Sunday, September 06, 2009

Why I Won't Be Makin' Any Babies

I am not having children.
It is not my feminist declaration nor is it a political statement about the importance of population control.
I simply think that I would be an awful mother.
When I imagine all the ways it could be, it starts so lovely. A beautiful child...maybe a girl...with dirty blond hair and eyes like emeralds with a quiet curiosity about everything. She'll be smart...but what parent has ever thought of their child as average or even *gasp* anything other than an Einstein in the making. She'll be articulate, even at a young age, and charming. But she would also have empathy. She would see something that was wrong and want to fix it...she might grow up to become an environmental activist or a advocate for human rights.
I suppose this is the first problem in my "plan."
Children don't grow up to be what you want them to be. I can't pick what personality traits they have or what flaws of mine they inherit. What if I have a child and he or she inherits my nose, or abundance of earwax or my cornucopia of mental neurosis? Would I love my child any less if, instead of the new unique life I wanted to create, I ended up with just a tiny version of me?
I think this is my second fear.
What if I don't love my child?
What if motherhood turns me into a bitter monster that makes me hate my husband (and all men) and ruins our relationship, which in turn make me regret my child? What if motherhood makes me insane?
I don't want to end up one of those woman on the 10pm news that shot her husband in his sleep and then drown her children in the bathtub, all while telling everyone God told her to do it.

I know I don't owe anyone an explanation as to my personal choices. I suppose this post is more for me than anyone else...a visualisation of my thoughts for this moment in time.
Who knows?
I might feel differently tomorrow.

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