Money

Let’s cut right to the chase here. Babies are expensive. Kids are expensive. Teenagers are expensive. I am expensive. I don’t even do all that much, and I’m super expensive. Ok, yes, I have a car (which comes with registration that needs to be renewed every 2 goddamn years [fuck you, New York State] and monthly payments [for another couple of months, anyway] and insurance), and credit card bills, and the extremely popular (read: completely bullshit) crippling student loan debt. Babies/children won’t have those. But you know what else babies don’t have?

Sphincter control. That includes sphincters that control vomiting, defecating, and urinating. That means you need diapers, wipes, ointment, powder, and multiple daily wardrobe changes. And a Diaper Genie, if you have any sense of olfactory preservation. And refills, baby safe hand sanitizer/surface cleaner/laundry detergent…

Confession time: I just went to the Babies R Us website and started making a fake registry. I was using their checklist to pick out things that were necessary. You know, like cribs, changing tables, mattresses, etc. I didn’t even get through the furniture segment, choosing the items that were as close to dead-center in price as possible, and I was already over $2000. That’s *just* furniture. That does not include bedding, clothing, diapers, formula/bottles/breastfeeding materials, toys, bath accessories, mobiles, safety items like gates and outlet covers, books, toy boxes, shelving, picture frames, pacifiers, stuffed animals, nursery décor, or the copious amounts of alcohol I’m going to need just thinking about all of this.

“Heeeeeeeey, Dr. Gyno, remember that time you said you wouldn’t take out my uterus just because I don’t want to use it? Is that still your official stance? Uhhuh. Malpractice to remove a healthy organ, you say? Even though I’m specifically requesting it? What if it wasn’t healthy? No, I know that every test I’ve had in the past 3 years has shown no signs of disease in my uterus, but…what if…you know…No, of course I’m not trying to bribe you! But, hypothetically, of course, what would it take to bribe you? H—hello? Doc? Hmm. Must have dropped the call…”

Seriously, every year of a child gets progressively more expensive. Assuming that both parents are working (and assuming that both parents are in the picture *to* be working), the child is going to need to be in some form of child care for at least a few hours a week. Maybe you’re lucky enough to have family that wants nothing more than to stay home and care for the kid, and has the means to do so. If so, you’re incredibly lucky and you should drop to your knees and thank them. Seriously, like a lot. Maybe you work in the kind of place that offers free or discounted child care. Maybe you are a child care provider. Stellar! If you’re one of those lucky few, then childcare costs aren’t an issue. But for the vast majority of the population, your options are a daycare center or a babysitter. And let’s face it, that shit can get dicey. There are some seriously unpleasant people who work in the childcare industry, and they’re really good at hiding. Don’t get me wrong; there are some AMAZING people in the childcare industry, too. My brother and I spent a lot of time with a family friend growing up, and she was an amazing woman (Hi, Joanne!) that we were super lucky to have. My nephew gets the blessing of having my best friend as his babysitter/non-genetic auntie. My neighbor takes care of two babies a couple of times a week. My brother and I also went to a local pre-school program that was run out of a church (but was not, to my recollection, religion-based in its teachings) that helped us develop people skills, friendships, and language skills. But not all programs are as reliable, and not everyone can afford to send their kids to the best places possible. And once kids hit school age, it just gets more expensive.

Even if your kids don’t go to a school that has a mandatory uniform, they have to be dressed, and preferably in a way that won’t get them mercilessly mocked by other kids. Maybe they want to join a club or a sport. Art clubs require supplies, music requires instruments and sometimes lessons, sports require specialized footwear and other protective gear, logic clubs require instruction and gaming materials (like chessboards), and gaming clubs require…gaming…stuff…(like polyhedral dice, card packs, board games, video game systems and the associated games, etc.). Then there’s lunch money, or bag lunches, field trips that both cost money and require pocket money for souvenirs, science fair projects that are always super involved (and that the parents pretty much always end up doing most of the work for anyway), dioramas, book fairs, teacher presents, class holiday celebrations that include mandatory class-wide gifts, crazy fads that your kid HAS to get in on or they’ll be the laughingstock of the whole fucking school, bake sales, and probably about a zillion other things that the school asks parents to shell out cash for. And then there’s the mandatory allowance so that you can occasionally send your little nerd child to the comic book shop mall with their little nerd friends to get them out of your hair for a couple of fucking hours so you can breathe socialize outside of school.

The USDA has a calculator that estimates the approximate cost of raising a child (or children) in any given general area. Just for craps and laughs, I filled it out for one child and one parent. And the amount came to over a quarter of my (frankly, laughable) pre-tax annual salary from my (previous) retail management job. That does not take into account the fact that one quarter of that same salary was already earmarked for mandatory bills (car insurance, car payment, college loans, etc.), and that *another* quarter went toward other necessities, like fuel, medication, health insurance, vehicle maintenance (like oil changes), and food. If I change that to a 2-parent household, assuming the other parent has about the same salary as I do, it becomes half of that salary. Well, fuck.

Look, I realize that there’s no such thing as being financially prepared to have a kid. Not in this economy, not unless you’re already independently wealthy. But I intensely dislike living on a shoestring. It’s just not fun, and the idea of having to sacrifice things that I like (such as delicious sushi, or new tech) because I decided to have a child is just not something that’s appealing to me.  Maybe that’s selfish. Or maybe it’s knowing what I like in life and refusing to compromise.

And that leads us to next week’s topic of lifestyle. It was originally going to be part of this week’s post, but it turns out that I can go on and on about the monetary requirements of children. As always, questions and comments are welcome. Till next time!

Money - Placeholder

Hey all. I know it's Tuesday, and you're supposed to get a shiny, new blog post. However, I spent most of today in transit from Virginia to New York. I have most of a post written, but it's not quite ready for publication. Please accept this meme as a placeholder while I get settled back in on LI and finish up the post.

Surrogacy/Adoption

If you’ve been reading along since the start, you know that my concern that my genes are awful and my excessive levels of anxiety/depression/assorted mental conditions are factors in my decision not to have kids. You probably also know that this week’s topic is surrogacy and/or adoption as an alternate means to procuring children. Yes, I said “procuring.”

I’ll start with surrogacy since it flows best from pregnancy. For anyone who isn’t aware, surrogacy is the process in which a woman other than the intended mother carries a fetus (or multiple fetuses) to term. There are a whole mess of different types of surrogacy, including types involving egg or sperm donation, and types that only use genetic material from the intended parents. There are also a ton of state-based regulations regarding surrogacy. In New York, there are laws that basically require all parties involved to live in NY and have extremely clear-cut guidelines regarding how the whole post-surrogacy thing works. It’s confusing, and it forces the legal system into uteruses, which is exactly where the law does NOT belong. (This is my personal opinion. You are allowed to disagree.)

In some states, it’s perfectly legal to be a surrogate for money. In many states, a surrogate is required to have medical costs covered by the intended parents. Makes sense, obviously, but this can lead to a lot of money, especially if insurance doesn’t cover it. Do you know how expensive a sonogram is? It’s expensive. Super expensive. Know how many of those you need during an average pregnancy? Bare minimum 2, and that’s assuming there are absolutely no issues, and you have a physician that isn’t a fan of double/triple/octuple checking things. And that’s just the sonograms. That’s not counting the extras, like the 3D Sonograms, prenatal vitamins, maternity clothing, copious amounts of medications, time off of work for doctor’s appointments…holy mother, this list goes on. And that’s before we get into the bulk of the expenses, which is going to be next week’s post topic.

Basically, what I’m saying here, is that there’s a fuckload of regulation and cost involved with surrogacy. And the same goes for adoption, really, but in other ways.  Allow me to elaborate.

Adopting a baby is incredibly difficult. Besides countless sets of paperwork, there’s visits from CPS.  Birth your own child, and you’ll only see CPS if there are reports of wrongdoing. Want to adopt a child, and state officials will come in to determine whether your home is appropriate for a child. That’s right, some stranger is going to traipse around your house and decide whether you have the ability to raise a child based on your organizational skills and wallpaper choices.

You also have to do research, and based on that research, choose an agency that is both reputable and fits your needs. (These are links for just a small handful of the ones I found for NY. I do not endorse any of these agencies. I haven’t actually researched any of them for reputation or success rates.) There are agencies to adopt babies, children, teens, foster kids, recently-orphaned kids, etc. and they all have different criteria. And then you have to decide if you want to adopt a baby, a child, a teen, or if you want to foster first. You have to decide if you want to adopt a local child, an out-of-state child, or an international child.

Then you have to wait for approval. Assuming that your home study (the CPS visit) goes well and you get approved, you now have to select a child (or a pregnant woman who intends to give up her baby). Then you have to wait to see if you get approved for that child, meet them, get a placement date, and then comes the paperwork.

Every state has different rules. Every state has different requirements. If you’re adopting a child from out of state, you’re subject to the laws of both your state and the adoptee’s state. Heaven help you if any of those laws conflict, because I honestly have no damn clue how they work that shit out. I don’t even know where to start with international adoptions.

There’s one more aspect to consider: if you plan to adopt a baby that has yet to be born, the mother has the right to change her mind right up until the paperwork is finalized, which can take like, a month after the birth. So here you are, with a ton of time, emotion, and money (yes, money is a factor) invested in the adoption of a child that isn’t actually coming home with you. Ever. Talk about gut-wrenching. That’s a level of emotional trauma that I just wouldn’t want to risk.

I think that about covers my arguments against surrogacy and adoption. You may have noticed that the topic of money has come up a few times over the past couple of posts. Coincidentally, next week’s post will cover the topics of cost and lifestyle change. Ok, maybe not coincidentally, because it’s kind of a perfect segue. Also, I already stated that money would be next week's topic.

As always, feel free to post any questions or comments. If anyone has any experiences, positive or negative, with the foster and/or adoption system, PLEASE comment; I’d love to hear about it.

Pregnancy

Last post, I focused on my concerns regarding genetics. I know that some people will argue that genetics shouldn’t be a reason to “give up on” having children. Some people will also argue that there are other options, like donor eggs.

Ok, I’ll bite. Let’s assume that either genetics aren’t a factor or that donor eggs aren’t prohibitively expensive (which they are). Or hell, let’s assume that I have an unlimited supply of money (which I very, very don’t). Now we run into the second issue in my lack of desire for children. Pregnancy.

I know what you’re thinking. There are ups and downs to every pregnancy, and every pregnancy is different. But the entire concept of a living thing growing inside my body absolutely freaks the living shit out of me. I straight-up can’t deal. You know how a lot of people see a pregnant lady and immediately want to touch her baby bump and feel the fetus kick/move/practice yoga? It took me until a week before the birth of my nephew to be able to drudge up the stomach to do that, and I only managed it with the help of a (legally prescribed, to me) benzodiazepine medication. And it still freaked me out.

Ever see those videos on the internet where a pregnant woman is laying on her back, and you can see a tiny fetal arm or leg kicking against the uterine wall? I get a sense of dread akin to that felt by Ellen Ripley in the dream sequence of Aliens. Whenever a friend or relative is pregnant, I think about how that would feel, and I get completely squicked out. We’re talking grade-A heebie jeebies. And then there’s the possible side effects of pregnancy. Ignoring the obvious weight gain and internal structural changes, there’s more than a few:

• Gnarly morning sickness
• Gestational diabetes
• Postpartum depression
• Braxton-Hicks contractions
• Preeclampsia
• Prodromal labor
• Gestational hypertension

So…those are some exciting prospects. Puking like crazy, constipation, high blood pressure, “false” labor. All before actually squeezing a watermelon through a hole as wide as a ping-pong ball. (Yes, I get that it stretches. It’s still gonna be uncomfortable, ok? And let’s not even get started on the horror stories about tearing and cutting and stitches.)

I’ve also heard that the flood of hormones that the body produces makes you feel less horrified by all of these things. I’ve heard this from several people who have already been pregnant. So just for craps and laughs, let’s assume that I can somehow not go into a blind panic every 10 seconds because of all the possible side effects of pregnancy. Remember in last week’s entry, when I discussed that I have bipolar disorder, depression and generalized anxiety disorder? Remember earlier in this post when I mentioned benzodiazepine medications?  Yeah, I take a variety of medications for my mental diseases.  I don’t like taking them, but I’ve learned that, in general, I need to take them in order to be a normally functioning member of society.  Without medical intervention, I become agitated, hostile, anxious, easily disturbed, and generally mean.  Being unmedicated is, for me, a terrible idea.  It’s been tried, and it has ended poorly. (Read: I had to take time off of work due to a breakdown, and I suspect it had a role in the loss of my job.) And each of the medications that I’m on (anticonvulsant, antidepressant, benzodiazepine) has the same warning: do not take while pregnant or nursing. The particular antidepressant that I’m on can be safely used in the first half of pregnancy, but can cause severe lung problems in a fetus if taken during the second half. I was born premature, with underdeveloped lungs and jaundice. The concept of deciding between my progeny’s health and my mental health is horrifying. Do I risk a child with ongoing lung disease (or worse, depending on the medications I continue to take) or do I risk becoming a danger to myself and/or others? How does one make that choice?

Now, certainly, some psychiatric medications can be used safely during pregnancy. “So why not just change your meds to safe ones?” you ask. The incredibly simple answer is: not all medications work for all people. It can take years to figure out the right combination of medications to successfully treat mental illness with a minimum amount of side effects. I’ve been treated for 10 years, and it’s taken almost that long to get the correct combination.  I don’t know how long this particular combo will continue to be effective. All I know for certain is that it’s working, and I do NOT want to fuck with that. There is a chance that the hormones associated with pregnancy will make medical intervention unnecessary for proper mental health, but it’s not guaranteed, and again, not a risk I’m willing to take.

“Ok, I get it. You’re not going to carry your own child,” you continue. “But that doesn’t mean you’re out of child-obtaining options! There’s still surrogacy or adoption!”

You’re right, reader. Those are viable options. And next week, I’ll get into why they’re not viable for me.

Genetics

Heads up: This blog post discusses mental health and suicide. It’s not terribly graphic, but some people may find it hard to read. I have included links to mental health resources in that segment.

As discussed in my first entry, I have some mental issues. I also have some health issues that are (at the time of initial publishing of this post) believed to be genetically linked. I realize, of course, that these issues are not guaranteed to be passed down to any offspring that I bear. I know that genetics don’t work that way. However, it does mean that any offspring I produce has a higher likelihood of having these conditions than if I did not. Some of them aren’t so bad, and are, in fact, more of a nuisance than anything else. Ingrown toenails, for example. But some of them are real doozies, and, well, fuck that. Here are some of the (believed to be genetic) issues (that a board-certified physician has diagnosed me with) for which I’ve received some kind of treatment:

•          Bipolar disorder type II
•          Generalized anxiety disorder (GAD)
•          Asthma
•          Cancer (in my case, basal cell carcinoma)

Now, these are just the things that I have personally had to handle. The family history goes on and on, with appearances from heart defects, gastro-type cancers, chronic depression, diabetes, hypertension, reproductive cancers, stroke, and, oh wait, yeah, more cancer. Fuck cancer, man. This is in no way an exhaustive list of the variety of genetically transmitted issues in my family, and who knows what kind of genetic scratch-off ticket I’d get if I decided to procreate? And frankly, I’m more attracted to people who are as mentally fucked up as I am, so even if I managed to find someone who had little or no cancerous family history, there’s a pretty good chance that I’d end up with someone who shares my mantra that they don’t suffer from mental illness, but take it out once in a while for some sushi and a nice bottle of Chardonnay.

Speaking of mental illness, let’s discuss the living hell that I have struggled with since my youth. Or not, because nobody wants to experience that shit. Seriously, I wouldn’t wish that on my ex, and I’d genuinely enjoy reenacting the sequence from Game of Thrones in which Viserys Targaryen receives his very special crown, with my ex playing the role of the Pauper King. (You get to guess which ex! It’s an exciting new game!)

Now, my brother and I share genes, obviously, as we’re siblings. So yes, there’s a fairly decent chance that his children may have some of the same issues that I do. If that should come to pass, I will absolutely, without the slightest hesitation, help him, his wife, and their children deal with it in any way that I can. Likewise if any of my friends find that they’re in a situation where they have children with depression, schizophrenia, or any other mental disorder, I will absolutely step up to the plate and do whatever I can to make their lives easier. Others who share some of the same issues have told me that they find it quite helpful to have someone who can directly relate to their experiences with whom they can casually converse. That godawful cycle of there’s-so-much-to-do-but-I’m-to-depressed-to-get-up-and-go-do-it-but-now-it’s-piling-up-into-an-incredibly-daunting-backlog-of-unfinished-tasks-that-I’m-getting-even-more-overwhelmed-and-depressed? Yup, hundo percent feeling you on that one. Hell, I’ll even offer you a suggestion on what has helped me deal with that in the past. It may not work for you, but it’s something to consider.

Clearly, my issue is not with helping those in need of a shoulder to lean on. My issue is the incredible amount of guilt stemming from the distinct possibility that any child I create will have to suffer through all that I did. There were several times in my life that I contemplated suicide, and more than one occasion upon which I attempted it. (Sorry, fam, if you’re just learning about this now.) There have been more times than I can count that, while not actively contemplating suicide, I quietly wished that I would simply not wake up after going to bed. It wasn’t that I was in such a bad state that I wanted to die; I merely no longer had any will to live.

*****A tangent: This has been an ongoing part of my brain for as long as I can remember. I came to the conclusion quite some time ago that I couldn’t kill myself because of the pain that it would cause the people that care about me. I may not feel that there are many of them, but the few that there are would be devastated. And I value them so greatly that I couldn’t possibly put them through that. Despite my feelings on the matter, I understand why other people can and would feel hopeless enough to commit suicide. I do not think that it’s the coward’s way out. I do not think less of people who commit suicide. I do not think that they’re bad people. I think that it’s tragic; nobody should ever have to feel that low. If you are feeling hopeless, helpless, out of control, or like you are going to harm yourself or others, I implore you to call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (US), visit crisistextline.org to get help via text message (US), call Suicide Action Montreal at 1-866-APPELLE (Canada, French and English), visit www.suicide.org to find a local suicide prevention line, or visit samaritans.org for help in the UK.  Tangent over.*****

I do not want to have someone else’s mental anguish on my conscience. It’s not ok for me. So my first reason for not wanting children is genetics. My genes are a shitshow. Throw someone else’s into the mix, and we could end up with anchovy and limburger soup with a side of aspartame-coated durian. (Look it up.)

“But Kitty,” you protest, unsatisfied that I’m capable of making reproductive decisions without your input, because clearly, I haven’t heard the same arguments for the past decade. “There are other options! There’s donated eggs! There’s adoption! There’s—“

Yes, reader. I’m ever-so-aware of the myriad other options. And some of them will be addressed in the upcoming posts. Not all, because there’s more to it than the manner in which I wish to…not…acquire children. But for now, genetics is the first reason in my decision not to reproduce.

As previously stated,  to...ut somen the cups genetics. My genes are a shitshow. Throw in someone else'e would be devastated. A if anyone has any questions, or any topics that they would like to see tackled, please feel free to drop a comment.  *Obligatory Medical Warning: This blog is not intended to stand in for medical advice. If you are concerned about your health, mental or physical, do not assume that this blog contains the most accurate and up-to-date medical information. If you have concerns, see your doctor. If you are in severe distress, call 911 or your local emergency number and seek immediate assistance. I’m not a doctor, please don’t sue me because I have opinions that you mistake for medical fact.*

An Intro

I'm Kitty, I'm 29 years old (at the time of the original publishing of this post, anyway), and I Do Not Want Children. Please note the formatting of that last bit: bold, italic, underlined, and with the first letter of each word capitalized for emphasis.  I came to this realization when I was young, and was cemented in the decision to never have kids by the time I was 16 years old. I do not, under any circumstances, have a desire to raise or care for children. I do not like children. I have absolutely no reason to believe that "it will be different when they're [your] own," and I think it's ludicrous that people insist that I put the well-being of myself, my (potential) life partner, and a hypothetical child or two in jeopardy just to find out if this ridiculous theory is true.

Over the first few posts, I'd like to break down the reasons that I, personally, do not have any desire to raise children. There are several, and they're not necessarily straightforward, so I'll be breaking it down into chunks. I realize that my reasons may not ring true for other women who choose not to have children. I realize that some of my reasons may seem completely irrational, and they may well be. I'm not a scientist, but I do have enough intelligence to be able to do some research, and therefore, I have. Some of what I've based my decisions upon may have been since disproven. While I invite people to share scientific findings (particularly those based on genetics, because that shit's cool and also I'd like to know if I am or am not effectively destined to have Disease X), I would also like to remind everyone that the science in my reasoning behind not having children is only one LEGO in the giant LEGO tower of reasons that keeps my uterus locked above a boiling moat of lava, guarded by a chemical dragon, and inhabited by a hormone-coated, t-shaped plastic spike. There is absolutely nothing on this planet that will change my decision. If humanity was destined to die out if I refused to produce offspring, then say sayonara to homo sapiens, because we're goners if that's the case.

Just so readers get a clear view of who I am, allow me to explain a few things:

1. I am genetically female, and I identify as such. This is currently known as being cisgendered female. I was born with only female genitals, female genetic markers, and at puberty, developed female secondary sex characteristics. I do not have any hormonal imbalances that make me more masculine than any other "average" female person. (Note that average is in quotes. This is not meant to trigger anyone.)
2. I identify as bisexual. I am equally sexually attracted to both male and female persons. I have never believed that this has had any influence whatsoever on my desire to have children.
3. I have not had any major traumas in my life that would lead me to hate or fear children. My family was not murdered by children, I was not tortured by children or as a child, I was exposed to children when I was young, but not in such great quantities as to have caused some kind of horrific issue. 
4. I have had experience with children during my childhood, adolescence, teenaged years, and adulthood. None of these experiences has changed my views, save to further solidify my decision that I do not ever want children.
5. I have a bevy of anxiety-based disorders that cause...interesting reactions when I'm put in high-stress situations, particularly if they're social in nature. Children, for those of you who haven't noticed, have an inherently social aspect to them, particularly when they're in the toddler stage. This causes my anxiety to explode.

Well, I think that's enough about my back-story to get anyone started. The next few posts will tackle my main contributing factors in my decision to remain childless before delving into social issues, interviews, and things of the like. That said, if anyone has any questions, or any topics that they would like to see tackled, please feel free to drop a comment!  I'd like to be as transparent as possible, because I'd like the people who don't "get" my viewpoint to have a better understanding of where I come from, and I'd like for other women who make the decision not to have children to feel comfortable with their decision and not feel vilified for it. Ultimately, our lives are our own to control. That includes our reproduction, in case you were wondering.