Privacy Schmivacy
Tuesday, January 2, 2007 This holiday season was the most difficult family holiday I have ever had to face. I could feel the days closing in, monstrously, like how in a nightmare you can feel the looming nastiness before it reveals itself. The closer it came, the more panicked I felt. I fretted over laundry and cat litter and bus tickets and possibly lost presents. I cried in the bathtub. I ate ripple chips with dip until my breasts bloated right out of my C-cups and into an old brassiere from my Paxil-induced heavier-than-ever days. I dreamed that I was layered in twenty-odd pairs of restrictive underwear that kept me unwillingly chaste. I considered chickening out and not attending my family Christmas events at all.
You see, part of it is that the big three-four happened to me on the 29th of December, and that is but one year away from the big three-five, which the pamphlet that comes with my hormonal birth control package tells me is the year I should reconsider the health risks of taking synthetic hormones. To my side of the family, and apparently a lot of other people, thirty-five means that if I am going to procreate, it had better happen tout de suite.
What most of my side of the family doesn't know is, well, a lot of things. They don't know that I decided at the age of eight that I would never marry or have children (and so far I've stuck to one out of the two). They don't know that I was grossly pregnant on one other occasion and had a none too good experience with it due to mental instability and drug use. They don't know that me and most of the children I've ever come into contact with look at each other like we're robots or aliens or at least so terribly Other that we're rendered speechless. They don't know about my gender identity thing, which has me being neither this nor that, and that being what I am further complicates the whole bearing-fruit-from-my-womb scenario.
On top of that, I just find it incredibly rude for anyone to inquire after the activities of my uterus unless they are in a professional position to answer to my health requirements. I outlined this well over a year ago, so my ire over it is nothing new, but this Christmas saw new heights of uncalled for mentions of my possible procreation:
- How old are you now? an old friend asked, looking me up and down as though I were being appraised.
- I'll be thirty-four tomorrow.
- So, where's your kids?All my friends have grandchildren to talk about, and I have nothing to say, which was followed by a heavy sigh.
It's almost your birthday. You're no spring chicken, so you'd better get on that kids thing.
I see you're drinking wine. No babies yet, I see!
How's your employer with people who go on extended maternity leave?
Seriously. I'm not kidding. Note that each mention of children was in the plural form. I felt as though I was being looked at like one of those robots that builds cars in Detroit. I was a body with an assumed baby-constructing purpose to fulfill, it seemed, because after the perfunctory how are you these days, it was straight to the baby topic or on to a conversation with someone else.
The whole thing made me want to whip up a t-shirt that read STOP THINKING ABOUT MY UTERUS or maybe BACK AWAY FROM THE UTERUS or even this:
Of course, the my-reproductive-organs-as-public-domain bit, as tiring and oppressive as it was, was not the whole reason for my mental imbalance over the holidays, but it sure amounted to a goodly portion of the anxiety cake. At least three individuals on three separate occasions looked at my belly to check for signs of baby-osity while boorishly asking the question. For fuck's sake, if you're going to talk to a part of my body, at least talk to a part that is actually there and obvious, like my boobs. They're used to it.
* This post is also featured on Indie Bloggers.
Reader Comments (25)
Thank you Thank You THANK YOU! Finally, somebody who gettttttttttts it.
So glad you are at IndieBloggers too. :)
I get that too, whenever the subject comes up, even from friends who consider themselves to be feminists.
Somehow or other, not having children always seems to be seen as a loss or a lack, while things like freedom and career aspirations that tend to disappear when one becomes a mother never seem to figure into their nagging and pity.
What bothers me is that a lot of people seem to think that women without children are cold or heartless or somehow sick in the head when most aren't. For me, I can think of a lot of things that I want to do with life, and having kids just doesn't fit in with the equation.
Anyways, you're definitely not alone.
I just turned 34 too, and my family never ever ever ever asks:
a) Do you have a boyfriend?
b) Why aren't you married?
c) Are you ever going to have kids?
d) Your uterus is drying up, aren't you worried?
Etc.
I'm starting to believe they've all deemed me the Old Maid of my generation because, in their eyes, I'm apparently not marriage material (I'm not skinny, you see), or maybe they think I'm a lesbian.
What pisses me off the most is that I suspect they (my family) pretty much wrote me off a long time ago. Maybe they think I'm unloveable? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride?
Anyway. My point is, at least your family and friends ask. The fact that my family DOESN'T worries me.
P.S. Did I mention yet today how much I love your blog?
Are you really a c cup?
I solved this problem at the age of 24. That was the age that I went through this scenario with my family. I am 31. And I am an old maid to my family, "but thank god she bagged a man!"
I was asked by four separate relatives when I would be having children. I responded to each of them in the same way. "I already did." (wink. wink.)
They never asked me about children anymore, and they never asked me to babysit my cousins.
tada!
Oy. One of my co-workers actually asked me if I was pregnant when my partner and I bought a house. I guess if you have a spare bedroom, you should be looking to fill it up?
Also, when I called my mom to tell her I'd gotten a fellowship and was going to go to grad school, she assumed I was calling to let her know that she should start expecting grandkids (I began the conversation by saying "I have some good news...").
Cluelessness abounds.
-- marisa
Not to be the bearer of bad news, but it will not get any better. Soon your family and friends will be all atitter as to whether there's male factor or if your vacation is to pursue medical assistance.
I speak from experience, you know.
And I would seriously get one of those tshirts if you made some up.
I always find it odd that people complain about their kids all the time, and then want you to have them.
Hey, maybe after a few years your parents can start blaming me instead of you. Then they'll never mention it again. Can we drop a hint? Maybe talk about sperm count when they're in the next room? Then burst into tears when they walk through the door? Awwwwesome. Maybe I'll cry out, "Ah! My barren wang!"
Ya know, schmutzie, I'll bet if you did get married and pop out a kid, regardless of how ill-prepared or unsuitable you might be for either, your family would probably never look you over and ask, "Whatever possessed you to do that? Did you stop for one moment to think what a lifelong commitment that was? Are you sure you're cut out for motherhood?" People never hesitate to ask if you regret NOT having children, but apparently, they never think to ask if you regret HAVING kids.
Just caught a glimpse of palinode's comment out of the corner of my eye. Will he ever go off the pill?
Just to clear up any confusion, Schmutzie and I have been married for some years. That's part of what makes the baby question so irritating - it's as if we're supposed to procreate, as if marriage could be for no other purpose.
"...as if marriage could be for no other purpose."
Just ask any homophobic, Catholic Republican and they will tell you that this is an absolute.
Appreciate the clarification, palinode. I feel for you both. My barren-by-choice wife and my barren-by-choice self went through decades of similar, well, for us it mostly seemed like pity. Funny thing, though, childlessness was mostly about timing. We both wanted children at a certain age, just not the same age.
We generally just tell people we aren't planning to have kids. Most people around here kind of back off. There was one old acquaintance of my wife who told her that every couple should have at least two kids to replace themselves. He had four kids and my wife said that she couldn't have any because he had taken her quota.
I respect folks who don't want kids. Mostly I respect them for knowing this ahead of time and making plans to not procreate, and sticking to those plans. And hey, if you ever change your mind later (which you may never do, and that SHOULD BE fine), you can always adopt someone.
Have you told people in your family that you don't want children? (if you did, did they laugh and say, oh, you'll change your mind someday...) I like what erin says about what people think about childless women. It's terrible.
You could always take the biggest gossip in your family aside and say, "I appreciate your concern, but please don't mention children around us. It's a very sensitive issue...since the accident." And if the issue is pressed, you can bolt from the room, visibly upset, and take a long walk in fresh air to clear your mind.
The shirt thing won't work, because then you'll get, "oh, what a cute shirt! So, when are you having kids?"
I really feel bad that you have to go through this. As a woman with kids, I did go through a period where I couldn't understand why ANYONE wouldn't want children. Then my friend said to me, "Maybe I'm selfish. I don't want to give up my free time. I don't want to have to make arrangements ahead of time if I want to go to the pub. I don't want to eat food that's gone cold, for a month, a year, or even a week. I don't want to share my toys and my books; I don't want to be responsible for someone else's everything, right down to the cellular level and right up to higher education. I don't want the worry, the responsibility, and the drain on my time."
Some folks just don't want kids. Thank God for that.
I remember once I told Schmutzie's mother that we were thinking of moving to a city on the other side of the country. She turned green with panic. The reason? She was terrified of being separated from her grandchildren. Who did not and do not exist. As far as her family is concerned, we're pre-pregnant. All our non-existent children are belong to them.
"Ah! My barren wang."
I love that barren wang bit.
I'd wear that T-shirt too. My uterus is no one's business except mine, well and now the little person who is living inside it. But just ours and no one else's damn it. And don't even get me started on the placenta...
Yeah, I admire the folks who decide not to have kids when they really don't want one. If you know, you know. In fact, if you're not sure, I'd say you know.
And if you think the comments would go away if you just got preggers, ... hahahahaha. They just get worse. Show a bit of a bump and it's not only comments about how skinny or fat or young or old or high- or low-carrying or sick or healthy or glowing or tired you are, about your birthing plans, your ultrasound, the baby's activity, etc. etc. You also get touched. Randomly. By strangers. So if you're averse to that kind of thing, remember that pregnancy will not be up your alley, necessarily, either. People think womens' bodies are public property.
I love being a parent, but the lack of control I have over my days and nights is something no one could have prepared me for, and sometimes I resent it. Good for you, if you know you don't want it to not go for it.
And try not to move to Humboldt.
ROTFL by the hundred little gods schmutzie - you are the word!
I have kids, you even know one of them - one planned, one earlier than planned - bad pills - another story.
I have many regrets in the raising of my children and there were days weeks and years in which I would bang my head against the wall asking myself "Why didn't you take the pills???" I was a horribly precocious child, a juvenile delinquent and a rebel without a cause - did I really think that my kids wouldn't also have some attitudinal similarities?
In fact, the day my son moved to Banff with his buddies at 19 (he came back) I realized that it was the first day I had been really FREE - for 25 years. I was 41. It was lovely.
So hold onto your freedom, stand your ground and tell your mom to get off your damn case. I do like palinode's sperm count idea though, hmmm.....
Happy Child Free New Year
Hello Schmutzie's boobs. How are you doing today?
From: Savia's boobs.
Oh dude, I so get you. I'll be 35 in a few weeks and I'm really undecided on the kid thing. This doesn't stop my mother from asking/nudging/insinuating every chance she gets. Also, people that hardly know me seem to have an opinion as well. It's ridiculous. I also love the part where my friends with kids are all, "You'll never KNOW LOVE LIKE THIS." Okay, thanks! Still undecided!
Tell them you're menopausal. People haaaate talking about menopause as much as the luuurve talking abouot babies. Added bonus: you can drink way more booze & blame your red cheeks on hot flashes!
I am definitely all about talking about boobs over ovaries or uterus's, but I could talk about wangs FOREVER! There certainly needs to be "Oh MY BARREN WANG!" t-shirts.
Peace to you and your boobs, lady parts and wang relationships.