Thank you for recognizing that child rearing isn't for you and being true to who you are. It doesn't mean you hate kids.
As the oldest of eight children in the family, I became aware at a rather young age the responsibilities of rearing children. I had to help the younger ones get cleaned up and dressed and because our mother just "didn't like to cook" and I did, I became the chief cook and bottle-washer in the family too. Then, just before my senior year in high school (1968)my parents had twins born into the family. A couple more cute and adorable siblings to care about and care for...feed and bathe and help get dressed. There were a few times early in the school year (that fall) when mom would wake me up in the middle of the night and ask me to feed the bottle to one twin or another as she was falling asleep holding them and was afraid she would drop them. So I got up and fed the twinsie and then crawled back into bed. It was a "rude" awakening to realize more of the responsibilities that having a child meant.
So contrary to my "dream family (of two kids) & house" that I created in my Junior year of high school, I decided I wanted only ONE child in my life. I had a friend in high school that was an only child and I spent enough time in her home and in her life to realize that being an only child had some distinct advantages. But I put the thoughts of having any children in the recesses of my brain. I had college to finish and children to teach.
To complete the education for my degree in teaching, I chose to do intern teaching rather than student teaching. It was a longer commitment of time (semester versus quarter) and I had full responsibility of the classroom as my supervising teaching was also teaching her own classes. It was quite a challenge for me, more so than I anticipated. I had a student that was at time (1975) we called hyper-active, now ADD/ADHD is the correct term (diagnosis). He basically disrupted the classroom, not in mean way, but trying to be funny. It was very hard on me, as having been raised in a dysfunctional family, my father an alcoholic and my mother tried to control us kids to be "perfect" to make for the imperfect behavior of our father. So, that "perfection" propelled me in the classroom. I couldn't have a kid disrupt my classroom, it showed what an imperfect teacher I was or could become!
Well, I did get a teaching job the next fall as a Title I teacher, working with students that had learning challenges. I enjoyed trying to make "games" that would help them learn. But I was devastated when one day they could comprehend a subject or concept and the next day they would have forgotten all they learned. Again, I was confronted by my inability to control things in my life. In the summer of 1976, I got a job in a local hospital doing the admissions, billing and collections. Since my second love in school was accounting, this job fit me and a profession that continued until my retirement.
In 1980, I decided to take a trip to explore the states. I quit my hospital job and went traveling by myself to the Southwest and ended up in Colorado. I became friends with a lady who's sixteen year old daughter was unwed and pregnant. One day, she called me to have coffee with her at a local restaurant. She proceeded to ask me to take photos of her daughter having the baby (as she knew I was into photography). Of course, I told her, "I have never done anything like that before!" She said, "But you'd be better (at photographing) than any of us." So I agreed. Then she tells me, "She's started labor and will probably have the baby this afternoon. Let's go up to the hospital."
Needless to say, I rushed to get my camera and went to the hospital. Despite waves of nervousness (i.e. nausea, feeling faint) I managed to take a whole bunch of pictures of the delivery. I could not see through the lens as my eyes were fogged up from nervousness. But I remember more what I heard than I what I saw...the doctor talking; the mother crying in pain and panting; the baby crying; the nurses comments. It was rare moment and so precious.
The next year, 1981, I turned 30 years old and I remember thinking on my birthday, "It's time. I am ready to settle down and have a child."
Later that fall, my younger sister gave birth to her second child. My nephew was a big baby, over 10 pounds. She had a hard delivery and I remember taking photos of him through the nursery window that night. Within a day, the nurses and doctor realized that it was not well for my nephew. He was transported to U of Minnesota Hospital Neonatal Unit...where my nephew at 10 pounds looked so out of place with all the tiny, preemie babies. I happened to be able to take time off to go down to the hospital to be with my sister and brother-in-law. Tests came back and showed no brain activity for the baby. I sat there with my sister as they made the decision to disconnect life support. I cry today thinking of that time. I watched them hold their son as he slowly took his last gasps of air.
Within 14 months, I had witnessed the birth and death of a baby. I put the thoughts of having a child "on hold" in my life.
I moved to California for three years and after having a couple of relationships go nowhere and my job to be discontinued, I made the decision to move back to Wisconsin to find myself a good ol' farm boy and have a family...of one child. God had other plans for me...I fell in love with a man that had four children from a previous marriage and had been "fixed" after his fourth daughter. I realized that marrying him, I would not have a child naturally. We talked about adoption. It was at this point that I realized that I did not think about having children 100% of the time. I had read and heard about women that thought about having a child ALL the time. It was not a burning desire within me. I will state that if hubby and I would have been able to have a child, we would have! So yes, I did grieve about my inability to have a child naturally. And we had the choice to adopt a child, but again, I realized that "having a child" was not a burning desire within me, we chose our relationship to remain childless.
Do I ever regret that decision? Seldom.
I was fortunate to witness the birth of a child. It broke my heart to witness the death of a child. I was fortunate to have eleven nieces and nephews and watch them grow into awesome adults! So as the author of the aforementioned article continued.
Thank you for being honest and open and refusing to apologize for who you are. Everyone has different values. Everyone wants something different in life. It takes a lot of guts and confidence to say, "This is what I want in life. It's not the orthodox way, but it's my way."
You are welcome!
