Here's Looking At No Kids

A new generation is changing what it means to live child-free.

- Lauren Mckeon

I used to want to be a mother. Or I thought I did. Around Christmas, I would pull cookies from the oven, inhale the heady punch of ginger, and think, One day, I will teach someone how to do this. I would hold my grandmother’s treasured brooch, and think, One day, I will pass this on. Mostly, I imagined motherhood as a 1950s sitcom: bedtime stories, an abundance of firsts, holidays straight out of Hallmark.

At the time of these reveries, I was in my late twenties, newly married. In the receiving line at my wedding, relatives asked me questions like, When are the kids coming? Some exclaimed that they were “so excited for them!” My father started stockpiling toys he found at garage sales. My mother reminded me that she had stowed my old baby clothes in vacuum-sealed bags. At night, my then husband would wrap his arms around me and whisper, “You’ll make such a good mom.”

In truth, I was on the fence. Children felt like both a way to jump-start my real life and a way to end it. I wasn’t afraid of being a mother, and I didn’t think I’d be a bad one. I just wanted to be other things so much more. As a journalist, my days rarely followed a nine-to-five schedule. I found purpose in my work and couldn’t imagine rearranging my days to include breastfeeding and diaper changes. I knew it was possible to be a mother while maintaining a career, but I had little desire to take on the challenge. I didn’t see children as a punishment or a burden. But I also did not see them as a gift. If anything, motherhood was a requirement — a stage women completed after marriage, a check mark on the way to an accomplished life.