Sitting in a room awash with pink and frills, I listen to a dozen or so women coo over piles of comically small clothing and random bits of baby paraphernalia.
For women of a certain age, this quickly becomes a staple in one’s social calendar. Whether or not one enjoys such events is inconsequential. Inevitably, once the gifts have been opened and the games have been played, the women gather around a table of crust-free sandwiches and engage in conversation about “who’s next.”
This question, when posed to me, routinely ends in minor arguments, unsolicited advice or blank stares, as my reply is always that I am not certain I want to have children. This answer is the social equivalent of sprouting a third eye.
It’s not that I hate children, in fact my job as a teacher is one that requires me to work with them daily. It’s just that I am not sure that I need to have one to call my own. Like many other people, I know children have their adorable moments and I can imagine the endless joy that one could bring to a family. It is just that I can also imagine the endless joy that the absence of one could bring.
I’ve been bombarded with such seemingly helpful comments as, “It’s different when it’s your own” and “You’d make a great mother.” However, if I am not sure that I want them, is it not a risky experiment to find out the hard way that I don’t? Regardless of whether or not I’d be a great mother or that it might be different, I am not certain that having a child is the best way to arrive at that realization.
There are innumerable pleasures to be had in this world and having a child is not necessarily the trump card when it comes to a happy and complete life. Some may argue that I will never know love, as the love one has for their child is the deepest and purest form of all. This may be true. I am unable to fully imagine the love one would have for a child just as I am unable to imagine the exhilaration of winning an Academy Award, but I am not less of a person for lacking in those experiences. Perhaps I will miss out on understanding a certain form of love, but that in no way discredits the love that I do feel in my life as any less than deep and pure.
At 30, I am surrounded by love in my daily life. I have an adoring husband, a wonderful family, and friends that I am blessed to know. I have a job that I enjoy and which brings me a sense of fulfilment and satisfaction. My two dogs are a constant source of laughter and joy, and have often allowed me to replicate the sleepless nights, worry and pride of parenthood. I do not feel that I am missing a piece of myself or am limiting my life experiences by not adding another branch to the family tree. I am simply living my life in the manner most fulfilling to me.
I enjoy my life of dinners out and travel to far-off destinations. I value my free time and ability to fill it with whatever I choose. I cherish my happy marriage and time spent with family and friends. I take comfort in knowing that I am financially secure. I know that having a child would not necessarily result in the loss of any of these things, but I am not necessarily looking to add anything else to my roster.
One might say that I am choosing to lead a life of selfishness by indulging in what many would consider to be frivolities. I, on the other hand, feel it would be selfish of me to bring a child into this world to fill a void of potential regret or fear. The decision to have a child should, in my opinion, be based on the sole desire to raise that child to become the person they choose. It should not be clouded in the worry of being lonely in one’s old age or the fear that one may come to regret the decision once they are no longer able to bear a child.
I respect and perhaps am even slightly jealous of all those who desire nothing more than to be parents. It is a wonderful gift to bring a child into a loving home, one that will fill countless albums, result in hilarious stories and bring warm memories to parents in their old age. It is not my desire at this point in my life to go down that road. Perhaps it never will be. It is however, my desire not to be made to feel inferior or unusual because I am currently choosing to be childfree.
I would never dare berate someone for being overweight or disastrously in debt. In return, I would like to be able to proclaim my life choices without fear of an onslaught of personal opinion and judgment.
I will joyfully celebrate the decisions others have made of bringing a baby into this world by sitting in rooms draped in pastels, playing corny shower games and fawning over the comically small clothing. All I ask in return is that you celebrate, with polite acknowledgment and silence, my decision not to bring a baby into this world.
Leah Eden lives in Burlington.
