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When I Realized I Don't Want Children

My Decision to Not Have Children Well into My 30s

By Christina ScanlonPublished 5 years ago 3 min read
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There comes a time for every woman to question what they want in life, whether it be a career, family, finances, etc.—that ever nagging feeling of questioning one's life choices. Some women want big families and a big house, a nice car, maybe a dog and a cat while others vie for the simpler things in life, a nice apartment, well-paying job, a spouse, a pet to keep them company and offer companionship. It’s human nature to vie for things like this, to make a person feel whole.

When I was younger, I didn’t think much about if I would have a family of my own someday, I was too busy with the lack of friends that I had, the non-existent social life that I held, the struggle of not being able to hold a job. I was too busy to even consider the fact that I could someday be a mother to a child. I have a total of three nephews and three nieces, who I love dearly and I’m happy to be called Auntie, to spend time with children who weren’t personally mine, but getting all the hugs and kisses I could handle just for being their aunt was enough for me. In a weird way, it sort of felt like co-parenting but without all the responsibility.

As I grew older and found out I have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, which pretty much makes me infertile, a sudden sadness came over me, my dreams of having my own family crushed right before my eyes. While members of my friends and family were getting pregnant and starting families, I felt like less of a woman, this illness robbing me of the one thing in my life I wanted more than anything. I was devastated, heartbroken, angry, jealous, a whole range of emotions flooding my brain. Why in the hell was everyone else lucky and I was here struggling? It wasn’t fair. When I found out someone I know was pregnant, I would cry, scream, rant, and shut down for hours. This was a vicious cycle that lasted for years. All I wanted was to start a family with my husband. I felt as if I was robbing him from making him a father.

Talking with my therapist recently, I came to the conclusion that maybe motherhood wasn’t for me. She put so many things into perspective over the last few months. Kids are expensive, kids are hard work, and although they do brighten up one’s day with their silly stories and wonderful drawings, I honestly don’t think I’m one to raise a human because let’s face it, I’m a selfish person. I like sleeping in and the calm ambiance of my quiet apartment compared to my neighbor and their crying children night after night. I can’t see myself waking up in the middle of the night to care for this tiny human and make sure they are well taken care of and happy, safe, comfortable, etc. There are many fears that I have about raising children, will I be able to feed them, clothe them, take them to the doctor when they’re sick? Give them money if they need something for school? When I would get upset that I couldn’t get pregnant, there were times I would cry and wonder why I wasn’t one of the lucky ones, only to be told: “Well, you need to make sure you can take care of your child because they’re gonna need things.” I didn’t listen when I was younger, but the truth is slowly starting to seep in.

I’m pretty sure I’ll be content with a cat, or three.

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About the Creator

Christina Scanlon

41 year old introvert and professional procrastinator. I love video games and writing as it is therapy for my mental illness. I hope you read my stories and share them with your friends!

[email protected]

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