.

The Magic Number

So the hubby and I talked about it, and we decided that when I turn 30, either I'll get a tubal ligation or he'll get snipped, depending on what our research turns up to be the safest and least offensive. I really want to get it done now, but there's something about that magic number... 30. But why wait if it's something we want to do?

The fact is, we probably wouldn't be able to tell family about it. Can't tell my family simply because there's the potential of them telling my husband's family, or something slipping in conversation. I can just hear the jeers now, from his barren aunt and his stepsister who's knee deep into her fourth pregnancy in an attempt for her first child, to his desperate grandmother who'd just dying for great-grandkids. That's sort of why I think it's better if my husband gets the procedure, because then I won't have the guilt.

It's odd. I don't feel guilty about not bringing children into this world, but I do feel guilty when I think about doing something surgically to my own body to make it so. Makes no sense whatsoever, I know, because what does it matter if my bits are in tact or not to the women in my life who can't/couldn't have babies when they wanted them. They're still going to find it offensive.

Or maybe they'll understand. I haven't given them the chance to understand. I'm not sure I want to take that risk.

So for the next two years, according to "the plan", we'll continue to weigh the cons of various birth control measures, keep a close eye on the calendar, etc. All to make it an easier conversation with the doctors, to take away the argument of "oh, but you just got married", to take away the accusations of us being too young to make such a decision. Sure, if A goes in the doctor will say "does your wife know about this?" and if I go in, the docs will say "what if you change your mind?" Somehow I feel that once we've reached that magic number 30 that the discussion will go much more smoothly.

I just wish we didn't have to wait so we can stop being paranoid and just enjoy ourselves.

Jobunting

I'm deep in the midst of a search for a new job, and I'm getting paranoid. I find myself wondering how to deal with telling people that I'm married, or newly married. I've heard tales of discrimination against the hiring of newlywed women, and I can totally understand why. They stick around for awhile — but not too long — before getting pregnant, leaving to have the baby, then toss a coin to see whether they come back after their leave ends.

So there's that, but it's not like I can wave a flag around saying "wait, I'm not having kids, so you don't need to worry about that!" Sure, they're not allowed to discriminate, legally, but all of that happens behind the scenes. Uh-oh, she's recently married with no kids. Do we want to invest in her?

I've seen it happen a lot. Two women at my old job got married, had kids, and lead the company for months to believe they'd be coming back. They never did. And again here -- women get pregnant, stick around, say "sure, I'll be back in three months", then put their resignation in at the end of that time so they can keep their benefits or something. Hell, E did that at her last job, and it's M's plan should she get pregnant again. It isn't any wonder that this is seen as a trend.

I wish I could advertise it. But I also worry that for some reason an employer would discriminate against me because I don't want kids. "What's wrong with that girl?" I feel like I can't win.

The reality is probably that no one really cares, but I'm starting to look at my wedding ring and wonder if that's going to hinder my chances at getting a new job. Not that I'd take it off for interviews or anything — I'm incredibly proud to be married. It's just irrational, and I'm looking for excuses for why no one has called me back yet. Nevermind that none of the applications mentioned my marital status.

What a freak.

Snippity snip

A close friend of mine, who is also childfree, is getting a vascectomy. He's 31, single, has no desire to have children (doesn't like them much at all), and I honestly can't see kids fitting into his lifestyle. To him I say, BRAVO. People tell him this will kill his chances of dating, but he doesn't want to date a woman who has or wants children, anyway, so I say it's helping him thin out the dating pool. But he recommended this to my husband.

And I froze.

We don't want children. I am sure this will not change in the future -- it doesn't fit with the plan, and we've talked a LOT about it. Kids make me miserable, and I don't care if "it's different when they're your own." Yes, it's different when it's kids I care about, but it's still a life sentence. I can still only handle my favorite kids for hours at a time, if that. If I'm tired at work because I didn't sleep, let it be because I had a good time with my friends or my husband last night, not because I was being manipulated by a teething toddler who's learned that if he cries enough, he gets to come into mommy and daddy's bed and watch The Wiggles at 2:30am.

But to do something so permanent?

I'm 95% sure I think the procedure would be a good idea. Imagine, no more stressing about it. It would be done!! What a way to no longer worry about "accidents happen!" I'm not so worried about me changing my mind, but him changing his mind. That's always been the biggest worry about us, that someday he'll go back to where he was when we met, to thinking four little ones running around is the kind of life for him.

He's been a pseudo-step-dad before with his ex, so he knows the sacrifice involved and doesn't like it. Then, when we met, I showed him a life filled with fun and friends, the promises of traveling. He's also seen his nephews grow up to be far more than we could ever dream of handling. He's seen the sacrifices our friends have to make now that they have children, and I believe him when he says he doesn't want it. But it's still hard feeling like I've talked him into being childfree.

So why not get the vascectomy? Because I don't want him to have buyer's remorse and regret it, to resent me for "making" him do it. Yes, it can be reversed, but it's not so much the fact that I fear we'll change our minds, but moreso that taking away the final option seems so... final. That's not the sort of thing you want to regret the next morning.

Polar opposites

My husband's stepsister is currently going through hell. This is her fourth pregnancy, or attempted pregnancy; she's due in May, but she's been on bedrest for over a month due to her three previous miscarriages. I can't even fathom what she and her husband are going through. She feels miserable all the time, and she's not even halfway there. The best-case-scenarios involve her carrying the baby at least to 6 or seven months, delivering prematurely and hoping for the best.

How can she want this so badly?

My lack of maternal instinct hits me especially hard during situations like this. I can't empathize at all. I just think "Why not adopt? Why go through all this hell?" In the meantime, I'm thinking of all the horrible things that would happen if I got pregnant by accident (note to self: call doctor and schedule appointment!) and here she is struggling, giving up her social life -- or life outside the home at all -- just so she might maybe have the chance that this might maybe work this time, when all the while the odds are stacked against her, even with all this sacrifice. I wish her the best because she wants this so badly, but its the "wanting it so badly" that I can't comprehend. It makes me consider if something really is very wrong with me. I know it's not healthy to think that way, that it's okay to not want children, but seeing such an extreme opposite to my feelings makes me wonder.

Confirmation

We spent our first full weekend back from our honeymoon with my best friend, her husband, and their two sons -- T, who is 3, and N, who's already pushing 5 months. I came to a very satisfying realization this past weekend.

1. I love and adore those boys
and
2. Nope. Definitely don't want one

I couldn't have been prouder when T took to us immediately, as though he remembered us from our visit when they lived outside Vancouver. Little N seemed to like us lots too -- and what a good baby! Seriously, I've never been around a baby his age for such an extended period of time who was so low-maintenance. ADORABLE!! We played with T, let him show off all his favorite toys. It was a really fun afternoon and exactly what we needed.

But it wasn't T's meltdown that reassured me. Three-year-olds have meltdowns, especially when they're overtired, overstimulated, and not getting their usual amount of attention because mommy and daddy want to talk to their guests. It happens and it's understandable. It's part of the job. And it wasn't that he woke up earlier than anybody wanted to, or that we had to change the channel and watch cartoons with him in the morning. We wanted to do that. It's part of the job.

You see, that's the entire thing. It's a job. It's a full-time, 24/7 job. Their lives revolve around their children. We waited to go out at night so she could feed the baby. Again, not a problem, we didn't mind in the least. But again, the kids were the center of the universe. As they should be, mind you, but A and I felt very secure in the fact that we don't want to live in that universe. It's fun to visit, to play with the kids, to keep them occupied while the parents get stuff accomplished. And we love these kids. But 24/7 seems like a bit much.

It's the same thing when I spend an extended period of time with my niece. I honestly feel like I couldn't love her more if she were my own. I feel protective of her, I want to be with her, I want to be her role-model and I worry about her a lot. I brag about her constantly to people at work and proudly show off new photos. I secretly find it super-cool that she looks a lot like me. BUT, I don't want the commitment of taking care of her full-time, having my life revolve around ANYTHING, even a child.

At the office I hear constantly about parents' weekends dominated by their kids' activities, struggling to figure out which child's event to go to when their schedules conflict. Baby-sitter emergencies ruin date night plans, sick children require vacation days to be drained. It just doesn't sound like fun. Yes, they can look at you with their big eyes like T does, and that makes it worth it... for you. It's just not enough payoff for me.

What Ifs...

I suppose it's always in the back of my mind (nevermind the taunts that "accidents happen!" from those who surround me), but I wonder what would happen if I found myself pregnant. But only in minutes like those I spent waiting in the doctor's office today does it really become sort of real.

I knew I wasn't pregnant. Good grief, I'm only a week late for my Depo shot, but there's still a very potent tension while you're waiting for those test results, starting down the hall, waiting for the nurse to walk out with your prescription in hand. What would I do?

Honestly, the thought of getting pregnant right now terrifies me like nothing else. Who would I call? Who could I call that would understand that "Congratulations!!!!!" would not be an appropriate response? What would I do? Would I continue the pregnancy and live with the consequences? Would I terminate the pregnancy because this is so not what we want? Would I be able to tell my husband, or would I consider keeping it from him out of fear that he would try to change my mind? These are all questions I've asked myself, and while hypothetical, it's an incredibly difficult situation.

I've long said that I believe in a woman's right to an abortion, but I wouldn't be able to go through it myself. Surprisingly, however, the older I get and the more sure I am about remaining childfree, the more I look at abortion as an escape route from a bad situation. Of course I'm conflicted because I don't meet the arbitrary requirements that make an abortion acceptable -- We're financially secure, our relationship is strong, and we're fit, in the general sense, to raise a child.

Now you're going to tell me it'll be different when it's my own child, right? That if that day would come that I find out I'm pregnant, really I'll be overjoyed and these thoughts will *poof* out of my head, right? But do you understand that the idea of being a parent makes me sick to my stomach? Makes my heart ache, my head dizzy. When I picture a child in my life I get panicked and scared and sick... I'm not "normal", I can admit that. I'm 28 years old, practically a newlywed and the thought of babies makes me squeamish like you would not believe. I cannot, even a little, imagine that changing just because "whoooopsies! guess I'm pregnant now!".

Would I have an abortion if I found myself pregnant? Would I try to hide it from A? Probably not and definitely not; we're partners in life now. I believe every child should be a wanted child, but at the same time I know if it came down to it, we'd deal. But it's still something that gets tossed around in my head at moments like these, sitting and waiting for the test results.

Some of the most wonderful children I've known have been "accidents". My niece, my best friend's little brother... hell, *I* was unplanned too. However, that doesn't mean saying something like "accidents happen!" is encouraging. Yes, my mom dealt great with things (twice over, as she raises my niece), but she has a lot of regrets. I don't want a life full of regrets. The fact is, I don't want an accident to happen. And Gods-willing, it won't.

An interesting analogy

It came up again at work yesterday. It always comes up at work. There's baby fever here, y'know. According to everyone surrounding me, I'm just not ready for kids yet; once we've been married awhile that will change. We don't really want to remain childless.

And I thought about this, and an interesting analogy popped into my head. It's like when a 6-year-old girl says boys are gross, or vice-versa. Everyone just laughs and says "wait 'til you get older!". I think, because of my age, that's what people write off my CF views as -- I'm just not ready yet, but it's only a matter of time.

When I went for my last depo provera shot, my doctor and I were discussing nobaby options. She made a number of suggestions for less reliable means of contraception, and i told her I wasn't comfortable with a reliability rate of only 85%. "Well, you're getting married, so getting pregnant wouldn't really be a bad thing, right?" she said with a smile.

"No," I told her, "we're choosing not to have children."
She laughed. "Okay, so we'll stick with the Depo... for now. You're still young. hahaha!"

I suspect it's a similar thing to what gay people go through -- everyone says it's just a phase until, finally, it becomes clear that this isn't changing. I've referred to the decision to tell our families as "coming out"; maybe the similarity of the two situations is stronger than I think? I don't know... it's all just so frustrating.

I'm really starting to wonder at what age I'll have to be when people start believing we're serious about this...

So... it's a baby I guess

"What is wrong with you?! Lauren's here with her baby and you don't want to see it!"

Nope. Don't really care. Insisting I was really busy wasn't working, so I went anyway.

Lauren, one of my now former co-workers, left about 2 months ago when she had her baby. Of course, she decided not to come back to work. Her former position is a stressful one, and one I wouldn't want even without a newborn at home, but she insisted to the very last moment that she would be coming back in a couple weeks.

But she returned to visit us today, her new baby boy in tow. And, of course, all the women in my office rushed like crazy to see the fresh new baby.

Yup, that's a baby alright. A six-week-old, with his giant little head cocked to the side and fuschia skin all... there. Maybe it's bias or attachment working its magic, but my best friend's new baby is ADORABLE; this was just kind of a baby. Sleeping, in his carseat. Just a baby. Nothing special. So I left after seeing the baby, making the appropriate "what a cutie" comments, and went back to my desk.

I don't get it, the fascination with newborn babies. Everyone wanted to smell him. They all stood in a circle and smiled and stared. I just don't get it. Yes, I was fascinated with my best friend's baby, but that's because he's the child of someone I love, and I want to be a part of his life. This was just random baby #257. Without the emotional attachment, babies are a big nothing to me.

Yes, of course, that's what will make the difference *when* I have my own children, I'll have more tolerance and like them more, etc. etc. etc. I don't doubt that if I had kids I would love them completely, that I would experience whatever it is that mothers feel for their offspring. The difference is, I'm perfectly fulfilled without that, thank you. I'll keep my life of convenience.

Omens (and guilt)

M, the "other girl" in my office, announced on Monday that she is pregnant. This, to any normal couple, would be great and happy news. The problem is, her husband is an asshole. Certifiable asshat. They've been together for two years, and are celebrating their 1-year anniversary next week... they've already spent the last four months in counseling. "But I'm sure when we have kids he'll be better," she says. Sure, he'll control his temper and stop throwing things, he'll stop buying cars you can't afford and he'll sell his new 2006 Corvette that you definitely can't afford when you have kids. Counseling is a good thing; if couples are having trouble, I think they should go. It helps people. But I think (a) if you're in counseling in the first year because your spouse "totally changed" and developed a violent temper overnight, you should reevaluate the relationship and (b) if "a" is the case, you have no business having babies. Babies don't magically make bad marriages better. Regardless of my personal stance on having children myself, I'm sorry, I just can't believe that M bringing a baby into that relationship right now could possibly be a good thing for her. I say this because I care about her. We may not be "hang out after work" buddies, but I spend more time with her than I do A, and yes, I care about what happens to her.

That's why today, when she started crying at her desk, I tried to comfort her. She thinks she may be having a miscarriage. She left work half an hour ago to go to her doctor, who wants her to come in. She's devastated, although she still doesn't know what's going on. She told EVERYONE that she's pregnant, and she's only 6 weeks along, so she's also really embarrassed. I didn't know what to say, so I just told her not to panic until after her doctor's appointment. But really, with her symptoms, it doesn't look good.

And all I could think is "maybe this is the gods telling you that maybe you two aren't ready to have kids yet." Of course, I didn't tell this to her face, but I still feel bad for thinking it. I don't know why, because that's what I believe. Her husband has already been yelling at her on the phone because her first instinct wasn't to leave work and go to the doctor when her symptoms started this morning, which of course made her even more upset. I keep wondering if he's going to blame her if she miscarries, make her feel even worse. Because he's that much of a jackass. I wondered if their marriage could survive a baby; I'm not sure it can survive her miscarrying.

I don't know, I guess I just feel kind of terrible about thinking bad thoughts about M's pregnancy; maybe a little guilty -- not like "this is my fault" guilty, but I just feel for her. This has to be just awful to go through. I still do believe that maybe this is some sort of omen that maybe they should get their personal relationship figured out before they walk down this path, but still... Poor M.

Another One Bites the Dust

I lost an important sista in my childfree circle today. Not completely; it's not like she's pregnant or plans to be anytime soon, but she's crossed over to the other side. Jeanine wants babies... not now, but someday. She wants little Danish babies with Scandinavian names to go with her boyfriend's funny last name when they finally decide to get married.

This isn't a bad thing, mind you. I speak in jest about her "crossing over"... and there I go again with the disclaimers. In all seriousness, I'm just shocked overall. Jeanine, who was childfree before I was, who freaks out at the mere thought of EVER being pregnant, and can't stand babies... or couldn't. It's just strange to me that someone I thought of as completely and thoroughly childfree has fallen victim to the taunt I hear all the time... she's "changed her mind".

We were discussing the shower/ribbons situation and my fiancé's grandma's new favorite phrase, "when the baby comes", over coffee when she told me this. We talked about it for awhile when a woman at the table next to us asked me why I didn't want kids. She's probably in her late 30s, maybe early 40s. She never had kids, "but then again, I never got married"; she wanted to know how I came to this decision. It was awkward explaining myself to a stranger, and I was still somewhat in shock over Jeanine's admission that she really does want kids, but we talked for a bit. "I'm 28," I told her, "and I've still never had that insatiable urge for children," among other things. "Yeah, but maybe when you're like 34 or something, right? You're keeping your options open, right?" I may have rolled my eyes before caving, "sure, I might change my mind," more to end the conversation than anything.

I spent my entire drive home wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Why is it so hard for this to just be a decision between my future husband and me? Why can't I make people back off without saying "I might change my mind"? Why is that the only way they garner satisfaction? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?

It's not fear that I might change my mind and render all this ridiculous in a sort of "ha ha, told you so" way. It's that I don't want to change my mind. I honestly feel like changing my mind will do all the things I fear -- it'll change my life completely in a way I don't want it to be changed. Why would I change it? Because of the "baby rabies"? Because I can't handle the pressure from family? Why can't I just say "we're not having kids" and have that be okay??

At the shower on Saturday I sat next to Lori, who just got married a couple weeks ago. She stared longingly at baby Nathaniel. "I want one of those so bad it kills me," she said. "I hate that I have to wait 'til I'm done with school." That doesn't happen to me. I stare at the baby and think "oh my god, he's so adorable, so tiny, so soft, so etc. etc. etc.," but any desire to have one is always tempered by what it means to have one, a realization that the sacrifices aren't worth it. FOR ME. Just me.

And again I ask the question, why is this so offensive to people, so hard for them to grasp?? It's not fair. I just want to feel normal.

Whose Vacation Time?

It happened again yesterday. E's babysitter called in sick, so she had to leave work early to cover for her. "Whose vacation time is this, anyway," she said to me in an exasperated voice. "I've only used maybe one of my vacation days for myself, and now I'm almost out."

It's true. The days our company has off, her babysitter wants off too. When she calls in, it's because her babysitter is unavailable. And, invariably, she comes in the next day completely worn out and looking exhausted.

She often complains that she's a bad mother because she has to work, but she doesn't do it for the money. Almost her entire salary goes to pay her babysitters. I've said it before, there are people who are just wired to be stay-at-home moms -- she is not one of them. She's fine on the weekends with him, when her husband is usually there, but she freaks out when she has to spend a day alone with her son.

E had babies for an interesting reason: it was time. On her schedule, I mean. Get married by 22, have first child by 24. Check, all of the above. Yet she constantly comments, when A and I do something fun on a weeknight, or take a spur-of-the-moment trip, that she wishes she could do all that. I don't think she was ready for the sacrifice yet. She also talks a lot about how she wishes she had a girl (not diminishing her love for her son), and, well, speaks in a rather juvenile way about him sometimes, as if he's a new gadget or toy to be shown off to others. Not in the same way other people talk about their children, mind you... it's almost as if he's inanimate.

That sounds horrible when I put it in writing; I don't know, she just loves showing him off SO MUCH, loves the idea of him, really. Loves shopping for him, buying him cute things, decorating his bedroom, hanging his photos all over the place. But when it comes down to it... I don't know what I'm trying to say. She loves her son, I believe that wholeheartedly. But, well, she gets SO flustered about spending more than an evening alone with him, gets so upset when she has to use her vacation time to take care of him... I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I actually kind of applaud her for feeling comfortable enough to express frustration and annoyance with being a parent. I don't know, I guess this just all gets added to the list of things to consider if I ever do start to feel the winds of mind-changin'. There's nothing wrong with her, really. It's just part of being a Mom... the complete sacrifice is the thing that I just can't get on board with; seems like E is still getting used to it.

Ribbons and Bows

I'm unsure if this is a midwestern thing or if everyone knows about this, but apparently if you break a ribbon at your bridal shower, that = one baby. I had been to a bridal shower where this was the case, but I was hoping it wouldn't extend to my family or my fiancé's... no such luck. I ripped the bow off my first gift and heard hoots and hollers all over. "She broke the ribbon!" "You know what that means, don't you!" "That's ONE!"

This continued throughout the unwrapping. I MacGuyvered my gifts out of their intricately wrapped ribbons, much to the dismay of my future grandma-in-law, who wailed loudly "come on, I need LOTS of grandkids!" One particular gift was wrapped so bizarrely in ribbon that my future mother-in-law and my fiancé's aunt both excitedly snapped photographs before I had at it. Success. Success which was met by a bewildered, "I'm sorry, I tried!" from my aunt. Oh brother.

My best friend brought her two-month-old along, and I got to meet him for the first time. I still can't shake the feeling that she still doesn't understand that my desire to remain childfree has nothing to do with not liking her kids. I couldn't stop touching little Nathaniel's soft tiny head, covered in silky, fuzzy hair. He was just to die for. When I offered to hold him while she was loading up her car, she looked at me like I was Chinese. Me, hold a baby? I might catch "babies!" I just wish I could make her understand... it's like the person I need most desperately to support me in this -- my best friend -- still can't separate this issue from herself. I don't know what to do about it.

I know she's sensitive when I post these things -- that's why it's ending up here and not in my LiveJournal. I feel like if I try to make her feel comfortable that she thinks I'm trying too hard... if I tell her how much I adore her sons, that it's not sincere, or that it's a front. I just wish I had some confirmation that she gets it, but the biggest rift we've ever had was when her first son was born; She was hypersensitive about our friends who didn't want children, I said some things I wish I could take back. But I don't think she's ever gotten past that. I don't think she'll ever be comfortable with my adoration for her children, and I think until I change my mind and decide to have kids of my own, my actions with regards to her sons will always be suspect. I just don't know what I can do about that.

Supply and Demand (Interesting Pro-Choice essay)

A friend ran across this on Craigslist and thought it was pretty well written, so she shared it. I enjoyed it as well, although some of it is a little harsh. Still, many good points.

The original post

"So I was walking through campus the other day and there were some kids holding posters in support of Roe V. Wade. 'Bravo,' I thought, as I walked by. Then out of the corner of my ear I heard mockery of the activists in the form of “I’m bored, hey! We should go get abortions this afternoon! That would be fun!” which came from one male pro-life student to another.

Now, I know, I’m preaching to the choir here, but the abortion debate is quite a bit more complex than “baby-killing” versus “choice.” If it were that simple, I don’t believe that the battle over the issue would have been dragged on for this long. And, so, I’m curious as to why the argument, on both sides, has been driven to simplicity.

In case there are a few dip-shits out there reading this, I’m going to go through this comprehensively so as to, perhaps, enhance the debate within the minds of a few.

First and foremost: not a single person on Earth desires an abortion. In this case desire is not interchangeable with demand. Women do not want abortions the way they may want a new car, a warm home, or in the case of my girlfriend: a new pair of shoes.

Goods, services, and subsequent industries begin with demand; supply is purely reactionary. In the case of abortion, the legality of the practice is completely arbitrary. Meaning: demand is unaffected by the government’s administration over the industry sector.

If we create a typical profile of a woman that chooses to undergo the procedure, we paint the picture of someone that is 1) young, 2) lower to mid-middle class, 3) uneducated, 4) a minority and 5) living under social constraints that render un-wed motherhood completely unacceptable. This may be a generalization, but for the purposes of this experiment, we’re going to the peak of the bell curve.

When you think about this, it makes sense. In the animal kingdom, the only reasons a mother abandons her young are 1) the creature is too weak or disabled to keep up and 2) there’s not enough food/resources for the mother to survive and sustain her child.

How then, can the demand for Abortions be addressed and quelled? Also, how do the policies of pro-life proponents address these problems?

Lets just shoot down the list. We’ll use a median-voting pro-life individual to identify the problems with thinking about this problem too simplistically. That individual is: a republican, because lets face it, if you’re die-hard pro-life, you’re a fucking republican.

Since youth isn’t a variable that’s easy to change (and also not a very good reason to get an abortion) we’ll exclude it from the argument.

1) The person is poor. They cannot afford to sustain themselves and a child without adversely affecting the quality of their already shitty lives. The pro-choice left seeks to offer the lower class tax breaks and transfer payments from the upper class. The left increases funding to social welfare programs and public assistance. Republicans burden the poor with taxes while passing tax cuts to the wealthy. Welfare programs are eliminated.

2) The person is uneducated. They aren’t aware of birth-control options that are at their disposal. They are unskilled laborers and therefore have little to no potential to “make-it.” The left seeks to educate high-school students over birth control, offer birth control to teens, and make plan-B available without a prescription. The left supports education by increasing funding to schools. Republicans tend toward the opposite. Children are, with a degree of futility, taught to “wait until marriage” and are fed mis-information that claims birth control can lead to infertility. Public education programs are cut, creating more working class individuals while manufacturing jobs are exported to exploitable regions of the world.

3) The birth is unsupported by friends and family. Meaning the abortion seeker is afraid of alienating themselves from their friends and family, school and workplace, and their entire community. Leftists offer support centers and their families tend to be much more accepting. Right wing nuts threaten the woman with the wrath of god, disown her, or send her to a hospital where the child and mother are nurtured in a concealed and unfit environment.

4) The individual is a minority. Not a lot you can do about this one. However, I wish to point out that pro-life billboards preach that adoption is a viable alternative and that millions of loving couples are waiting to adopt. Here is the problem with the millions of couples that are waiting to adopt: they’re fucking racists. Millions of couples are waiting to adopt white babies while the baby market is flooded with brown ones. Recently, its been brought to the public’s attention that those children are being adopted by foreigners from Canada and Europe. Legislation is being introduced, by republicans, that will prevent those unwanted babies from leaving to other countries, where they are wanted, because they were “born in America and should stay in America.”

Pro-life republicans, while they claim to oppose abortion, create the very environment in which demand for the practice thrives. Pro-choice democrats seek to create an environment in which no one needs an abortion in the first place, while ensuring the practice is safe, sanitary, and performed by a licensed medical practitioner as we, as a society, are still in a transitional period. By eliminating the demand for abortion, practitioners will lose the ability to practice. The supply will cease to exist and the clinic will close. Which seems much more civil than blowing it up or shooting some doctors.

People are, in general, pretty fucking stupid. They are, however, programmed to survive. If a woman becomes pregnant, and that pregnancy threatens her economic, social, or political survival, she will resolve her problem by all means at her disposal. The legality of abortion is therefore not the issue and all of you conveniently Christian conservatives that lack the devotion to help the sick and poor should shut your fucking mouths."

Quiet Please!

Wanna see something cool?
Wanna see something cool?
Wanna see something cool?

Auntie come watch this!
Auntie come watch this!
Auntie come watch this!

Wanna see something cool?

I love my niece, I adore her. If something were to happen to my brother and parents, I would take her in a second. But OH MY GOD she does not stop talking. And she's a show-off -- just like I was at her age, I hear -- and requires constant attention. She's, basically, a 6-year-old.

A and I spent the weekend with my niece. She joined us at the flower shop and behaved better than Uncle A as we finalized the flower decisions. Later, we took her to her best friend's birthday party. This was taxing. The girls were constantly demanding we watch them do this trick and that, although "this" and "that" were pretty much the same thing. We humored them, we laughed, we congratulated them on their gymnastics skills. It was actually quite cute at first, but it got old. Fast.

Then there were the boys. Oh dear god the boys. One, whom my mom dubbed "tough guy", kept challenging kids to do dangerous stunts on the slide and merry-go-round. The other was "the sand thrower", and he just threw sand at everything. People, dogs, and he coated the slide with it. Where were their parents? In all cases Dad was huddled by the barbeque, Mom was talking exasperatedly with the other moms and shooting annoyed glances at them while saying "stop that" in a nonthreatening voice. There were, of course, no consequences for NOT stopping that.

After we tore her, sobbing, from the birthday party, we went out to the camp site. We blew up the air mattress and she began practicing her gymnastics on it. It was adorable, at first, of course. Auntie, watch me do a flip/summersault/running summersault, which were all, again, pretty much the same thing. A showed her how to do a headstand and she practiced this for awhile. But the moment we stopped paying attention, it was "wanna see something cool?" And, of course we want to see something cool, so she'd do another summersault and say "wasn't that cool!"

After dinner, she let up and we had a really fun game of Yahtzee, which she is frighteningly good at. I think it was because we were actively involved in a game she was playing that she was so, well, not annoying. Now THAT was quality time spent with her. The night ended well, but the next morning it all started up again. "Wanna see something cool?" After I tear down the tent, C. "Watch me do this!" I can't right now, I'm trying to clean up. "Wanna see something cool?"

I just have no patience for her after awhile, and while I love this child more than any other, I was so glad to have grownup time after we left. I can't help but feel like having children is a life-sentence of limited grownup time. Sure, the kids are cute, but after the novelty wears off it just gets irritating. I can't have a dog for the same reason, and sometimes I get so frustrated with my cat's constant cries for attention that I hide under the covers or go so far as to lock him out of the room. How do people DO this??

When the baby's born

We dined at my fiancé's grandmother's house last night, and she presented him with a lovely, thoughtful gift: his grandfather's wedding band. It's sort of cheesy in an old-man's band kind of way, but it was a wonderful gesture and she doesn't expect him to wear it as his wedding band, since we purchased ours already.

Then, she looked at me and said "when the baby comes, if it's a girl, she can have my rings," as if I were already pregnant.

She's going to be the hardest one of the bunch, and when I'm with her i just melt. Not in the way that we'd have kids just to please her, or to avoid disappointing her, but in the way that I don't want to tel her we're not having children. Because his only aunt & uncle tried for years with no luck, I don't want to lie and say we ARE trying... y'know, in two years after A finishes school. I don't want to mock the pain they went through as she suffered miscarriages and stillbirths before deciding to stop and remain childfree.

How do you break someone's heart like that, though? How do I look at this poor 80-year-old woman, who's so excited for "when the baby comes", and tell her she will have no great-grandchildren. None. How do I tell her that? It's only in these moments that I feel selfish. Scratch that, it's not the selfishness -- it's that I feel like a bad person.

Yes, this is a selfish decision we're making, but we believe it's no more selfish than having children and expecting to carry on with the same lifestyle we currently have. The weekend trips here or there, the late nights spent gaming or just hanging out with friends, the quiet time alone together. But being selfish does not make us bad people.

Watching his grandmother, seeing how desperately she wants A to have a child, that's when I feel sick to my stomach with guilt because I know I can't give her what she wants. I can see the whole family growing to resent A's selfish wife who won't have kids. He won't get blamed, it'll all be on me, I just know it. I don't know how to prepare myself for that.

Talk Talk About It

I think I'm starting to understand why parents talk so much about their children. The fact is, I'm surprised how much my fiancé and I talk about being childfree with our likeminded friends. It's an issue that's constantly on our minds. It comes up when we're talking about the wedding, about vacations, about our friends, about our families. We talk about children, I dare say, every bit as much as an average parent — NOT the obsessive types whose lives revolve around their kids to the point where they define themselves as ONLY a parent and not a person, but just a regular parent. This seems to be true of all my childfree friends. We talk about it all the time.

There was a time where I wondered if the fact that I'm so interested in identifying myself as childfree, so obsessed with the idea of NOT having children, was masking the fact that I really do want kids. This period bothered me considerably. "Why am I so obsessed wiith this label, this lifestyle?" I'd ask myself. It was a time of great self-doubt.

I would be lying if I said I never wondered what it would be like to have kids with my fiancé. Of course I have. I've wondered what they'd look like, whose personality traits they'd pick up, all of that stuff. But it's never been in the way that a lot of my parent friends have thought about it. Sure, I've thought long and hard on whether I'd regret this decision in the future, wondered what it would mean if we did change our minds in ten, fifteen years. Would I be letting this "movement", this label I'm attaching to myself, down? I would be one of those breeders who changed their mind, who was never actually childfree in the first place as some sites argue.

I honestly think anyone who claims they've never EVER considered kids is kidding themselves. We all arrived at this decision through consideration. I know that while I'm not terribly fond of the babies of strangers and I remain unmoved when "A Baby Story" comes on TV, I still look at my niece and wonder what it would be like to have a kid just like her. My maternal instinct is remarkably weak, though, I've noticed through the years as my niece grows up and my friends start having babies. I don't oogle over teeny tiny shoes and socks, or have the need to see and hold every baby that crosses my path. My instinct is still to flee. I honestly was never able to see a day when someone would call me "Mom". It's just not me.

The thing is, when I latch onto stories of kids, I'm of course moved and touched by the sweet or funny stories. But the ones that stick with me, unlike my parent friends and the parents-to-be, are the negatives. I love hearing the fun stories, but I can't get past the complaints of "I want my life back" or "when you have kids, you won't have time for that" or "I miss my husband", etc. These stories are much more powerful to me, and when I imagine myself in such a position I feel paralyzed. It makes me sick.

But because children are such a huge part of the lives of the people with whom I surround myself, being childfree is justifiably a huge part of mine. Every time I defend my position I feel a little better. I still feel sick when I consider coming out to my future in-laws and know that it's going to be incredibly difficult, but I'm strong in my resolve. Luckily I have the support of a wonderful, like-minded man, many like-minded friends and a handful of respectful disagree-ers to help me through.

On Traveling

"I need a vacation from my vacations," said an exhausted Megan walking into my office yesterday morning. It was her first day back from her weeklong family vacation with 6-year-old Lilly and 3-year-old Griffen. This week was spent as their vacations are often spent — visiting family who lives out of state. Grammy can't fly, so every summer she and her husband take the 10-hour roadtrip (which is "pure hell", in her own words) to Grammy's "museum" of the house. Grammy believes that "you don't move things, you teach your kids not to touch them." This is unwise. In the three days they spent at Grammy's house, Griffen managed to break an antique vase, a candle-holder and a glass. Grammy was on edge the whole vacation. Lilly, on the other hand, suffered from incredible boredom. Grammy's house isn't exactly built for children, Megan explained. And, because of the not-moving-stuff rule, their activities were limited to a small portion of the house, unless they wanted to go elsewhere. This would have been the best solution, but Grammy wanted to kids to stay there. "You've come all this way, and now you don't want to see me!" she'd squeal. So they stayed. And were bored. Then they left, another day-long drive in pure hell. "I just want a grown-up vacation," she whines. They'll surely return next year.

-----

"We never go anywhere!" My officemate constantly complains that she and her husband haven't had a vacation since she became pregnant with 1-year-old Michael. Whenever talk of my upcoming honeymoon arises, or whenever someone drops by our office to talk about their recent trip, she sighs. "I need a vacation."

So far this year, a full week of her vacation time has been spent covering for sick or vacationing babysitters — she and her husband hire an in-home sitter for their son. Now, as my company ramps up for our busiest season (when taking more than one day off at a time is virtually impossible), she's planning her vacation. Here's the problem.

The whole reason she wants to take a vacation is to be closer to her husband. She wants a vacation from being Mommy. And, yet, she's terrified of leaving little Michael with her mother for more than a night at a time. So they keep scheduling their long weekends and cancelling them because she doesn't want to leave Michael.

I appreciate the sacrifice she's making and how hard it must be to leave her child in the hands of anyone, even the child's own grandmother, but then she should stop whining about how she can never go anywhere. If you want a vacation from being Mommy, I say, then take the vacation. "But I feel like such a bad Mom, taking a vacation without my son," she whines. In that case, I throw up my hands.

If you give yourself this break, I tell her, you'll be a better mom for it, and you'll be able to get over this resentment that you feel for him, to get over the feeling that he's keeping you from what you want to do. It's healthy to leave him. So just do it. She cancelled another vacation today. I'm sure tomorrow the cycle will begin again.

------

We spent the weekend with my fiancé's family at their family reunion and were wonderfully reassured in our decision to remain childfree. We were surrounded by his nephews, and nieces, all laughing, playing, and causing mischief. There are so many children in our life, it felt good to see that we wouldn't be leaving a void by not having kids. His family will see it differently, but that's another story.

What we also did this weekend was watch the parents closely, and we noticed something. Not once, for the entire three day weekend at his aunt's gorgeous lake house, did one of these people STOP being a parent. They never played the role of husband, wife, lover. The couples didn't take the time to enjoy a quiet, romantic walk around the wooded lot together, they didn't take out a paddleboat or a waverunner together — they didn't appear to take any time to just enjoy the beautiful area, or to enjoy each other. In fact, the only time they spoke to each other seemed to be when reporting something or other that the children had gotten into.

Of course, children will be children. That's what they do. That's why it's so much better to watch from afar. I don't want that kind of grief when I'm on vacation. I don't want to spend my evening searching the great room for Uncle Frank's antique wooden checkers that one of the eight kids — no one will come forward, however, for fear of getting in some well-deserved trouble — hid somewhere. Nobody knows who did it, nobody knows where. I want to go on vacation to the lake house to spend time with the man I love, to enjoy some quiet time together, away from our hectic life in the city. And that's what we did. We relaxed, we took romantic walks, we rode together on the waverunner, and we felt sorry for the couples who couldn't seem to even carry on a conversation with one another unless it was about the kids.

End of the line

In a little over two months I will be changing my name. In doing so, I will become the last new addition to my groom's family. My fiancé is an only child and already we've been pressured, poked and prodded to unveil the date when we'll begin the process of carrying on the family name. They're going to have to deal with this... whenever we decide to tell them.

There are a number of reasons why we have yet to declare our upcoming marriage a childfree one. The wedding tops that list. We'd rather this decision NOT be the focus on our wedding day.

For now, it's easy enough when confronted with the "when you two have kids" comments to just smile, giggle, and act uncomfortable. It usually makes people go away, or at least drop the subject. My family has pretty much accepted this reality, although they hope I'll somehow change my mind, bringing my groom along with me. His family, however, will be devastated.

I don't think that word is an overstatement.

My fiancé is the only child of an only child; my future father-in-law can't wait for us to have kids, and he can't wait to tell me so. He's the only grandson of a woman whose daughter (my fiancé's mother) is deceased and whose other child's wife is barren; she speaks of it constantly. My fiancé is under a lot of pressure to reproduce. We feel it at every family gathering, every other phone call, you name it. It's intimidating, frustrating and heartbreaking.

We'll be breaking their hearts when we announce our plans to remain childfree.

My fiancé has toyed with the idea of claiming that I'm barren, or that he's shooting blanks. But I don't want to be pushed into emotional discussions with his aunt, who had two stillborn babies and a miscarriage before deciding to call it quits, or his stepsister who is desperate to have a child but can't seem to conceive, about how hard it is wanting something so badly and being unable to have it. It's disrespectful of their suffering, and I won't do it. Nevermind that I don't want to lie, period. I don't want endless discussions about fertility treatments, etc. I can't pretend like that. But he REALLY doesn't want to go there with his family.

I simply don't know how to handle this. I want to get it out of the way, although I'm all for doing it AFTER the wedding, but I'm terrified. I don't want to alienate his family, I don't want to disappoint his father and grandmother. But the fact is, we don't want kids. We love the children in our lives and feel that we have plenty. We want our careers, we want to travel, we want freedom, and we don't want the responsibility of raising children.

Someday in the months to come, we'll be asked outright and forced to answer. I've already told him that if someone pushes and requires a response stronger than silence, it's time. Before or after the wedding, the news will come out. We'll deal with the tears, the pleading, the pressure... It's a day I equally anticipate and dread.