Last night, Drew and I went to my sister’s church to see my younger nephew sing with his four year old choir. It was cute, and he was all too adorable in his white shirt and tie. He sang for some of the songs (he had them all memorized, but I think a little stage fright took hold just a bit) and didn’t take his eye off the conductor, despite the wiggly children next to him that were waving to mom. Good job, buddy.
We had a bit of an awkward moment before the concert started. A friend from college saw me in the lobby and came out to say hello. It had been years since we’d seen each other and she gave me a big hug. We caught up briefly, and I mentioned that I had gotten married recently, which she had heard about. She then asked that question that so many well intentioned friends (and strangers) seem to ask.
“Do you have any kids?”
I smiled as best I could and said the answer that so many seem disappointed by.
“No.”
Her response didn’t really register with me until we walked away and Drew mentioned it.
“That’s okay.”
As if she had to console me over the fact that we had no kids. As if it wasn’t a choice. As if I would love to have the three kids with one on the way that she had.
I think people are surprised at the fact that I am totally okay with no children in my married life. Because apparently a marriage isn’t complete without children. I guess because most women’s biological clock is ticking, and I’m not getting any younger! (I actually had a very good, very well intentioned friend tell me I wasn’t getting any younger one day. I almost slapped her.)
Drew and I are still enjoying our newly married life together. Maybe enjoying isn’t a strong enough word. Luxuriating in may work better. We love lazy Saturdays where we can cuddle and lazily cook breakfast together. I waited a long time for my husband, and by golly, I plan to enjoy him.
We’ve talked about kids, and really, we’re just taking it a year at a time. We’ve decided that this year, we’re not ready for kids. And we’re okay with that. We’re more than okay. We’re happy with that.
I love kids. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have spent three years of my life mothering 49 amazing African kiddos with the African Children’s Choir. I love my nephews to pieces and was blessed with the opportunity to nanny both of them after they were born. I have handled many parenting experiences, from scraped elbows to bad dreams, tickle fights to bedtime stories, and picky eaters to refusing a bottle (I won that battle, I’ll have you know.) I can line up 25 kids quietly and quickly without saying a word. Motherhood doesn’t scare me one bit. It is a noble job, and I salute every mother out there.
Sure, I’d like to have a baby. I know how cuddly they are and how intoxicating that newborn smell is. But I also know what nasty smells and messes they produce in their diaper and how much noise they can make at 3 a.m. And how they take up every second of your time. Honestly, I’m not ready for that.
So I will continue to be childless for this season of my life and I am okay with that. Please don’t feel the need to console me.
