"... and I don't want them either."

I'm sorry I've been neglecting this blog, but I've been posting a lot in my low-carb blog. You can always click on the Heather Shrinks thing to see what I've been doing, I update that almost every day.

Well, as Ron would say I pissed them off again. I am tired of hearing "Oh, so and so is pregnant! Isn't it wonderful?" and everyone is supposed to act like it's the best thing that will ever happen to her. I disagree.

I didn't say that but I did cast aspersions on her virtue, which got a lot of heated replies. I'm hiding out for a bit.

I couldn't understand for a bit why the whole pregnancy is wonderful thing had me pissed off. I mean, as far as I know, I am perfectly fertile. My mother had a few miscarriages, but she also brought 4 children to term. My sister has 3 kids. My aunt has 4. Obviously we don't have fertility issues.

I like kids. I think my nephew is the cutest baby ever. He is adorable. I'm glad my brother has him, I always knew Matt would make a great Daddy. My sisters' kids are great, wonderful kids who will contribute tremendously to society. Attractive kids, too. I volunteered in the church nursery for years, helping with the toddlers. I loved them, but I was sure happy to see them leave!

Which leads me to the question that has been pissing me off for 16 years. "Why don't you have kids?" Oh, God, it was horrible when I worked at Target. The thinking among the level one employees seemed to be such that if you were in a stable relationship you had a duty to procreate. I got hassled endlessly for not having kids. One day I took some tylenol on an empty stomach and got spectacularly sick to my stomach on my checkout lane, in front of witnesses. I had some hard questions and looks before they finally believed I was telling the truth.

It made me a very reliable employee. I never had a sick baby or pediatrician appointments. Frankly, we couldn't afford a baby.

Very early on in our relationship, Ron asked me if I wanted children. I said I didn't know. He replied that he'd had surgery and he would not be fathering any children, as his blindness was hereditary. His viewpoint made a lot of sense to me. If I knew my children would have bipolar disorder I would have surgery too. It's horrible, I wouldn't inflict that on anyone.

I repect him for that. One of my most comforting thoughts when Ron was "laid up" in ICU after his accident was the thought that thank God, no children of ours were suffering with me. I was the only one who loved him that much. I can't imagine having to tell your children your father could die at any moment. I mean, how could I have split my time between children and husband? I had to play favorites and I did - with the cats. I still feel bad about that.

I don't regret it, but I had to make decisions. Which brings me to the thing that pisses me off:
Everytime someone finds out I am married, here it comes "Do you have kids".
I tell them no.
They want to know why not, which is pretty insensitive right there. What if I were trying, and had fertility issues?
I tell them a lot of reasons, mainly genetic.
They want detailed explanations. Some of the inquisitors let us off the hook then, deciding the world doesn't need more "cripples". Others insist that we don't know the child will be disabled, getting very insistent that we should have children.

The most disgusting thing to me is the fact that they are looking at my husband at the time. 87 year old ladies have an easier time getting into a minivan! He's blind! He's got hemparesis! He's got nerve disease for God's sake! I don't have enough on my plate, now they want to stick a helpless infant on me!

A baby would just be more stress, emotional torture, and expense. No. Everyone acts like I'm such a mutant for saying No. I don't want children.

16 years of why don't you have kids you don't know what you're missing....why don't you have kids why why why? I'm sick of it.

I don't have to justify myself. I don't have to explain. All I have to do is be polite.

"Do you have kids?"
"No, and I don't want them either." End of conversation.
"Why?" for the pushy ones, whom I encounter on a regular basis. "I have my reasons. What if I can't have kids? I'd be feeling pretty terrible right now. You might want to think about that before you keep asking questions."
Or "I can take care of my husband, or I can take care of a baby. I made my choice."