Thanks for that. I've had some difficult conversations with people about my decision not to bear children. Mostly from strangers. My family understands because I've always said I didn't want kids, but it took a while before my husband's mother quit trying to lay on the guilt trip. (I did tell him as soon as we started dating, so she had three years to adjust to the idea before we got married). I meet people and one of their first questions is "do you have kids?" followed by "well, when you do have kids." They just assume I'll change my mind when I "grow up," even though I'm 31.
The worst was this man at Chik-Fil-A. I was in the corner booth with a book, but he started talking to me. I'm too polite to just tell someone to bugger off, although I wish I had. He asked the standard "do you have kids." When I said no, he asked if I planned to spawn. When I said no again, he said: "Oh, so you can't have any. Are you infertile? You know there's some great treatments these days. My wife had trouble." When I picked my jaw up off the floor, I told him I don't want any. He looks like I'd sprouted antlers and started dancing a jig on the table. He kept talking about the joy of kids and how I would wake up to it one day, but I needed to get a move on before I dried up. I quit going to that location because he's a regular.
It's for some people and not for others. I just wish more people got that. I'm the product of an unplanned pregnancy, so I know first-hand what it's like to grow up with a mother who didn't want you, but didn't want to abort you either. My mother still resents the hell out of me, even though she had two more kids, because I'm the one who ruined her life, who threw off her plans, who kept her from greatness (that's how she sees it). I don't want to put even a fraction of that feeling on a kid.