When I first began this blog, my mission was to create a safe community for women who don’t have children, “whether by choice, chance, or circumstance.” My intention was to be inclusive, but in some ways, that definition only perpetuates the stereotypes that society puts on us: if you don’t have children you either couldn’t, made lifestyle choices and ran out of time, or chose not to bother.
In reality, it’s never so simple as that.
I am infertile. There is no question that my body wasn’t able to reproduce of its own accord and I am childless by circumstance, but that doesn’t mean that choice and chance didn’t have a hand in it too.
Having children was always my plan for as long as I can remember, but in my teens I chose not to have children by practicing the safe sex tactics that had been drilled into me by sex education programs, friends’ dire warnings, and startling stories in teen magazines—that and a healthy smattering of blind dumb chance.
In my early 20s I chose a career over motherhood; there was a great big world and a great big me to explore before I settled down into the role of mother.
In my early 30s I was ready, but chance worked against me by tempting me with a potential mate who turned out to not want kids. At the time, I didn’t have the means or the guts to do it alone.
Finally, in my mid-30s, I met Mr. Fab and set out to become a mother. But circumstance prevailed and I wasn’t meant to have a child easily or naturally. It wasn’t that I didn’t choose motherhood, more that motherhood didn’t choose me.
So, I had another choice to make. Given medical intervention, sufficient high-powered drugs, enough attempts, and sufficient money to do them all, motherhood might have been an option for me. Given enough time and emotional stamina, adoption might have worked out, too.
But I chose not to keep pursing fertility treatments; I chose not to hire someone to produce a baby for me; and most of all, I chose not to sacrifice my marriage for the sake of an endless quest for motherhood. I made a choice that was right for me, so does that mean I am childless-by-choice?
The problem with labels is that they’re one-size-fits-all. But when it comes to not having children, we really come in all shapes and sizes, don’t we?
What choices did you make on your journey? Do people make assumptions about why you don’t have children?
