Baby Whoa's

Whoa. That's what I want to say to people when they ask me if I have kids. "Whoa".

Or any variation like "Easy there" or "Slow your role, partner".

There is SO much pressure to start a family after you've gotten married. It's ridiculous. I'll never forget the first time I heard it said to me. It was when Chris and I "got engaged" (we had really already been married but we didn't tell anyone until later on... I should probably post about that?)...ANYWAY! The two of us were at an anniversary party for my great aunt and uncle. I had been use to the "AGH! Let me see the ring!" and the ever popular "How did he propose?!". Then, from somewhere in the crowd, the ooh's and ahh's subsided and a random relative turned the tides. When I first heard "So when are you guys having kids?!", I'm pretty sure my brain went vacant for a moment. Kids?! Seriously?! I had just already decided to make a life long commitment to another human being and now you want me to CREATE a human being to make yet ANOTHER life long commitment to? Seriously... whoa.

I guess I've never thought to question people's motives so the idea of asking someone when or if they plan to start a family has never crossed my mind. I never grew up with this concept that life had a beat to follow. Until I got engaged, I never thought of any sort of plan that people had for how they were organizing their life. I'm coming to learn that the people who think the opposite of that, however, are the ones who ask you where YOUR kids are and whose eyes pop out of their head when you tell them you aren't planning on any. I actually had an ex question the legitimacy of my relationship with Chris because I haven't been wanting a family. See what I mean? Again, whoa.



I have to admit that the pressure isn't just coming from other people. It may stem from peer pressure, but I sometimes catch myself muddling over the reason I'm not having kids and then end up pressuring myself. Sometimes a baby will smile at me from its stroller at the mall, my heart will melt, and I swear I can feel my ovaries release an egg. And if I happen to pass by a Gymboree at that exact moment, it's game over and I start contemplating baby names. It makes me wonder if my surge of estrogen is that "maternal clock" I apparently keep hitting snooze on or if it's all just pressure to conform.

It's only when I realize that a baby's car seat would look really crappy in my bright orange two-door Tiburon that I realize it was all just pressure.

That isn't the ONLY reason, of course. (But you have to admit that's a good one.) What I hate more than the pressure is the judgement. Those "life choice questioners", no matter how many great reasons you give them, they always chalk it up to selfish. Sure, I'm not stupid, you can spin all my own reasons into "selfish" if you wanted. I don't want a pregnancy janking up my body. I like nice furniture. I like spending alone time with my husband. I like peace and quiet. I like loud parties in my home. I like the occasional lunch that goes so long it turns into dinner and then drinks and ends well into the night. And I suppose the most "selfish" reason of all is:

I DON'T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF A BABY.

Is that so wrong? I mean, sure, it looks bad when I put it all in caps like that, but does it really make me a horrible person? No, I think not. I read an article that said 68% of women are more irritated than concerned when their babies wake up crying in the middle of the night. A shocking 91% of divorced women believed that their marriages could have possibly been salvaged had they not had children to contend with. I believe that. Chris and I fight loudly a lot of the time. We're passionate and short tempered, but it works for us and we always work it out. It's hard for me not to yell when I'm mad or for Chris to not scream profanities and throw things when he's losing a video game. When Chris' son comes into town, (which is only once every two months) we play nice, of course, but it never feels normal. If we had to zip our lip ALL the time like that because of our own children, I'm convinced we'd never resolve issues. Instead, we'd silently begin to resent the other and would ultimately smother the other with a pillow.



The final thing I don't understand about all this baby pressure is the infamous motto of a "life-choice questioner". Drum roll, please...

Being a mom is the hardest job in the whole world.

...Ok! You win! I always thought cleaning up dead bodies from crime scenes would be the hardest, but I promise, I'm taking your word for it! With that said, how can someone possibly say that infamous line and in the same breath question why I'm not signing up to do it?!

Baby Enforcer: "Hi, would you like to do the HARDEST job in the world and only be paid in unconditional love?"

Me: "Well, that love part sounds good, but, hardest job in the WORLD? I'm going to pass..."

Baby Enforcer: *head explodes from confusion*


So listen everyone, I don't know when or if I'm going to have a baby. Sometimes I envision what Chris and my baby would look like, but that could just be the grown-up version of doodling his last name as mine on a trapper keeper. Sometimes I imagine baby names. Mostly though, I enjoy the silence, a midday beer, and sex in the kitchen whenever I want...

...and if that's so wrong, I don't want to be right.