Thinking about kids…

“I felt the same way when I was your age. Don’t rule it out completely – you’ll probably change your mind”

I don’t like kids. I don’t want kids. Its not that I have some kind of repulsion towards them or that I have this burning animosity – I just have no interest in having my own. None. Zip. Nadda. Its unfathomable to me that I would ever be able to play the role of ‘mom’. I wouldn’t say I lack any kind of maternal instinct – I love raising baby animals, and I can’t think of a single period of my childhood where we had less than 5 cats, a dog, and a bunch of livestock. But human children are different – I have no special affinity for them what-so-ever.

The only things children represent to me is a chain on my leg that will forcibly orient itself in the position of “center of my universe” and superceed the importance of all other things in my life. And that’s in the most ideal of situations.

Imagine if the child was autistic, or born with a degenerative condition? I have a great deal of respect for people who are in those situations and can handle them – they are extremely brave and commited parents, and I applaud their devotion – but I do not believe I am strong enough for that. I would be resentful, and unhappy, I just don’t think I would ever be able to reconcile those feelings in order to devote myself wholeheartedly to the child.

I tend to look at pregnancywith a very sterile, medical attitude as well. If it was a choice between my life and an unborn child’s, I would choose to abort. No hesitation. Its strikes me as foolish for a woman to do otherwise on the grounds that a fetus’s life has more value than her own. If I were the husband, I would much rather loose the fetus and have my wife – even if trying again was not possible, there are other options. A fetus is a potential person – its mother IS a person. Just my opinion…

You have to really want kids to have them and be happy. As a woman, you have to spend 9 months incubating them, suffer the agony of childbirth, and then they are completely dependent on you for at least the next 5 years. Then shortly after puberty hits the metaphorical fan and if my observation of my own peers in elementary through high school is any indication, that can be the most hellish thing to suffer through. I would no more become a parent than a gradeschool teacher.

I also don’t understand the way women come unglued around someone else’s baby. What an embarassing, stereotypical girly display – makes me ashamed of my gender. I don’t gush like that over puppies and kittens, which I find to be superiorly “cute”. Yeah, congradulations or whatever. No, thank you, I don’t care to hold the baby.

Like I said, I don’t ‘hate’ kids, but for some reason, I always feel a great swell of pity whenever I see a young mother dragging along her little snot-nosed brats, or a pretty girl bulging out of her clothes 7 months into the pregnancy. And all I can think is, “That will NEVER be me”. Sometimes it worries me that I have such an extreme attitude about it, but in truth, it downright horrifies me that I might find myself pregnant and stuck raising a kid.

My biggest problem has do with the trauma to my body. I’m extremely sensitive to weight change, and I think the condition of pregnancy would throw me into a paranoid depression from which I might never recover. It would make me feel fat and vulnerable. And I couldn’t stand it – I’ve spent my entire life trying to be as healthy and fit as I can (I’ve never had a drink in my life, never smoked, never done drugs, I eat well, and I work out 5 times a week) and I just don’t believe that I could bring myself to fuck that up, not when there are other ways.

Is that so wrong? Does no one else feel that way?

I worry about what’s going to happen in the next few years if my boyfriend and I are still together; this could well become a dealbraker. He’s already 30, while I’m only 22 and just reaching the end of my university schooling. While he’s far from being in any kind of position (economically, anyway – he barely makes enough to support himself and shares an apartment with hid dad), he’s at “that age” where he’s going to start wanting to settle down. Maybe he doesn’t realize what he’s saying, but I noticed the first time he said “when” instead of “if I have kids”. We’ve talked about it, hypothetically, and he knows I’m not keen on the whole “birthing” thing, but he’s “down” with adoption, too. I’ve expressed my negative desire for motherhood in a number of subtle ways (hell, I don’t even like the idea of marriage, which is practically step one to “starting a family”) to him, and I think he gets it, but I still worry its going to be a problem way sooner than I think. I love him, I really do, but under no circumstances will I be coerced into bearing children in order to stay with him.

I think I’d almost be relieved to find out I was infertile.

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