Yesterday, I got up at stupid o’clock in the morning (though I don’t think there is a stupid o’clock at night so sorry for the redundancy). I had to be at a hospital in Brampton very early to film an educational video in which I portrayed a new mother who has given birth to baby Sara at only 29 weeks. The video is meant to highlight the various machines and gadgets made by a company who I probably shouldn’t name for neo natal care.
I’m told I played the frightened mom in labour very convincingly. I was pleased. After all, having never had children, I had to find different experiences to draw on (I used the pain that courses through my left arm as a result of a tetanus shot).
Honestly, just pretending to be ready to drop took a lot of energy (especially when I had to throw my back into it towards the end). How any woman survives hours of this only to have it end with a human getting squeezed from an orifice previously associated with mostly pleasure, I can’t even begin to fathom.
Even after getting to see the little premies in the intensive care unit (and they were very sweet and quiet), I have no desire to bring a child of my own into being.
I have endured much criticism over the years for my decision to remain childless. Back in my twenties I frequently got the condescending old chestnut “you’ll change your mind!”
Now here I am: staring down my 37th birthday with a little resentment, single and living with my cat and three roommates. Not exactly the ideal conditions for mummyhood, but even if I had the rich husband and the big house in Rosedale, there would be no little Leslys running through the yard and stomping through my organic vegetable and herb garden.
No, I don’t hate kids. No, I am not barren. I did get a little bit squicky when I was researching my role by watching some birthing footage on youtube, but no I am not a coward.
I live a varied and interesting life. True, I could do with a bigger bank account and I know I won’t win an Academy Award (at least this year), but I don’t feel there is anything missing from my life that a child would provide.
I bear no ill will towards those who do decide to parent, so long as they aren’t morons or crackheads. There are a few moms and dad among my friends who genuinely love their kids and are raising them to be strong and goodhearted people.
But face it, most people should not breed and I am one of them.
Thankfully, the older I get the more people are backing down. But I occasionally get well-meaning busy-bodies telling me “it’s not too late, you just need to meet a man. Very soon, you’re not getting any younger and you don’t want to be some bitter lonely old cat lady, so hurry now! Look there’s a man over there go get him, go, go, GO!”
I’m thinking of telling everyone I’ve enetered menopause early and it is, indeed, too late. Let them pity me, so long as they quit bothering me.
