Having Kids

...not.

Recently, babies have been on my mind a lot. Lately, a few of my friends had babies, a few more are expecting, and a couple of others have been discussing about trying. Of course, every time talk about babies come up, I am almost always asked, "When is it your turn?" Thankfully, and surprisingly, neither my parents nor my in-laws are pressuring us to have kids.

I love children. I've always wanted to be a teacher since I was two and had experience teaching elementary, middle, and secondary. I think I connect well with most of my students. I like playing with my friends' kids and am usually very comfortable with them and they with me almost right away. I find children so refreshing to be with. They are so honest, funny, clever (especially when they want things their way), and delightful. I love their sense of wonder and audacity to correct adults when they think they've figured out the world. And yes, I include those kids whom we often refer to as teenagers. And yes again, I also include some of those "unlovable" miscreants because even they show glimpses of childish vulnerability that shows how much they just want to be noticed and loved.

With that said, I'm not sure I want to be a mother. Maybe I'm just saying that because I just got married. D and I are very comfortable being with each other in our first year together and maybe we'll explore the subject of children later on -- when we're sick of each other. (Hee hee, just joking!) I look at my current lifestyle and it's so obvious that so much will change once a child enters my life. I wouldn't be able to play Sims all I want anymore. I wouldn't be allowed liquor for almost a year. I wouldn't be able to sleep in, if at all during the night. These are all selfish reasons and ones I know I can and will overcome should I decide to become a mother.

But, my other reasons for not having kids are:

1. Why would I bring a child into such a troublesome world? The world as I see it is definitely going downhill. Sometimes, I see, hear, or experience something that gives me hope for humanity. Most of the time, I just feel like strangling the heck out of someone.

2. I do not want my child to have to go through bullying. I see bullies and the bullied almost every day. Most of the kids are good, but are still subjected to humiliation or intimidation by others. Some kids can be so mean.

3. I'm a worry wart. I'm very liberal, but fair with my students, but they are other people's kids. With my own kid, I'm afraid that I'll be too overprotective. I see parents who are so protective to the point that they are almost smothering their kids. I don't want to put my kid through that.

4. I don't think I'll be emotionally strong enough to handle any medical concerns that my child might have. I would love my child, even if s/he has Down Syndrome, autism, cerebral palsy, mutism, or violent tendencies, but I don't think I can handle the every day struggles with which these conditions come packaged.

5. I can't handle rejection. I've seen a decent 12-year-old kid turn into a monster overnight, rejecting everyone in his life and especially hating his parents who have done nothing, but love him. I'd hate to hear that my child hates me. (Well, maybe every kid has said that s/he hates her/his parents, but this 12-year-old REALLY hated his parents.) What happens if my child rejects my belief system? She becomes a Buddhist lesbian or he becomes a pedophile who loves country music. Right now, I think I could still love my child, but a kid who rejects God and His values would really pierce my heart.

Not too long ago, I actually told D that my biological clock was ticking and that if he wasn't ready to be married, I was willing to adopt just to have kids. I was that desperate to have my own child. (Hopefully, that wasn't the reason why he asked me to marry him.)

On the flip side, I can think of so many reasons to have a child. I know all the worries I had listed have been thought about by parents, including my own. These things come with the territory of having a child. I was told by a former colleague (who has had three miscarriages, then two kids, then one more miscarriage before she and her husband stopped trying) that I shouldn't let these things get in the way of experiencing the true joy of having a child. I hope one day I will believe that. Truly, I admire every parent out there who is aware of these problematic issues (or aren't, but still give it his/her best shot), who try his/her hardest to provide for the child, and still stay sane. I know it can be done.

But, for now, the cons outweigh the pros for me.