So we've hit a certain impasse in our relationship.
After a lot of consideration , I'm pretty sure I don't want to have any kids (think I wrote as much a while back.) In sum/short it is because I am an intensely selfish person, put a premium on my freedom to do what I like, and have a tendency to become resentful/pissy when I'm forced to do what I don't want to. I've been told your feelings change when it's your own Mini-Me, but I am almost certain I would be an impatient and easily-frustrated mother.
Admittedly, some of the reason I feel this way is due to the experiences I've had caring for/being around my family's children. I babysat my niece and nephew quite a lot when they were younger, the former of which has ADHD and anxiety that made him an absolute terror to my sister. Through school/medication/review he has begun to grow into a tremendously smart and fun kid, but I remember the years of pain he put my sister through.
For supplementary income during my job training this last two years, I also helped babysit my cousin's 4 kids. I don't enjoy it much at all. The moments where you can sit and play and enjoy a kid's company 1 on 1 is vastly outweighed by all the bullshit you have to put up with, the constant screaming and meltdowns and fights. Five children out of our generation (my cousins/their kids) have been diagnosed with ADHD. In conversation it occurred to me I've developed a very cynical and negative view of children. I don't buy the concept that babies are angels and inherently good. Far as I can see it their 'love' is the only currency they can barter with, and that's all a child is about: getting what they want through manipulation of their environment. We don't teach children to lie, it is one of the first things they figure out to do themselves. I was told this is a very unhealthy way to look at things, but in the end I'm becoming convinced that I'm not meant to be a mother. I read now about post-partum depression being accepted as 'just part of the motherhood experience' and I laugh. How many people had to sign away their autonomy, their careers, their freedom for the sake of becoming a 'good parent.' How many of them just said 'fuck it' and did it because that's what we're expected to do. Fuck, make more of us, then die. Being sold the 'joys of parenthood' by the companies that make billions off the mouths to feed and the shitty diapers that need to be swapped out.
So we've talked about it. Thing is, he tells me it's "okay" that I feel this way...and I'm not sure that it actually is. I've never actually met a man in a serious relationship (gay bros excluded) who was okay with the idea of never having children. When I was on the fence he would talk about having time, but not too much time, because neither of us want to be 40 when we're having a kid. Fair enough.
It's been a long road up. Life circumstances and jobs dictated we got by and had some money left over to burn, but barely. Now that we have both settled into careers for the long haul, ones that we are happy with, more of the world is starting to open up to us. Sucks that it all boils down to finance, but there's an incredible sense of relief and excitement in being able to start doing the things you really want to do in life. We talk about buying a house, a place of our own, and it's not just a pipe dream anymore. We'll be able to go away on vacations and see all the places we want to see. He'll be able to afford the bomb-ass fucking car he's always wanted. The home movie system and nice digs for a superlative Netflix and chill experience.
If I have a kid now or even three years down the line, it'll fuck it all up. We'd have to settle, sacrifice on the behalf of the child. I would drop out of my job for months, just when my career is still in its fledging stage. I wouldn't be able to come home from work at 10pm every day as I do now. There aren't many places in the country where the cost of living/real estate is higher relative to income. Instead of paying the mortgage for a good house out in the sticks with some land, we'll have to settle in some suburban postage-stamp shitbox, some 1600/mo cardboard box condo. Instead of his car, my husband can have pediatrician bills and diapers and food and school tuition and everything else. Instead of being able to go to the Smithsonian or hike in Maine or fly back to his home in Puerto Rico whenever the fuck we feel like, we can stay home and take care of the 3,860,560th baby born in the US that particular year. We can lie to ourselves about getting what we want after the kid's gone, when we're pushing 60 and busted ass for 18 years for the sake of hugs, kisses, and sometimes being told the person you made loves you. Of course they do. They have to.
Maybe I'll feel differently, somehow, but it weighs on my mind. I want to make him happy. Of course a man takes joy in his children. But all I can see is the negatives. One kind of happiness being traded for the idea of another happiness, because of biological imperative.