First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage...

Over lunch with my family yesterday, the topic of babies came up. When I told my grandma about us not planning on having children, she replied with a mix of surprise and disapproval in her voice, "then why do you bother getting married?!"

The no-win situation:
  • When you're dating they say you should get married
  • When you're married they say you should have a kid
  • When you have a kid they say you should have more
  • When you want no kids they ask why you bother with marriage
I don't want kids. This shouldn't be a difficult concept to grasp but I'm met with shock and awe each time someone finds that out for the first time, as if it's some heinous crime I plan to commit. I've actually known this for a long time, but no one took me seriously at age 16. I thought the dismissals would die down as I got older, but instead folks are now rushing to save me from myself before my eggs fossilize. I have many logical reasons why I do not want to be a mother that I used to defend my decision with. But now more than ever, at the half-past-ripe age of 30, I am not only tired of giving justifications that never seem to suffice, I am a little irritated for constantly being told that this very personal decision I (and now we) have made is the wrong one. There is even talk of a pool amongst my co-workers to bet on when I will be pregnant. I wish I could get in on it, but 'never' is apparently not a betting option.

I actually LOVE babies, but much prefer OPBs (other people's babies). You know, the kind you can just play with for a couple of hours and then return to their parents for the diaper change? We are surrounded by OPBs and we visit them as much as we can. With all our friends having babies and us getting married, the question of "When are you having yours?" often comes up and is usually followed by the "Oh you'll change your mind" after our response. I understand that most people find procreation a necessary part of life (and I'm glad they do since that results in adorable OPBs!), but I am having a difficult time with people's innate judgment against our decision. No one knows better than ourselves whether parenting life is right for us. This choice (of whether to have / when to have / how many to have) should not only be up to us, but I feel it is one that also deserve support and respect! Am I alone?


  1. Egh. You're getting married because YOU ARE IN LOVE! Marriage does not designate kids. I'm sorry, but that is ridic and I'm sorry you even have to deal with that shiz!!

    On another note, I'm dealing with crappy people who have decided that because we're in the same friend's circle, wedding planning has now become a competition. I'm SO serious.

    "WAIT!? Kate's doing cupcakes!? I can't do cupcakes now because I wanted to be the ONLY ONE to do cupcakes at my wedding."

    Breaking News Sister: Neither of us are the first to serve cupcakes at a wedding.

    Egh. It's so much worse than that, but I won't even honor it by talking about it.

    People are crappy sometimes.

  2. When I was back in Sac, I had three of those "Do you have kids yet?" type questions within a few hours. I should just start telling people I'm barren, and hopefully that will spread. (I'm not really, but is it really THAT bad that we've waited three years so far to have a kid, and *gasp* I'm already 30?)

  3. OMG. Sing it, Sister!

    My lack of desire for babies has been a HUGE point of contention in our relationship. A few years ago, when we were deciding whether to end things because of it, I did some google searches and found some ANGRY sounding people publishing anti-kid rants. I didn't identify with them at all. They worked so hard at explaining their position that they were defensive and desperate sounding. I don't hate kids, I just don't want them. I never have. I never played house growing up, I don't swoon over baby clothes, I just am not interested in them.

    The most infuriating argument I ever received was from my mother, "Oh, Tina, you can have one." Like it's something that I can just pop out for kicks and then not have to take care of and worry about for the next 50 years. Trust me, I wish that I was dying for one. It would make life a lot easier.