To Be A Woman

Guest Post by LynnS
Ireland

"It is insulting and condescending, not to mention untrue, to claim that a childfree person is somehow incapable of understanding and experiencing the depth and variety of emotion a childed person does."

Last month, I bumped into an old friend of mine I hadn't seen for several months. She looked pale and haggard and a good deal thinner. I suggested we go for lunch to catch up. On our way to the cafe, she told me that she'd taken a leave of absence from her job to care for her elderly father, who'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. All I could do was listen as she confided in me about her father's deteriorating condition - she was finding it increasingly difficult to care for him though she's a nurse, yet she wouldn't hear of him being put into a home.

In the meantime, two women were at the table behind us - one of them had a baby aged about six months. I couldn't help overhearing the mother say to her friend "You don't know what exhaustion or sacrifice is till you've had a baby".

Uhmmm . . . excuse me? Isn't what my friend doing a sacrifice? She also looked pretty exhausted to me!

I was offended by her comments but it got me thinking. Why do some parents feel the need to hijack emotions in this manner? It's not just exhaustion or sacrifice the childfree apparently don't understand.

It's unconditional love. It's true happiness. It's selflessness. It's responsibility.

What does this mean?

Are we to believe that our own experiences and feelings pale in comparison to those of parents? Are we to believe that every life experience, no matter how good or bad, no matter how ordinary or extraordinary, can't possibly compete with the exalted state of parenthood?

As for parents themselves, why are they so quick to dismiss and invalidate their lives pre-children?

Irritating as this is, there's something else which disturbs me: the sometimes spoken, sometimes implied belief that you have not fully lived life until you become a parent.

The belief that as a childfree person, you are in a state of arrested emotional development. The belief that raising children is the only worthwhile thing doing in life. The belief that simply by reproducing you automatically become a complete person. The belief that children are necessary to allow you to fulfill your potential as a human being - which includes living through the whole gamut of human emotion.

Hogwash, I say.

Parental hijacking also makes me suspicious. If you are at peace with the decisions you make, it should not be necessary to "big yourself up" by dismissing and invalidating your life pre-children. It is insulting and condescending, not to mention untrue, to claim that a childfree person is somehow incapable of understanding and experiencing the depth and variety of emotion a childed person does. It is not the job of the child to help you fulfill your potential. That responsibility is yours and yours alone.


Technorati Tag: Childfree

Motherhood After 40? Nope!

I was interviewed for a news piece about the childfree vs. parents in the workplace six years ago. Not long after the piece aired, I was at a roller rink I used to skate at regularly. Upstairs in the rink was a bar for those 21 years and older. The concession stand on the first floor was closed, so I went to the bar to get a soft drink. The bartender, who I knew, gave me a look. "You said you hated kids on TV," he said. Several who were standing nearby stared at me. "I didn't say that," I told him. "I said I didn't want any." It was the same difference, according to him. He was always bragging about his kids, and stating he would have many more if he could afford to support more.

"She told everyone in Chicago that she hates children," he announced to the other patrons. "What?" one woman said in astonishment. "I have several and I love them." It is always at least one woman who has to declare how wonderful children are in a vain attempt to convince someone else to join her in the "joys" of motherhood. "How old are you?" the bartender asked. I was 38 then. "You'll change your mind when you're 40." he said. I'm now 44 years old.

Why in the heck would I want to have a child after 40? Common sense would dictate that if I wanted to be a parent, I should have had them before I was thirty and not far away from youth. It is foolishness to start a family in middle-age when the golden years are closer than they have ever been. I'm going to deal with kids in the midst of worrying about financing my retirement and perhaps while battling with menopause? Doesn't sound like a good mix to me.

I see articles all the time about women who opted to become parents in their middle years. The comments are all the same, "I feel fulfilled", "This is the best time of my life", "The baby is my little miracle", blah, blah. What were they thinking? I would assume if you have a toddler and you're twenty-five, you have a lot more energy to chase after it, then you do at forty-five. I also understand that older mothers are often left out like the weird kid on the playground when they are among younger moms. The younger moms and dads lives don't look like that of ol' mama and papa at that point. Not a lot of common ground between the two, I'm guessing. Plus the other older moms' kids are not in diapers anymore; in fact, some of those women have grandchildren now.

I'm used to being able to get up and go, do what I want, and come back when I feel like it. I've been doing it for a long time. Why would I suddenly stop that for 2:00 AM feedings?

Seen At The Nursing Home

My late sister was a nurse's aide. She held down two jobs at two different nursing homes. She would tell me stories about some of the patients who would wait in vain for people, usually their children, to visit them.

One of the saddest stories my sister ever told me was when a patient passed away. The RN on duty put a call in to the patient's son. He told the RN to throw the body in potter's field, because he didn't care, and hung up in her face.

Another example of the fact that having children does not guarantee that they will be there to look after one when the winter years come in.