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Lately, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about children and probably not in the way my mum would hope. Last Sunday, we spent the afternoon with Jared’s family for his mother’s birthday and, as per usual, there were children cutting around. Only two this time (usually there are four) but goddamn if they didn’t make up for it. And then some. At one point, the kids were so noisy (well, one kid mainly) that I actually felt disoriented and a bit unwell. I don’t know if it’s a certain pitch they hit when they yell or what but I just can’t deal with it. It makes my head feel like it’s going to explode.

I’ve been on birth control since I was 16 and, since I was about 17, I’ve been fairly confident I don’t want children. When I say this, I get the usual “oh, just wait” spiel like and other people are in on some big joke I’m not party to. You just wait – your ovaries will explode soon and you’ll be craving babies out the wazoo. Hilarious! Well, a few months ago, I was seriously considering getting my tubes tied and every friend I spoke to about it was shocked, more so than when you just say you don’t want kids. This is permanent shit, you guys (well, for the most part anyway).

You’ll change your mind!

You’ll want one soon.

You’ll regret it.


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But I haven’t wanted a child in 17 years so why would I start now? I am one of those people that really doesn’t like children very much (and has felt this way for quite a long time) so why would that change all of a sudden? Are hormones really that powerful? I don’t know. Maybe they are. I don’t look at any of my parent friends and think, “Gee, that looks like the life for me.” They look fucking tired, miserable or stressed (and sometimes all three) or their kids are little assholes. With the exception of maybe one or two, it looks like a downright deplorable situation. Yuck. In fact, I coined a new term over the weekend; children are now only to be known as fun prophylatics. You like it? I think it’s hilarious and also perfectly on point. But I suppose some of us have to be adults and continue the species.

I’ve since given up on getting my tubes tied. Apparently, it’s not a great surgery for women to have (much easier for men to get the snip, which I know Jared would never agree to) plus I would still get my period, which I like to avoid at all costs. I suppose I’ll just plod along with the pill. At 18 years, it’s the longest committed relationship I’ve ever had and it’s with a pharmaceutical that keeps me good and barren. And I’m ok with that. Well done, Microgynon whatever number you are. Pat yourself on the back. You did good.

And to all the people who like to trot out the old ‘but you’d make a great mother!’ line, I say this: no. I’m an ok mother to my dog but I’d suck at being a parent to a real life human. No patience. Intense desire for peace and quiet. Lust for fun and freedom. Prone to flights of fancy and spontaneity. No, that’s a lie. I’m very much a plan-it-out-three-months-in-advance type of gal. But hey, a kid’ll fuck that shit up too. And yes, of course I know having a kid makes many, many people very happy, even if it does make them tired or occasionally miserable or nostalgic for their old life. But I don’t think it would make me happy. I think I would be one of those women who would regret it and, knowing how dismal my pokerface is, any poor fucking kid I popped out of my vagina would definitely know it. And that’s not fair.

The End.



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