Somebody recently asked me if, now that I’m working from home, Bob and I are finally going to have a child. Well, this was a new and interesting take on "the baby question." Not to mince words here, but no. First of all, I know myself well enough to know I wouldn’t be able to work at home and have a child. I greatly admire those who can. Secondly, if I were going to have a child, I wouldn’t have waited until I was over the age of forty. Again, I greatly admire those women who do. Somehow, the whole notion of pregnancy never sounded like a rip-roaring time to begin with for me, and now that I have things like a bad back, even when I’m not carrying around an extra 25 pounds all day long, it seems even less so. Besides, I can barely keep up with my ten-year-old dog. I’d hate to see the kinds of circles a five-year-old human would run around me.
What annoyed me most about this question, though, is that it’s still being asked (although in a different guise now that I have a home office). I thought once I’d been married for ten years and had reached the age of forty, people would quit asking. Instead, the question just seems to change from "children" to "child." I’ve never understood why asking women this question is so acceptable in our society. I mean, when a woman announces she’s pregnant with her third or fourth child, does anyone ask her, “Are you ever going to stop having children?” No. They celebrate just as much as they did with her first. But try being a straight, married woman in this society who remains childless. You’re free game for all kinds of questioning, not the least of which is, “Are you ever going to have a child?”
I wonder what this person would have said if I’d responded, “No, I’m working from home not so that we can have a child, but because I’m finally going through menopause and was afraid the hormonal imbalance would cause me to kill a few colleagues.” Sometimes, I just want to say, “You know, I always meant to have children, but somehow, I just never got around to it.” The truth of the matter is that my biological clock seems to have wound itself down rather than winding itself up. It sounded more like a time bomb back when I was 23 and falling madly in love with every man I met who was way out of my league. By the time I’d reached 29, right around the time most of my friends were getting pregnant and having children, it was down to a faint tick (no tock). By 34, it was completely broken, and I had no desire to waste time looking up a clock repairman.
Everyone says, “but you love kids.” It’s true. I do. I love panda bears, too. But I bet no one would ask me if, now that I’m working from home, Bob and I are finally going to start raising pandas.
6 comments:
Trust me, you cannot win. I have one son, and so am contantly, perpetually, endlessly asked, when I am going to have a second (and my mother-in-law used to be a prime villain here although she's given up a bit now). If I had had a second child and it had been another boy, people would have asked me when I was going to try for a girl. I mean, looked at slightly differently, how dare these people think it permissable to ask if you are having sex with your partner? I do wonder too how it is that this very private arena seems to have become a domain for public debate.
Reminds me of the old Seinfeld episode in which, during one of his stand-up routines, he wonders if, once you reach the age of 80, people start asking, "So, when are you going to die?"
That people make comments like that never ceases to amaze me. It's insensitive on all fronts—whether you'd been trying to get pregnant or weren't planning to. We were recently at a party at which my about-to-be-40 wife mentioned to someone that we were hoping to have a child. She said nothing about having any infertility issues but this person immediately responded by telling her that her best best would be to adopt a Chinese baby. Oy.
One of my cousins was pregnant years ago with her and her husband's first. A colleague actually asked her if the pregnancy was PLANNED. "What?" said she, never at a loss for words, "Didn't you receive your invitation for the conception?" LOL
Now THAT'S the kind of comeback I wish I could think of at times like that.
I you have five minutes (and you have not read it already), you can read my take on the matter. It takes a lot of strength to be able to turn forty without giving in to the deafening roar of cultural prejudice on the matter of kid-breeding.
My wife and I knew we'd have kids some time, but even so, we found the sideway comments of friends and family just that bit exasperating (and, as litlove and eclecta so rightly illustrate, out-of-place).
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