Me, Myself and I

I came across this article on the Times website, which discussed the rise in couples deciding to remain 'child-free' rather than 'childless'. Now, the two terms have very different implications: 'child-free' suggests that not having a family is a lifestyle choice, like sugarfree cola or sweets. 'Childless' says that the couple haven't had children yet, and had better get back in the bedroom quick-quick, as opposed to not being able to conceive (which, in another context, that can also mean).

It got me thinking about my own situation, as recently I met someone whose attitude to children is very much like mine: they're OK in small doses, but neither of us could eat a whole one.

I'm now 27, and have 4 nieces aged 13 - 21, and 5 nephews aged 8 - 26. When my eldest niece was born, I was six. Some of my most treasured childhood memories include holding her for the first time (and nearly dropping her), feeding her, changing her bottom, playing horsey with her and watching her take her first steps; and as I got older more babies came along. So I was basically doing bits of all the things parents do, minus bringing them into existence and paying the bills.

Throughout all that, I never once thought, 'Hey, I'd like to do this one day. This is alright, you know.'

Raising children, to me, is tiring, fraught with worry, lots of fun, rewarding, expensive and time consuming to the nth degree. You can learn as much from children as they do from you. They can age you, but also keep you young (the teens are the reason I know who JME is).
Can't say I'm overly keen on the idea of swollen ankles, piles, stretch marks and sore nipples/sagging tits, either. I can achieve those without any outside assistance, thanks.

But you know what? When you turn up at the school gates and all the kids know who you are because your niece/nephew/godchild talks endlessly about you, when they make you howl with laughter at their antics, draw pictures to tell you how much they love you; bring you pilfered donuts from work, do your hair, trust you enough to share personal things with you that they wouldn't tell mum or dad, devise a running program for you, or break away from their mates and run down the road to embrace you when they spot you out shopping, that cannot fail to melt your heart.

It makes all the tears and tantrums worthwhile; I love those kids to bits and although sometimes they drive me mad, I don't stop bloody going on about them.

That said, having children is not part of my life plan in any way whatsoever. It never has been and I'm pretty sure it never will. You can't rule anything out in this life, but it's more or less certain for me.

Does that make me selfish? Fuck, yeah, it makes me selfish. Does it make me a bad person? No.

I don't want to have to worry about a child. Nor do I want a partner who behaves like one, either. And I drew both of those conclusions from my own experience.
People say that this world is 'too violent' to bring children into, but it's a silly reason not to have kids - a fair point if you live in Darfur or Baghdad, perhaps. If you live in Purley, then shut it.

At a soiree a few years ago, I got talking to a woman who'd gone through IVF to conceive. When she asked if if I had any children of my own, I told her that I wasn't interested in having any, and she was shocked. How could I not want children? she asked. After all, that's why we are put on the earth.

If you look at it from a purely biological point of view, then I suppose she has a point. You are born, you reproduce and you die. Circle of life, innit? But unlike a plant or an animal, I can make a conscious choice not to procreate, and I shouldn't be demonised for it. I suppose that for a woman who had been through so much to have her beloved son, hearing someone say they want no part of parenthood is a little sour to the taste.

Men also don't quite know how to handle this, either. I've been told that I 'haven't met the right man yet', but my response is that the right man would feel the same way as me. In a relationship it's a deal-breaker, so if I was asked by my partner to consider starting a family, I'd sooner walk away than go through something I didn't feel at all comfortable with, no matter how much I loved him. I don't think I'd be a bad parent, far from it; but whatever sporadic and feeble maternal urges I have are spent on my sibling's kids, and that really is OK with me.

In fact, my eldest niece was asked by a mutual friend of ours why I hadn't had children with my (ex) partner. Her response? 'She's got us kids already and is happy with that.'

Then there's the whole age thing. I'm still hanging on to the under-30s by my painted fingernails, but I know enough to know my own mind by now. It's not as if I want to be sterilised, but women my age tend to be discouraged from having any contraceptive implants that last longer than 5 years, despite the fact that they alone know what they want. I detect a faint whiff of 'being dictated to'.

Because of personal experience, I can empathise with women who have been at the 'either/or' crossroads. I don't feel superior in any way to those who want to have children but don't know how to fit them into their lives before it's 'too late', and I don't feel inferior to those super mums who juggle careers, popping out babies in lunch meetings or somesuch. I don't (and shouldn't) feel sorry for those who give up promising careers - willingly and maybe even happily - to devote more time to their children, as my own mum did that for me and my siblings; I really admire her for it. You make these decisions, and you do what you feel is best under the circumstances.

As for my biological clock, I feel nothing at all.

Another question that's raised is 'who will look after you in old age?'. That's not a good reason to have children either! That's tantamount to 'Why have a dog, and bark yourself?'
If I live long enough to be able to retire, care should only be an issue if I am in poor health - and there are ways and means of being taken care of.

So yes - remaining child-free a selfish decision, but it's mine to make. I wouldn't dream of dissing someone who loved children and wanted to have a house full of babies, any more than they should declare me a blot on humanity for not wanting the same thing. What I want, and what YOU want, may be two different things and that's all they are: different. I'll respect your decision, but it's only fair that you also respect mine.