Mother's Day article I can relate to.

Posted on Sun, May. 08, 2005 in the Philadelphia Inquirer

Assumptions might be wrong about those without children
By Tanya Barrientos
Inquirer Staff Writer

Most Sundays I eat breakfast out. But not today.

This morning I am housebound, like Martha Stewart, because cafes are not kind to the childless on Mother's Day.

I can't tell you how many times I've stood before a sweetly smiling hostess who is just about to hand me a long-stemmed rose, a fluffy orchid, or a free mimosa until she realizes that I am nobody's mom.

Then her smile sags. The rose recedes. The free drink? Forget about it.

On this particular Sunday you have to have parented to buy a poached egg.

People make all sorts of assumptions when you are married without children.

They think something has gone terribly wrong.

They think you are sad.

They think you hate children.

Once, a friend showed me a picture of an adorable baby in a magazine and I joined her in cooing, "He's so cuuuute."

She eyed me incredulously.

"You're just saying that, right?" she asked. "You don't really mean it."

So, for the record, let me state that I am physically fine. I am as happy as a middle-aged woman can be. And, as long as they're not vomiting, bleeding, or having a five-alarm meltdown, I like kids.

I just don't want any.

It's something I've known since I was 8, the same way some people know they'll grow up to be a doctor, or an actress, or a concert pianist.

As a girl I was never charmed by baby dolls, or baby-sitting, or baby clothes. I liked puppies.

As a grown-up, I was a birth coach for a friend, and during the delivery another woman in the room burst into tears the instant the little girl was born.

"Doesn't it make you want one?" she sobbed.

I looked at my friend lying on the hospital bed completely spent. I saw how her lifelong responsibilities had suddenly doubled. I smiled at the tiny person nestled in her arms and honestly answered: "No."

People used to tell me I would change my mind. Even the man I married.

He was reluctant to propose because he was certain he didn't want kids, and he was just as certain I would have a change of heart. We took the plunge, and I waited for the flip. Through my 20s, and 30s. But my biological clock was stuck on snooze.

Don't get me wrong. I admire mothers.

I marvel at the insane hours they keep. I respect their instinctual sense of sacrifice. My own mother is one of the most remarkable women I know.

I have simply never figured out a way to live the sort of life I want while directing the lives of others.

"Well," a young woman told me recently, "I guess it's good that you realized you're selfish."

Ouch.

Of course, she could be right. I don't care for the word selfish, but I'd like to think I'm self-aware.

These days, when people ask, I simply say I never had children. That allows them to make whatever assumptions they want. And I can handle that.

But not before breakfast.