indecisive decisionmaker

Why would you think that?!

2006-03-17T14:24:00.000-05:00

I remember the first time one of my sisters told me that a woman (friend of the family) had mentioned that she thought my husband and I wouldn't have kids. I don't generally have a high regard for what she thinks of me, so it's not as if someone whose opinion I value had said it. It was just that anyone could say it at all. Why on Earth would someone expect me to not have kids? At the time (this was many years ago), the thought really hadn't even crossed my mind. At that point in our lives, my husband and I just assumed that we would have kids. I was in law school. We'd only been married a short time. We were just kind of floating along the normal channels.

But somewhere along the way we started to wonder. Now, I'm certain that we didn't begin wondering because of what this woman said. In fact, I'm not sure I even told him until after we had already discussed the idea. But why would she have thought it at the time?

The more interesting question is probably Why does it bother me so much when people can fathom the thought that I wouldn't have kids? A few weeks ago, I was talking to a friend from college who I hadn't seen in a few years. Toward the end of our conversation, she asked, "When are you going to start having babies?" I was appalled. I couldn't believe she'd asked me that question. And something about the phrasing was particularly galling. But I realized later that part of my reaction was shock. No one had directly asked me that question in such a long time that it took me completely off guard. My parents or in-laws had made references, but no one had come out and asked. And I think part of my shock was at the fact that I hadn't been pressed on the issue before.

I should be grateful when people ask if instead of when or when people don't ask at all. But a piece of me is not at all grateful. It's offended. I don't call them on it because I avoid confrontation like the plague, but it hurts me a little. My reaction is a mixture of insecurities (Do they think I would be a bad mother? Is there something wrong with me that they think I would be different than what feels like the remaining 90% of my generation?) and confusion at my own lack of gratefulness.

So, at the time this woman made the statement that she thought my husband and I would not have kids, I was completely floored. It seemed totally out of left field. But now I wonder if she saw something that I hadn't yet seen. Was there something about me that made her wonder? Had I telegraphed some signal? Had I balked at holding my niece or nephew or was there something else? Was I just different from the other women she knew and so she assumed I would take a different path? And if she did see something, why wouldn't my friend have seen it? Someone who knew me well. Had I changed somewhere along the way in a way that this woman could anticipate but my friend could not? I'm not sure. Eventually, though, I'm sure that people will run out of questions (or assumptions) that surprise me.

Pet Peeve

2006-03-05T20:42:00.000-05:00

This is slightly off topic because it doesn't have much to do with my personal Decision, but I was reminded this afternoon of one of my biggest parent-related pet peeve. I call one of my sisters and leave a message. She calls back, so I assume it's a good time for her. However, every ten minutes (usually when I'm in the middle of a sentence) she's "talking" to my nephew ("yelling" would make her sound like a bad mom, which she most certainly is not, but let's face it; she's scolding him loudly). Now, I know my nephew. He's wonderful but he's a handful. He's six for crying out loud. His main purpose in life is to need attention. But don't call me when you're the only one there to watch him!!

So I guess maybe this is relevant after all. One of my biggest fears about having a kid is that I will lose all ability to focus on anything but the kid. This may sound a little extreme, but I see it (or at best, milder versions of this) all the time. I rarely have conversations with my sisters that don't in some way involve or revolve around their kids. I know kids take a lot of time and attention and I don't necessarily think it's bad parenting to put so much attention and work into them. I just don't want to lose myself or my ability to focus on other things in the process.

One More Undecided

2006-03-04T16:59:00.000-05:00

So if nothing else, I have this in common with Beyonce Knowles! (If only I could have her abs too...)

Baby Not On Board blog post titled "Childfree cavement, fighting Baptists, Destiny's Childfree and other fun stuff" posted a link to an interview with the entertainment powerhouse saying: "I love my nephew so much and I'm like, I would love to have a baby but then I keep him for a day and I'm like: 'Oh no!' I've got a long way to go."

I don't know how to do a direct link, but it wouldn't hurt you to look at her other posts anyway. It's on the side too, but here's another link to the blog: http://www.babynotonboard.com/bnobblog/

Not Alone and In Surprising Company

2006-03-04T15:36:00.000-05:00

There was a story in the NY Times last week about working women having children. There have been quite a few similarly themed stories lately from various media outlets. This most recent article wasn't particularly innovative or exciting, but it focused on working women who have children. It got me thinking about a lot of things, one of which was this feeling that I'm alone in thinking that I might not have kids. Then I got some comfort from a surprising source.

I was in a sorority in college and some friends of mine are planning a type of reunion this summer for girls who started college at about the same time. They created a website for everyone to post information about what they're doing now and to put up pictures if we wanted. There is a place for your name, job, marital status, how many children you have, etc. About 60 girls have signed up, which is pretty impressive in itself. But the surprising part is that as I was scrolling through the profiles, it seemed like a lot of them didn't mention kids. I wondered if I was just noticing those more, so I went through and tallied them. I found that more than half mentioned no children.

I have to say that even though I wouldn't classify our members as a "typical" southern/midwestern sorority girls, I was surprised. Granted, it's possible that some people just chose not to fill that part of the profile, but that seems unlikely. And I know that a lot of women are waiting longer to get married and to have children, so many of these women may still plan to have kids. But it was nice to know I'm not the only one who hasn't jumped on that band wagon.

Even more surprising was that there didn't seem to be a major trend in the jobs of the women with or without kids. There were attorneys, teachers, information specialist, etc. in both categories. So, just a little more evidence that I'm not so alone after all. I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised. After all, there was something that drew me to this particular organization and something about me that caused them to choose me. I suppose I just didn't realize how deep it went.

Is Everything Working In There?

2006-03-03T13:16:00.000-05:00

I think that just about every woman at one point or another wonders if everything on the inside is doing what it is supposed to do. Some people focus on it and obsess - think hypochondriac - and others put it in a category of passing curiosity - similar to the way you wonder what on Earth is really in some of these diet foods with no sugar, caffeine, or calories. Maybe it's because we can't really see things. Maybe it's because we hear about horrible things on the news all the time. Maybe it's some self-dramatizing characteristic that we see ourselves playing the lead (or at least supporting role) in a Lifetime drama.

Most of the time it's unfounded and can be explained by one of the above. Other times, though, our concern, curiosity, or full-blown fear is justified by some physical symptom. A lot of these turn out to be false alarms. But others end up being really bad. And it's the possibility that it could be really bad that keeps us going to the doctor once a year. That, and the fact that we can't get those cute little pills if we don't.

As someone who was on the light end of a real scare, and someone who probably has a tendency to dramatize herself, I can say that I'm forever paranoid. Whether due to my own characteristics or, at least in part, due to the way my treatment was explained (or, more appropriately not at all explained), I get anxious before I go to the doctor each year. It isn't something that i realize until after I've finished my appointment, but there is a tension. I'm just waiting for her to tell me that it's all gone to hell.

With that background, it isn't surprising that I often wonder about whether I am able to have kids. My sisters haven't had any problem, which might make someone think that things are okay. Someone more pessimistic might worry. I didn't really have much of an opinion. But then my sister called and said she was pregnant. Great news. But absolutely, 100%, completely a surprise. This is her third (yes, this is my youngest sister) and she had just been saying that she thought they would stop with two after all. If nothing else, she wasn't planning on getting pregnant for awhile. But there she was on the phone telling me she was pregnant. After two months of taking the pill again.

That story can strike fear in a lot of women's hearts. For those of us who aren't as religious about taking the things, "fear" doesn't quite capture it. But this time, I felt a mixture of new emotions. First, I was a little relieved. My theory now was that if I was supposed to have a kid, I'd get pregnant. Clearly the pill wasn't a hindrance to my sister's ovaries, so why should it stop mine if they really wanted to reproduce. Obviously there was a power stronger than hormones at work here. I really don't need to decide anything after all. Then I felt a little scared at that thought. For all my indecisiveness, I like to be in control. Finally, I felt a little inferior and a little worried that there might be something wrong. Does the fact that my sister is overly fertile mean that I can't have kids? If she can get pregnant on the pill, why haven't I?

Obviously there are lots of biological things at work here. First off, she has had two kids and I have not had any. Second, she had been back on the pill only for a few months. While I tend to screw up and forget what day it is (resulting in no pill for a day or two), it's safe to say I've been on the pill for a bit more than 2 months. But what this flash of emotions made me realize is that I really do wonder if I'm able to have kids. Part of it is pure paranoia akin to hypochondria (though I don't at all pretend to be afflicted with that very real condition). And part of it stems from the inability to talk to my doctor, which is sad.

I'm pretty sure I'm healthy. I'm pretty sure I remember my doctor saying as much last year when we had our rondezvous. But it's been awhile and I always start to wonder. A part of me thinks this would be much easier if I couldn't have kids. But another part of me doesn't want to try in case I can't. Reacting to "I probably couldn't if I tried" and "I've tried and I can't do it on my own" are very different things. I much prefer the former. Which is why a part of me says, let's not test this. Just in case. Unless you're positive that you really, really want a kid, let's not confirm or deny this sneaking suspicion that you can't. Because knowing that you can't might really convince you that you want to. If nothing else, it opens a whole new can of worms to deal with. And worms freak me out.

Redux Continued: The Chameleon

2006-02-26T13:03:00.000-05:00

I remember once my husband telling me a story about someone's girlfried, wife, fiance, or ex-something that he didn't like. He was saying that she was always changing depending on her surroundings. If she was with this group of people, she was more artsy. When she moved to Dallas, she became the Dallas socialite. And so on. I immediately felt defensive of her. And I immediately knew why.

She was a chameleon. And, I said, this is a personality in its own right, isn't it? I mean, why can't you say that the ability to shift and to absorb the interests of those around you is valid in its own way. What's so wrong with flexibility?

I was so quick to defend the Chameleon because to a very large extent I was one. I've always taken on characteristics of those around me. We all do it to some extent, but I think I do so more than most others. Maybe it's the people-pleaser gene, but that's how I've always been.

Is there anything wrong with this? Not necessarily. Obviously when taken to an extreme it seems very unhealthy. (I'm not a mental health professional or other counselor but it just seems like a lot of after school specials involved extreme chameleonism.) But in moderated doses, even strong doses, is it such a horrible thing to be able to mesh with different groups of people?

I think what bothered my husband was the contradictory nature of this particular Chameleon. It's one thing to be versatile and have a wide array of interests (whether independent or shared with and inspired by others) but it's quite another to flap in the wind.

Another problem with chameleonism, though, is deciding what to do when you're not surrounded by strong willed people. Or, for that matter, not surrounded by people at all. What do you do when you're off on by yourself? How do you decide what to eat or which book to read? I think that's what I was feeling the other day. I've had quite a bit of alone time recently or at least time that I felt I was alone, and I think this is what I was butting up against Friday.

What color is a Chameleon when she's by herself?

Psycho Redux

2006-02-26T12:57:00.000-05:00

So I'm feeling a bit better today. Given the time to attempt self-psychoanalsis (as opposed to psychosis), I think I'm just struggling with what I want to be when I grow up. Not just in the career sense, but more of who I want to be when I grow up. It makes sense in a way. I'm almost 30. I've prettymuch exhausted every logical degree so that going back to school probably is not in my future. I work a lot, but I've grown accustomed to it and I'm figuring out how to work more efficiently so it isn't as overwhelming. Basically, I'm at the point where I'm used to saying, "Okay, what next?" And there isn't a logical progression. Really for the first time it's just up to me. And I'm not sure where I want to go.

I haven't figured out any answers but just knowing what process I'm wrapped up in makes it a little easier to stand.

Regressing

2006-02-24T13:20:00.000-05:00

Every time I feel like I'm making progress toward a decision, I have a day like today. A day where I wonder what in the hell I am supposed to be doing, why I have no idea what the arguments even are in favor of and against having a kid, and if I'm the only one on Earth who has these thoughts. I don't have the energy to fully psychoanalyze myself to figure out what might be triggering this meltdown. It's taking all the energy I have to control it and/or melt. Either way I have nothing left over.

Why is it that so many of my friends and colleagues don't seem to struggle at all with this decision? Is it that they just went with the norm without questioning? Do they have some instinct that I don't and, if so, should that indicate anything one way or the other?

If I come at this from the perspective of justifying why to have a kid, what are the arguments? I've honestly never heard the religious argument apart from a statement that we should go forth and populate the Earth. That's a directive, not an argument, and coming from the pastor who secretly had an affair with the church secretary, it's not necessarily one I'm willing to accept. Someone want to point me to more definitive authorities? Is it solely to fulfill my life? If so, are there other things I should be considering as alternatives? It is just to continue my DNA? I'm not particularly impressed with my DNA, and my family has done its fair share of continuation so is it really necessary for me to do more?

Why was there no class on this in high school or why didn't we cover this in my sorority? It was important enough to tell us about diseases and eating disorders and which fork to use when, but this wasn't worth a session? Why have I never REALLY had discussions about this with my friends? They all just seem to either pop out kids or they're not yet expected to do so.

Why are the only relatively new books I've seen published on this subject filed in humor and focused more on the myriad of reasons why, once you've chosen to not have children, you should be happy about your decision? Am I the only one struggling with this issue currently? Why are all the internet boards I've seen about this either abandoned or empty? Why does it seem like no one else is struggling the way I feel I am?

If having a kid is supposed to fill some purpose and give your life meaning, but you can choose an alternative purpose, what should mine be? Do I have to throw myself into a career if I don't have a kid? Do I want to? If I want to support my husband's life goals does that make me too dependent? Does that make me less of a person? Does it count?

I can't make decisions if I don't have logic and arguments. That's just how I work. I can't find logic and argument either because I'm a moron who simply can't see it or it's not there. Is this a decision that can be make on logic and arguments or should there be some gut instinct that tells me what to do? What does it mean if I don't have that gut feeling? Is it there and I'm just not listening?

Exhale.

Venus and Mars

2006-02-10T07:41:00.000-05:00

I haven't read the book Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus but I know that my husband and I come at this issue from opposite perspectives. But it isn't really a male/female difference. It's more of a rebel/conformist or individualist/people pleaser gene that each of us has. Combined with the fact that he's the creative guy with a million different ways of "giving back" or making his mark on society, it puts us on opposite ends of the decisionmaking process.

His view is that the need to procreate comes from some type of genetic need to lengthen our imprint on the world. The most common way to do that is to have a child. However, that's not the only way. Having come to that conclusion, he continues the debate from the standpoint of trying to justify why he should have a child. I, on the other hand, take the fact that other people want us to have a kid as establishing the fact that we should and so I try to justify why I shouldn't. For a person who is used to being praised, has a strong to desire to please others, and has been programmed to try to over-achieve, this can be difficult. Because when I boil it all down, most of the reasons I come up with for not having a child (while I still believe they have merit and some days they are quite convincing) are essentially self-serving.

The theoretical idea of having a child is great. It makes me smile and feel all warm and fuzzy to think about seeing my husband holding a baby or playing in the park, or to imagine a wedding or seeing your own child succeed at something. But those images don't last long. They're quickly replaced by the visions of not being able to spend all our disposable income on us, not being able to go out to dinner, traveling less, etc. (I'll spare myself the horror of reliving some of the visions of pregnancy and labor.) Maybe it's a by-product of waiting so long and seeing so many real babies. Or maybe it's an indication of where my true feelings lie, but the point is that all of those things feel selfish. I know that people say it's selfish to have a child you're not sure you want, but I have complete confidence that I would have no feelings of regret or harbor any animosity against a child. But this is coming at the idea from the standpoint of trying to justify why to be childfree.

If I try to come at it from my husband's perspective and justify why having a child should be the way that I leave my mark on the world, it's hard to get there as well. I have plenty of nieces and nephews to whom I could contribute. Not to mention the non-child-rearing ways I could contribute to the world. So where does that leave me? Luckily, I think I'm standing in the middle with my husband.

Furthering the Cause

2006-01-27T14:01:00.000-05:00

Warning: This is not meant to be any type of feminist rant, but I am prone to ranting and I am feminine. It's really just my analysis and you might be a little surprised at where I end up. Or maybe not. Also, a disclaimer: My view is my own and is limited to what I've experienced, read, or heard about from others. There are some amazing firms out there that may truly accomodate women and work out arrangements that benefit both sides. I am in the midwest in a mid-market firm. I love my firm, just like I love my family. Neither is perfect. I can't imagine that any place that would be a better over all fit for me and this is not a discussion only of my firm's policies, but also policies that I have seen at a number of firms and in the legal market in general. Finally, I'm sure there are inequities that I perceive but don't really exist. Now, enjoy the show.

One of the things that has really been bothering me in this whole decision is how to fit my career into the picture. When I started looking hard at the issues involved, they shaped up in ways I never imagined they would.

I started with the general premise that working (especially in the legal field) is more of a challenge once you have a child. There are competing priorities: Junior's baseball game vs. Client meetings, or General Together Time vs. Hours Necessary to Become Partner. This is all very familiar ground and the general premise is that wanting a career tends to dissuade women from having children. This is particularly true in the case of female attorneys. Three choices seem to present themselves: First, have a child and retire from law altogether. Second, have a child and cut back or go "part time." Third, skip the kid and go straight to the corner office. And of course the super woman dream, which tends to disappear once you're actually in the trenches. (Quick note on "part time" - It's ridiculuous to use this term. Most attorneys who are "part time" work as much or more than normal full-time employees. Plus, I think it's slightly derogatory and, in the spirit of furthering the cause, I don't want to be derogatory so I'll try to avoid it.)

When I look at the women around my firm and comparable firms, almost none of them have the kid and remain/become superstars. Even if they don't officially reduce their schedule, they aren't as active and for the most part aren't as well respected. Don't get me wrong, there are women who everyone knows are great at practicing law and some of them even have kids, but they don't tend to get the same respect as their male counterparts. They typically don't sit on boards or management committees, although I have seen some very small strides in that regard. They typically aren't the first person someone thinks of when they're doling out other leadership positions and, from what I've heard, bonuses. People speak highly of these women but they do it with that fake smile and tone that we use during interviews and extended family gatherings. There's a politically correct asterix by these women's names.

The women who officially reduce their schedules have a more obvious asterix. The side effect almost always is that they are no longer on a partnership track. They've chosen to take themselves out of the hunt and no one is going to pretend that they haven't. People see a sign that says "I'm not committed to this so rely on me at your own risk. If my kid gets sick the day of the deadline, you'll be swimming upstream by yourself." And it doesn't seem very easy to recover from this characterization. From what I've seen, even after these women "come back" or go full time again, it takes so much more effort to catch up to their former peers that I can't imagine it would seem worth it. It may strike the right balance for some, but it's not a perfect solution.

The other main category of women are the ones without children. These are usually well thought of professionally, but not as revered as they may have once hoped. That's the professional context. To anyone who is not their contemporary (i.e., to the younger female associates looking for role models or some other type of guidance), these women are strange mutations of what you expect to be. Maybe it's just a strange coincidence but almost all of the women I know who fall into the childless career woman are not people with whom I can identify, even now that I'm contemplating not having a child. Maybe I need to branch out or take another look at them, but these are some of the weird people you don't want to get stuck next to at the Christmas party or, God forbid, the recruiting event. Because what are you going to talk about with them and how could you possibly explain them to a recruit?

These characterizations may be unfair in some ways, but from the bottom of the barrell looking up, it's what we can make out. So, we have the part-timers who are essentially written off, the non-breeders who a young woman that hasn't reached the same conclusion or maybe hasn't begun the childfree debate can't possibly understand, and the extraordinarily rare mothers who are trying to do it all but don't quite get the respect they might otherwise receive.

OK, now even a bit more background. I was talking to some friends of mine who are either just starting or about to begin looking for jobs on the east coast. Let me say first that the general mentality of firm life on the east coast and in the midwest are not as different as they may once have been. However, I see one (relevant) glaring difference between mid-market and large-market firms and I think it's even more pronounced when you look at mid-market firms in the midwest and large-market firms on the coast. I would say a majority of people entering the mid-market firms intend to stay at one firm their entire career, or at least can fathom the concept. If anyone is entering a large-market firm with the same idea, I would be surprised. Firm-hopping is rampant among large-market firms and even more so in the east coast offices of large-market and national firms than in the midwest. (Obviously this is just my opinion and is based on my limited experiences, but I would be surprised if someone argued me on this point.) So keep that in the back of your mind. Now add to that the fact that most women intend to have a child. The women entering the legal market tend to think they will either quit or cut back once they have a kid. This one is not just based on my own opinion and experiences. There have been a number of newspaper articles and other literature noting that most of the women at high brow educational institutions either plan to quit working when they have a child or reduce their schedules significantly when they have a child. (And I'm guessing their version of reduced is not being in the office 40 hours per week, but that's beside the point.)

So, in discussing this issue with a friend, I raised the question of the effect these women were having on the other women in the workforce (the rest of us). When law firms hire women, many of the guys in those firms think of it as a temporary hire; more so than when firms hire men. I can't count how many times I've heard someone refer to "whether she'll come back at all" when talking about a pregnant associate. And, when I think about the practicalities I can see how they might have come to that place. Asking the question isn't necessarily what bothers me. The real issue I see is the tone they take when they ask it, which is: first to assume that she won't come back; second, to imply that they knew this was going to happen so why did we hire her in the first place; and third, to imply that even if she did come back it wouldn't be at full force or it wouldn't last for long. So, I wonder if by affirming this stereotype someone who goes off to have a kid and either disappears or comes back at less than full steam is really doing the rest of us any favors. Why should they put me on a committee or spend time and other resources training me if I'm not in it for the long haul? Why should they put her on a committee when she's not likely to get excited about Saturday morning meetings? It's as if they put another hurdle for us to overcome. So I was thinking that the rest of us would be better off if they didn't enter the market in the first place.

Then I wondered, What effect does the childfree career woman have on the rest of us? (Noting that I'm not sure which "us" I belong to right now.) Is she reinforcing stereotypes of her own? By choosing (whether she actually chose her career over having a child or is just interpreted as doing so), does she make it more difficult on the women who try to do both? She operates without worrying about pediatrician appointments and school conferences. She's bound to be available more and be able to devote more time to the firm. Regardless of whether there is a real difference between her professional productivity and a mother's professional productivity, why should they put the mother on a committee when they can put this woman on instead and not worry about the issues that come with being a working parent. Of course, this assumes they might put either woman on the committee, which may be generous, but the point is still there.

In order to further the cause (beyond where it is today), do we need to prove that both can be done? Does someone need to continue carving the mold for the full-time professional who is also a mother? Part of me says yes. Part of me says that to truly advance our cause, we can't be satisfied having one or the other and we have a duty to succeed at both. Otherwise, we're no further than we are now. And another piece of me says that I have a particular duty because I have the amazing husband to do this with me. I have one of the few men in the world (although I do think their numbers are growing) who would agree to support me in this. I am uniquely qualified to carry this torch, and because of that don't I have an obligation to take it?

Then the more rationale part of me says that is the craziest thing I have heard. You can't have a child because you feel like you have a duty to further a feminist cause. It is helpful to think about the effects our decisions have on the cause because it helps us target issues and biases and find ways to confront them, but perhaps the most empowering course we can take is to remove the parenthood decision from the professional realm. In that spirit, I hereby resolve that if I decide to be a childfree career woman, I will do two things. First, I will take time off as if I had a child. I will not feel obligated to work my tail off more than necessary or appropriate simply because I don't have the excuse of going to a balet recital or soccer practice. Second, I will do my best to narrow the schism between the childfree career women and the childbearing career women. There is too much of a division there, and really we should be able to stick together.

Seriously, though, thinking through all this made me realize that this decision must be made on its own. It's just one more pressure that I think I've worked through (for the moment at least). There are a lot of issues in this post that I want to get into (whether I would be comfortable being the working parent with the more demanding job, etc.) but this one is long enough and I've found that it's better to stop while you're feeling sane and grounded. Therapy session over.

Ground Rules

2006-01-23T14:45:00.000-05:00

Here are a few of the basics: why I'm writing; why I'm not writing; what I hope to get from this. Some of this is in my initial post, but just in case someone misses that. . . .

1. I am not asking anyone to vote on whether I should or shouldn't have a kid. You can vote somewhere, somehow if you want, but just because 51% of the people who happen to find their way to this blog say I should or shouldn't isn't going to alter my life course.

2. I wouldn't mind seeing some rational, logical discussion of some of the issues I'm thinking about, assuming they're capable of being discussed rationally and/or logically. Although my main goal is to work through my thoughts (see #4), I'm happy to benefit from someone else's thoughts and experiences too.

3. I do not want to be accosted or witness the accosting of others, so please be civil. (See above re: logical and rational.)

4. I would like a forum for venting, considering some of the pros and cons, and working through some of my thoughts. This blog can be a success in my eyes regardless of whether anyone ever posts a comment.

5. I wanted to provide a discussion forum for other people considering similar decisions. As I said in my first post, I had a hard time finding books, forums, etc. Most of the literature and other forums I did find were written by/for or comprised of people who had already made their decisions. While it was helpful to see what these people were thinking and some of the books and posts I read were really quite funny, they weren't helping me work through my decision.

So, there are a few reasons why and hopefully some guidelines.

The Short (Somewhat Predictible) List

2006-01-23T14:01:00.000-05:00

So, to lay the ground work for why I'm struggling with this decision so much (apart from the fact that it is one of the most life-altering decisions a person can make), here is a short list of some of my concerns.

The short list consists of the obvious. My apologies for rehashing old familiars, but it's important to lay some groundwork and surely there are a couple of twists here you haven't considered before. For the most part, though, I recognize that these are the standbys that most people who think about the Question talk about.

Of course there is the concern that I might hit 40 and realize I've made some terrible mistake. This doesn't really concern me too much, though. I'm a pretty laid back person and I generally find a way to deal with what I'm dealt (or what I deal myself, to take some responsibility!). That said, I also tend to second guess myself and I sometimes lack confidence. So there's that.

Now, for the twist: Which decision did you think I'd consider a "mistake"? Most people probably said not having a kid. But there are just as many, and maybe more of those who are really thinking through the issue, who are afraid they'll regret having a child. My world view doesn't really allow me to imagine that I could ever really view a child as a mistake. But I could imgine (if I try really hard) that I might regret not having some of the experiences I might have without a child. It's easier to imagine waking up and wondering why I denied myself the experience of having a kid and creating my own family. Ultimately, for me, this one's kind of a non-issue, but it lingers in the background.

More of an issue, although I try my hardest to ignore and/or overcome it, is the pressure from family. Trying to make people who (obviously) decided to have children understand why I wouldn't want to do the same thing. Whether this is really a factor depends on the day. None of my family (or more accurately none of my family who really has any influence or impact on my decisions) has made a huge push. But I firmly believe that this is only because they haven't imagined that it's not just around the corner. I'm pretty sure that every time I have something to tell them, they thinks it's an announcement that I'm pregnant. If they didn't, they might push a bit harder.

The small twist on this old standby is that my side of the family is plenty populated. I'm going to have to start using toes to count neices and nephews, so any cries from my parents or siblings on this front fall on deaf ears. My husband's family is a different story. They're at zero going on zero.

That said, this also is not a huge factor in my decision-making process; or at least I know it shouldn't be. When it comes right down to it, I'm selfish or self-aware (you can choose) enough to recognize on some level that a decision this big can't be made for someone else, although I'll get to some of the other concerns/pressures another day and you may wonder if the same person is writing this. But I can say that I recognize that this decision can't be made for our families. It's got to be what is right for us.

The last really mundane/over-used is just general society, colleagues, etc. Personally, I think most of these are in our heads. But then there are the not-so-close acquaintences or nosy neighbors with no sense of discretion. So even though the "childfree" community is growing, I still feel like deciding to not have a child is an ostracizing decision. It's asking to lack things in common with other people for a long time; things that will occupy the majority of their attention for the next 18 years or so. It's asking to be different, which is something I usually avoid like the plague. There are some places you can choose to live where this is not the case, but in the medium-sized midwest town where I currently plan on planting my roots for at least the short-term, it makes me different from about 95% of my demographic. And that might be a conservative effort.

Luckily, at least for now, I happen to know a lot of other people who are in the 5%, but most of them are just there for a layover. They're friends who haven't yet found that husband they're looking for or friends finishing up graduate school and trying to get settled before jumping into the kiddie pool. They're not planting themselves in a childfree world, and I admit that it makes me nervous to be the first one to build on the block.

The Beginning

2006-01-23T13:47:00.000-05:00

I'm in the middle of a huge project for work and have no excuse for spending time on anything unrelated to it. But all I can think about is this huge, life-changing question and I think it's making me crazy to dwell on it alone. The question: Whether to have a child.

Faced with the alternative of feeling like I was going crazy, I figured I might vent a little. I never would have dreamed of starting my own blog. In fact, for these personal types of venting, I used to prefer hand writing things. I can't keep a journal or a diary because I'm not committed enough and it inevitably gets stuck in a drawer after one or two entries. Usually by the time I feel the need to write again, I can't find the thing and end up buying another one or using a notebook I find around the house.

I spent hours searching online for a book on this subject and I found a few that I really plan on looking at. But there didn't seem to be anything directly on point. What I really wanted was a dialogue, but I don't have any female friends who are in similar positions. I searched for message boards or something similar but never found anything that seemed quite right.

I was always that kid that entertained herself, so I figured why change now. I'll just talk to myself. So I began with intending to create an unpublished blog. Then I started to think that there might be something to be said for publicity. Not in the 15-minutes sense, but in the sense that when you say something publicly (or decide to not say something publicly) there is a thought process that doesn't occur when you're writing in a journal. You think about whether to say something "out loud" (it's nice sometimes if we think about this before actually speaking, but either way . . .). With that, you're forced to justify why you shouldn't say something out loud. And that can tell us a lot about ourselves and the world we've chosen.

So, after all that, I decided to go public after all. One point of clarification I should make is that this is not a substitute for discussing this monumental question with my husband. This is a totally different conversation -- one with myself and, hopefully, with similarly situated women. The conversation(s) with my husband were and are very important but these are also important in a different way. There are some considerations and processes that I need to go through before we can have our discussions. The correlary is also true -- he needs to think through some things and make some tentative conclusions on his own too. So, I am not making this decision on my own, but there are portions of it the journey that we walk separately.