The quandary of my non-transmitted DNA

[gurdonark]

Soon after I joined LiveJournal, I signed up for a community for people who are "childfree". I've never really liked this chic new label "childfree", because it sounds like an appellation one assigns to spearmint gum somehow.

I found a few folks there who were earnest communitarians about the unique issues with which those of us who chose not to have children are faced. I also, though, found more than a few folks who made it almost a hobby to post derogatory information about children, including various epithets with a simian-based metaphor about childhood.

Now being "controversial" about kids and "hating" kids is a common sentiment these days, which I frankly discount in the main when I hear childless people make those expressions, because in a world where there are few genuine rebellious things one can say, then a chic "hatred" for kids is one of the few provoking modes of speech left. It's kind of a swastika on the Harley helmet kinda thing, I think, for suburbanites without Harleys.

But the "childfree" folks came to be the first community which I "unjoined", because frankly, bashing children in print is a pretty boring and rather distasteful read. Heaven knows that some of the posters there had correctly assessed they had darn good reasons why they were and should be child-free. But my attention span only runs to so many "do you know what that carpet runt did to me at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store?" or "let me tell you about that baby that burped on the plane!" posts.

I also find that the 'political' aspects of the childfree movement do not interest me very much. I think there's darn good reasons to give tax breaks and some unpaid leave here and there to folks with kids, and the fact that we childless folks get a bit less does not make me lose sleep at night.

But I do find that although we did not choose to have children, I come at this issue from a different place than many "childfree" folks. We are not of the "we hate kids" school of thought. We love kids. We are not of the "tried desperately but couldn't have any" group. We are not of the "we'd be terrible parents" camp.
I think we could have been good parents. Stated simply, for reasons of our own not particularly interesting or relevant to the public at large, we just chose not to have children.

I suppose on some level I should feel some great species longing that all these wonderful strands of uniqueness that are me (and the much more wonderful strands which are my wife) will be lost to the gene pool. Certainly, when I was a younger man or a teen, I'd have been surprised to learn that I would in the long run remain childless. But the proverbial bells have largely rung, decision-wise, and it looks like we will not go forth and multiply. I'm pretty much fine with that.

The day to day problem of not having children is not a problem at all. Our lives tend to have much more free time than the folks we know with kids. I'm not gloating about this--I can tell from our relatives and friends who have kids' lives that there are all sorts of compensations for the loss of free time, because child-rearing can be pretty cool and fulfilling. But day in, day out, we don't have to rob our calendar to find secure little moments to spend free of kids. We spend all our lives free of kids. We see nieces, nephews and friends in small doses, at most a weekend but usually an hour or two at a time, and we love many children. But none of them are "ours".

The thing I always wondered when I was younger (and there was a time in my 20s in which I doubted I would marry) when I wondered if I would go childless, hit middle age, and then say "darn, I really miss having kids, and now my moment is lost". In fact, though, those thoughts come to me very rarely, and in the most lightweight of forms, along with thoughts like "Gee, I'd love to visit Newfoundland" or "I should be an optometrist". Just the normal pipe dreams of the normal WalterMittyesque person. My mother said to me once that in her generation, kids were not considered a "choice"--they were a necessity. A lot of couples coudn't have kids, and that was "okay", but the "norm" was to have kids. Now, though, essentially nothing in our lives is particularly diminished by the lack of children in our lives. I suppose in the back of my mind I think that a bit of pre-planning for elderly days might be necessary due to the want of kids to someday help with that--but this is what I term a "math problem", not a "real emotional concern".

I'm very sympathetic to the notion that all these kids things often don't work out as they should. We see news stories every day that tell us of people who have kids who shouldn't, and we know people every day who want kids desperately but can't have them. But here I wonder if this isn't one more of those places where Providence and coincidence are indistinguishable, and we therefore for want of a better theory must assume that we must play our cards as they are dealt.

A few weeks ago I met the fellow who runs an adoption agency. He was telling me of the involved process for adoption. As with so many things Texas, it is much easier to adopt in some ways here than in the population centers of the east and west, without quite being the "baby market" presented by a few of the rural "adoption mill" states. I took his card, in case I have a client who needs it. In the back of my mind, I wondered--what would it be like to adopt? But then I shelved that thought in that place where also lives "next Hawaii trip? Maui or Lanai?", which hardly seems to me a compelling place from which to add to one's family.

We tend not to live "childless". We don't treat our pets as children--we think our dogs are our pals, not our issue. We don't sit around worrying what we should do with ourselves, or worrying that our nest is empty. We always have a great time together, and we've reached that point in life in which we do not worry at all.
Each of us has old pre-marriage romantic friends who have had children. I don't know about my wife, but when I see pix sent by an old girlfriend of a child, any passing notion of "in another world, this might have been my child" is always quickly coda-ed with the raw realization that "yes, and I'd only have visitation rights, and see her on alternative weekends and holidays, and four weeks in the summer" (in revision, I hasten to say there's nothing wrong with that, either). I think happy lives are not always easy to find. As my life has worked out happy, I'm not going to sit and daydream about "what if I had kids?".

But I suppose on some level I'm now like those worker ants in the ant nest. Somebody else is going to reproduce, and I'm working less for my own DNA than for the colony. The analogy is strained, because the ant situation does involve near-relative DNA passage,
but it's comforting to think that all kids, in this sense, should be "my kids", as I am not trying to make things work for any particular kids. It's like that childless schoolteacher Mr. Chips in the book who felt that all his boys' school students had been "his" children.

I hope and trust posterity will forgive me if I don't cryogenically preserve this DNA until some future culture understands how to grok my fullness. I'll instead focus on the things I wish to acccomplish, rather than my personal child-rearing contribution to our rich tapestry. It's not that I hate kids. I love 'em. We just don't have any, and that's okay.
Even talking about it sounds a wee bit defensive, but I worry that in our kid-obsessed culture kids are neglected and worshipped, abused and exalted. It's all very odd. In an earlier time, tons of people did not marry, did not reproduce, and it did not matter.
We're merely seeing those times come again. Hey, maybe I should see myself as a surfer, on the "childless but kid loving" wave. Tonight that wave seems reasonably blue and "surf's up"-ish, and I get to cruise it with my wife 365 days a year.

I sure totally "get" why another person feels that they "need" kids. It's a very human feeling, and perfectly understandable and salute-able. But I guess I don't feel badly that we don't, nor am I inclined to knock the windows out of the childrens' playground area of McDonalds to criticize those who do. In the great left wing and right wing of childed/childfree, I suppose I'm just another lukewarm moderate. Moderation, I posit, is okay.

Comments

[dabroots.livejournal.com]

Excellent post, and expression of your thoughts on not being a parent, not procreating, etc.

It's interesting in my family that my own generation in my immediate family has been notably few in children. Out of parents' five offspring, only four grandchildren have resulted. My own son was by far the most recent, born seven years ago, and the next one back, in 1978. So, I haven't known true children in my family since I was older than my twenties. It wasn't until I was in my late 30's that the notion of being a parent seemed like a good thing, due greatly to two men in their forties who had small children, and were clearly very happy with their kids.

Yes, the "child-free" term seems clearly analagous to "smoke-free", as if being child-free will keep one from having discomfort in their life. But I can understand your comfort with not having any, because I can often see how my life would be different without a child--although many people my age have children who are grown and far away, at this point, in which case I would probably be much more the middle-aged man in search of a red sports car.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Yes, I don't really see child-free as the "new vacation destination" the way it seems to be marketed, though the extra free time is nice.
But time is how you spend it, not how much you have. I think having kids is cool, too, we just didn't have any.

[amatrixangel.livejournal.com]

KiDz are KoOl! ..I sHoUld kNoW, I'M tHe bIgGeSt kId aRoUnD

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

You have a child=like gift for expression, anyway! :)

[microbie.livejournal.com]

I feel very similar toward children that you do, except that I am not that fond of children. I didn't get along with children even when I was a child. However, I'm not a child-hater either. I'm all right with tax breaks for children, flexible work hours for parents, etc. I figure today's kids will be taking care of me if I should live to be old and gray, so I'm willing to do my share to contribute to their upbringing- the colony's health, as you say. Too bad so many people, both with and without children, are not so selfless.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Yes. there's a difference between the importance of children in the abstract or even in my life and the importance of any of the children being mine.

[miscelenaclosed.livejournal.com]

FWIW, having a child doesn't make you immune to obnoxious comments from those who think you have an obligation to spread your genes FURTHER.

I have a son who's 11... and I adore him, but that's more than enough for me. Friends and family seem to love to inform me, in consoling tones (as if I were somehow pining, which I am not) that I'm still *plenty* young enough to have another child!

My mother has even tried lamenting the fact that "the only ones reproducing these days are the disadvantaged... all of these intelligent young adults are choosing not to have children: what's the world going to come to?!" She just wants a granddaughter... and I point her to my brother, who swears he's not even ever going to marry. (I do this not because I don't respect my brother's choices... but because it's what little-brothers are for: distracting complaining parents. *grin*)

I'm slightly odd in a lot of ways, I know... but I'm not so insane as to think I personally would want or enjoy having an infant and a teenager in the same house. I admire women who do this, don't get me wrong... but I have NO desire to be one of them.

All this to say: more power to you for making a choice for yourselves, without being militant or unaccepting of others' choices at the same time. :)

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

I must say that both of our families have been wonderful on the kids issue. I know in some families, this is a parental type concern.

I think that a teen and a toddler would be fun, but climbing Everest probably would be, too, and yet I have no inclination to either extreme.

[mockinggreylock.livejournal.com]

I too joined the "childfree" community...and left it within a day. I'm finally at a spot in life where I could provide for a child, but I've yet to listen to any motherhood instincts that I have (if I have any at all). Growing up in my large Catholic family (my parents both from families of eight children), it was expected that I'd grow up, get married, have lots of children. My mother isn't in the least bit pertubed that I've chosen a woman to spend the rest of my life with -- to her, that's twice the potential for grandchildren!

I really don't want any. On one hand, I do think we'd make great parents, and I certainly have the friends and community and income to support a child...but no dire urge to reproduce. My family thinks me odd for this. Oh well...I too prefer the free time and the disposable income. There are far enough people in the world without me adding one more, so perhaps I'd do best to try to contribute to the development of my friends' children.

I do often wonder though, do kids need that many toys? In my family, the children of my generation certainly had a good number of toys, but not more than would fit in a single toychest per child. Many of my peers with children have SO MANY toys for thier kids that the vast majority are rarely touched. Maybe I learned something from the Velveteen Rabbit :)

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

You know, the free time and disposable income are nice, although I feel vaguely self directed when I admit it :). I could have imagined other lives I could have lived that include kids, but this life works fine without them.
I think so much of this is situational, and I think the key is to think in situations, not absolutes. I love that about the two chances for grandchildren :)

Moderation is indeed OK

[gregwest98.livejournal.com]

Being a moderate myself, I am naturally inclined to agree anyway.

There are times when we (parents of two) admire your situation. Others in your situation probably long to be where we are. It's good you're not one or the other but simply in the middle enjoying your long walks and the company of your wife.

Que sera, sera?

[kelquestor.livejournal.com]

One's position as a parent or childless adult by choice is yet another of those distinctions by which some (dare I say, the smaller-minded?) people choose to judge us.

As a child, whenever questioned on the subject, I vehemently declared I'd never marry and never have kids. In primary school, this was not an uncommon stance, but in high school, it was regarded (along with many of my defining characteristics...)as left of the norm.

I shacked up with my man fairly early on but have never done the cake-and-impractical-dress thing. The two of us agreed there was no need to alter our childfree existence - a dog and a horse was more than enough responsibility, and a joint mortgage more than enough commitment. It was implied by many a person that we were selfish to choose this way of life, but my personal feeling was that it would be more selfish to bring a child into the world when we were aware of our lack of aptitude to fulfil the role of parents.

We clocked up 11 years together without fertile hiccup. But then, with the dawn of the new millennium, a new era in our lives was heralded by a painful sensitivity in my breasts I was unable to ignore. I was pregnant. How could this happen to ME?

I was faced with what I was sure was one of the most momentous decisions of my life: to baby or not to baby. Decisions are not my forte at the best of times. I phoned Mike up in tears to confirm my suspicions, and he said, "What are you crying for?". Typical Kel, making a melodrama out of no big deal... it seems what had been a conscious choice of childlessness (I thought)for me was merely arbitrary to him.

There's a lot more I could say on this (and, upon request, or at a later date, I may) but right now, let's cut to the chase: I was delivered of a healthy baby girl, and was relieved enough to comment to the midwife in the theatre, "It's alright, I like her."

Like her? Gross understatement. Trying hard not to go all schmaltzy on you here... Emily Beth is fantastic, and I love having her in my life like I never would have believed possible. Yes, she(and this experience) has changed me irrevocably, but I WAS that person who chose not to have children for over a decade, and nothing can change that. Her very existence has made me live a lot more consciously, more aware of what I am doing and its ramifications. Not that I was pig-ignorant or thoughtless before (in defense of my old self!), but I certainly revelled in my lack of responsibility. Doing what I wanted ultimately only impacted on myself, or to the greater degree, anyway. That was the way I liked it. (In fact, I would have liked it more so, but got tangled up in a longterm relationship before I came to that epiphany).

I used to come across disapproving types pre-Emi, who would say, "You need to have a baby and settle down." As if something was glaringly wrong with my life and only procreating would fix it. (I used to think at the time they were just jealous, and wanted me to suffer as they did/had). Well, I'm still not buying into that now I am a parent. I still uphold my basic philosophy that you have to be happy with yourself before you can be happy with someone else. And I don't think it's selfish to choose not to have children, and I respect anyone's right to that choice. I have not become a rabid member of the Pro-parents union! I didn't change my mind, I just got pregnant, unintentionally.

However... I am really happy with this totally unexpected, undesired turn of events. It still makes me incredulous to think about it. I like being a Mum! It has meant a lot of changes in my life, and I do still hanker to up and away on impulse to dens of iniquity or unencumbered activities at times! But, Emily Beth's arrival has made me consider more fatalistic possibilities than I had previously: maybe this was meant to happen now, and that's why it did? Maybe she chose us? Is there some question she has we might be able to half-answer? Or is she here to show us something? (She already has.) Is this the ascension of our line? Is this a real live reason to hope?

I'm still pondering these questions (that's what I do!). Meanwhile, I have a feeling that most things do happen for a reason, and whatever reason it was that made Emily Beth happen, I'm glad.
: )

Re: Que sera, sera?

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Thank you for sharing that story. I was very intrigued by it. I am so glad that having a daughter has been fulfilling for you. I felt a little badly, in some ways, posting this post, as I've known so many people in my "real life" who wanted kids and then couldn't. You illustrate a different them, but a theme that proves that the cards deal differently for everyone.

What a lovely name--Emily Beth. When I was a kid, nobody would be named "Emily", as that would seem a bit Brit (or Aussie, for that matter), not a "real name". Now, though, Emily is very popular as a girls' names...these things go through such fashions!

Re: Moderation

[kelquestor.livejournal.com]

Health gurus would have us believe that moderation rules okay. It is extremes of anything that do the damage.

As a former extremist, still inclined to rebellion (inwardly at least), I would suggest that extremism can do some things that are not necessarily negative. Like bring attention to something/one that needs it, create revolution, spur on an inventor or a genius, or simply satisfy a craving for all the chocolate one could possibly want in such a way that one will never again want quite that much chocolate!

My personal stance is that moderation is quite sensible and certainly adequate in many circumstances, but there is a time and place for extremism. To have the facility to recognise the appropriate time and place for either is a valuable quality. : )