Vagina Doesn't Equal Mother

I’m not a human incubator.


Just because I have a vagina, doesn’t mean it’s my sole purpose in life to reproduce.  Just because I have a vagina it does not mean that I am inherently endowed with maternal instincts.  I don’t get all gooey when I see a baby.  And I sure don’t hear any ticking clocks.  There are two things that I never daydreamed about doing, one was having kids and the other was getting married.  Not even as a young girl paying dress up with dolls did I ever pretend that they were my children.  They were always just dolls that when I was done playing with, I would put back.  If I’m not mistaken, you can’t just put the real thing back.  I have made a very conscious choice, a choice few people actually respect, not to have or care for a child.  A vagina only means that the possibility exists to physically produce a child.  It doesn’t mean you have to. 


There are several reasons for my decision not to have kids and the first is kids themselves.  My thoughts on children are as follows. 


Baby to 4 years old.  I’ll give you that babies can be pretty awesome little creatures.  It’s a new little person that you get to watch grow and change.  I get that.  But bear in mind that every person that walks around was once a baby, therefore, babies aren’t special.  It’s just a phase; a phase full of nasty smells and noisy, sleepless nights.  Quite frankly, I don’t know how not to be scared of breaking them.   


5-10 years old.  Their one saving grace, they aren’t old enough to question authority.  They’ll pretty much do what they’re told.  However, with a mouth like a sailor, it’s difficult for me not to warp their little minds with foul language.  And they ask those awesome questions, “Where the **** do babies come from?”, “Why they hell is the sky blue?” and all other manner of either existential or complicated questions that, as a person who doesn’t yearn for a tiny version of myself, I find ridiculous to even try to answer since my answer would only confuse the tiny mind of the questioner even further.   


10-17 years old.  They’re all bastards.  Every one of these juveniles should be drowned in the nearest large body of water.  Even the most well mannered tween or teen is rude, snotty, mean and spoiled when left to their own devices.   This particular set of people can be traced back to at least one traumatic moment in everyone’s life.  Remember that one girl who spread rumors about you that everyone believed because she thought you liked her boyfriend?  Remember that guy who used to give you swirlys between 3rd and 4th period leaving you to wander the halls for the remaining 3 hours of school with toilet water in your hair?  There’s a reason for the saying, “Kids are the meanest kind of people.” 


Most of my angst against children comes from my boyfriend’s 12 year old daughter.  I made the decision not to have children way, way before I ever met him.  She started out pleasant enough, but as time has gone on, it’s evident that she was merely testing me.  I’ve never discipline her, and even if I had tried in the beginning, I would have been over ruled by a dad who never says no.  She has completely perfected playing two ends against the middle, yet remains this perfect little angel who can do no wrong.  She lies, she whines and she is completely unappreciative of anything that gets handed to her.  Perhaps I was simply raised differently, in fact, I know I was since my parents were and are still together, but that is a flimsy excuse.  Even at 12 I knew that if I wanted anything worthwhile, I’d have to work for it.  Chores, homework, helping out on the farm (not an experience everyone has, but in my opinion should, because there’s nothing like chucking around a few thousand hay bales to show you what real work is like and why an education matters) in return for a bike, a trip to an amusement park, a new CD.  She seems to believe that simply existing in a situation where her parents live separately entitles her to whatever she wants.  And I feel for her, she doesn’t have her dad around all the time, but please.  It’s no excuse to be a brat with no manners, and I suppose since she’s never disciplined or told no, I can’t even hold it against her completely, because that falls to her parents. 


My second reason has been cited as selfishness.  To that I say, call it what you want, but I know I can’t be a good parent when I don’t want kids in the first place.  I’d rather be called selfish because I don’t want to endure the physical pain and financial burden then raise a child I don’t want.  I hear they pick up on that sort of thing and it can cause them to become juvenile delinquents and eventually convicted felons.  No thanks.  I’d rather not be the mother of the next Charles Manson because my kid picked up on the fact that mommy doesn’t really want to be a mommy.


Given that the rewards of having children, and don’t get me wrong, I’d love an extra couple grand in my tax refund, don’t out way cons in my opinion, my decision is against.


It’s not just that I lack the drive to have a child and that I have no desire to take on that sort of responsibility, it’s also that I am completely freaked out by the process.  Well, most of it anyway.  A developing baby is in every literal sense a parasite that feeds off of you.  To me, there is just nothing more disturbing than seeing or feeling a baby kicking from inside a pregnant woman’s stomach.  And just in case that’s not enough to convince you to reconsider the validity of my decision not to skwooze out a mini me, keep in mind that this precious little parasite will feed off you well after it’s out of your built in incubator.  Oh, and never mind that you have to worry the whole time you’re pregnant about everything that goes into your body, not to mention all of the different genetic diseases, deformities and just plain freak accidents that could happen.


Where does it say that because I’m a female, I’m supposed to be in awe of children and long to have one of my own?  And why, even though I’ve made my decision known, am I still expected to act in a motherly way to all children?  In all honesty, I believe most children, not all but most, pretty much suck, a parallel to my opinion of most adults, which I believe makes sense.  Oh no, you don’t like kids?!  How can you not like kids?  It’s easy, they’re usually spoiled rotten little brats when you really take a step back from the situation.  I don’t recall signing away my right to have a negative opinion of children just because I happen to carry around the equipment to have one.  And just because a vagina comes standard in all models of the female body, doesn’t mean it needs to be used.  I have defrosters on my car headlights; it doesn’t mean I have to use them.  Owning a vagina doesn’t require anyone who has one to use it.  My gender does not predetermine my purpose on this planet.  Sorry, I’m not into being an incubator for a being that I will spend the greater part of my life trying to sustain only to have it ultimately blame me for all of its problems, and it will because we all do.


I know, it sounds quite cynical opinion for a 26 year old to have, but I make no apologies for it.  Some people don’t like tomatoes and like kids, I happen to like tomatoes and dislike kids.  Call it unnatural, call it bad wiring, call it selfish, but no amount of prodding, conversation or advancements in medicine and behavioral science could convince me that having a child is right for me. 

je006j je006j
26-30, F
1 Response Feb 27, 2009

I agree with & applaud you.