Why Isn't My Biological Clock Ticking (Louder)?

Some girls start making lists of their children's names when they're still kids themselves. And some girls don't. Some of us graduate from college and spend our 20s and 30s living life to the full with no interest in babies. For some, that lack of interest lasts a lifetime. Because some women just don't want to be mothers. And that's OK. But often that choice is judged negatively, as if not being a mother means you are not a real woman. If the reaction isn't negative it can be patronising, as if it hasn't been a real choice and you'll change your mind. Why can't we be more respectful of this decision? Hillary Fields tackles the subject in today's piece.

It begins when, during my annual exam, I tell my GP that I’ve just gotten married. “Oh," she says, “You’d better start having your babies now. You only have two or three years.”

A-whah?

When I’m finished doing my double take, I am able to focus in on the tiny, earnest woman who is still talking at me. “Now that you’re married, you can start to have children. But since you’re 32, you should start now. Women over 35 have a much harder time conceiving and carrying healthy babies.”

I haven’t been living under a rock for the past three decades, so this is not news to me. “I hate to break it to you, doc,” I say, “but I was capable of bearing children before I wed. And you didn’t bring up the subject then.”

She smiles as though this is a very funny joke, and then gets serious again. “No, really. Start thinking about your family right away, or you will regret it.”

“Dr. ___,"I say, “I’m really not sure I want to have kids.”

This does not appear to be information of great import to my physician. “Even so, you should do it now. You don’t want to wait until it’s too late, and you find out you haven’t any eggs left.”

Demurring as politely as I can under duress, I reply, “I’m not going to have children just in case I might someday want them. That doesn’t sound like a smart idea.” I figure this will be the end of the subject, and we can turn to more important things, like my ludicrously high cholesterol or the mole on my back I’m not sure I’ve always had.

But no.

“I’m serious,” she stresses with the air of a woman who wants to be 100 percent diligent about discharging her duty. “You should know that if you delay now, you may regret it later. I’m just giving you the facts.”

This is a bit pushy, even for me as a native New Yorker used to dealing with pushy people.

“I get it, Dr. ____. I’m just not in a position to bring a child into my life at this juncture. Financially, we’re not set up for it. We’d have to string the kid from a hammock on our studio apartment’s ceiling to make room for it.” Time for a new topic now, surely.

Nope.

“People have children all the time when they’re not secure financially,” she presses.

“Do those kids go to college?” I shoot back.

Finally the exam (or cross-exam) is over and I’m back on the street. I find myself fuming mad, but also ... ashamed.

Because the truth is, I’m not sure I’ll ever want kids, and apparently, this is unnatural.

What’s wrong with me? I’ve got oodles of awwws for puppies and kittens. I melt over baby pandas and bunnies and such. But human offspring? Not only do they all resemble Winston Churchill to me, they elicit no such admiration as did the great man. They drool, they squawk, they poop all over themselves—when they’re not vomiting, sneezing, or coughing up a tiny, itty-bitty lung.

Oh, I’ve heard the reassurances. “It’s different when they’re your own.” This pap doesn’t reassure me, however. What if it’s not different? And, hey, what if I simply don’t have a maternal bone in my body?

I’m not sure what makes me more uncomfortable. Seeming unfeeling—and unfeminine—to society at large, or wondering if, later in life, I will regret it if I don’t have children. Will my life seem empty? Will I wrestle daily with what-ifs? Do people like my doctor know something about life I don’t know?

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve sworn up and down I’d never have children of my own. Unless I were visited by the Ghost of Kiddies Future, begging me to bear them, I’ve always felt it’s ... I don’t know ... presumptuous to bring a life into the world without permission. Perhaps this is because, until I was in my late 20s, I myself wasn’t particularly glad to be on the planet. I suffered from major depression (among other things) and had a difficult childhood raised by parents who, it was clear, would have been better off not being parents. I was always loved, but love was an odd thing sometimes. And my mother was no great model of maternal mushiness. She was (and is) a great woman, but she simply didn’t do Donna Reed.

But wait ... what about hubby? I married a man as emotionally connected as I am detached, a fella who coos “boojie boojie boo” at every tot who happens to occupy a high chair at a nearby restaurant table, a man so sweet, so full of love that I just know he’d be the best papa ever in the world. Does he secretly long for a little girl or boy? A little. But he knew the drill when he married me. I told him I might never get to a place where I wanted rug-rats.

Still, wouldn’t it be a great gift to give the man I love the children that might make his life more complete? Don’t I love him enough to rearrange my world and my expectations and my comforts, change the course of my future so that his will be fulfilled?

Honestly, I don’t know. Two-and-a-half years after that uncomfortable doctor’s appointment, trembling on the verge of statistical ovarian decrepitude, nothing has changed. I’m still child-free, still not feeling a crater of emptiness in my womb or any place else. But will that still be the case in five years, or 10, when it’s just too damn late?

I want some sort of sign to help me decide what to do. And here’s where I curse my sluggish biology. My hormones simply haven’t kicked up a ruckus to help sway me toward being a mother. They aren’t weighing in, making emotional demands, the way I hear they’re supposed to. Legend speaks volumes about the fabled biological clock that starts ticking for women, a haunting toll that begins following you around like Poe’s telltale heart, growing louder and more urgent the longer you wait. For my mom, it was one of the deciding factors in having me and my brother. One day, she says, she started looking at kids in strollers and thinking they were cute, when she had never noticed them before.

Well, they’re still not cute to me. Not yet. I wonder if someone’s smothered my particular alarm clock with a pillow, or unplugged it, or what. Because, if my doctor is to be believed, I’m counting the final seconds off on my fertility countdown, and if I don’t act soon, the option will be off the table.

Perhaps the silence is, in itself, the answer for which I’ve been waiting. Maybe it’s not meant to be, not for me.

I just wish I knew for sure.

Hillary Fields is a New York-based writer, editor, and web producer.

Tags: choice, Hillary Fields, kids, motherhood, women

Emma Gilbey Keller ’s book, The Comeback: Seven Stories of Women Who Went from Career to Family and Back Again is available in paperback and makes a great gift. Emma lives with her husband, Bill Keller, their two daughters and their dog. Follow her on Twitter @EmmaGKeller

Comments

Whatever decision any of you

By: juliab | Tue, 12/01/2009 - 15:45

Whatever decision any of you makes, it's wonderful to see that people understand the gravity of the decision to have children. Not everyone is mean to be a parent, or will make a good parent. It makes you thoughtful and introspective, not bad somehow, if you realize that you're not bound for parenthood.

No clock of any kind

By: redwing | Tue, 12/01/2009 - 10:58

I never heard it tick, I never wanted or liked kids or planned to have any. I heard all the stories and was annoyed by every one of them. When my parents unexpectedly died within a week of each other (and very young), I, in what I am sure was not a healthy mental decision, decided that if I didn't have kids, they would truly be dead forever. So I had a crazy reason for having my first kid and I struggled with the "what if I don't like him when he gets here?" and the "is this all there is" when he got here. But as he passed from baby to toddler, I liked it more and more. And eventually I converted and decided to have another.

My point is, many paths are winding stairs. And this myth that all women feel maternal and all women love babies and all women yadda yadda is crap. Some of us never felt it, but managed to have kids and enjoy it anyway. Its hard for you to know in advance what type you will be, which is the hard part, but do not assume b/c you have no clock and do not like kids that that will be true forever or that it is even an impediment to eventual parenthood if that is what you choose. There is no set way to feel about this issue. Good luck.

I always knew I wanted

By: Rosomaqa | Sat, 11/28/2009 - 14:37

I always knew I wanted children, but not too early. Always thought 33 seemed like a good age, however, depression and other problems intervened. When I started trying to get pregnant, I was almost 36. Got pregnant on the first try, had a very early miscarriage, a week after the date of the missed period. Tried again next cycle, got pregnant, had a completely problem-free pregnancy. Now I'm almost 40, got pregnant on the second cycle of trying.
My mother had my brother at 39, also without any problems .
Yes, statistically fertility declines with age. It doesn't mean having children after 35 is necessarily problematic or impossible, far from it.

no regrets

By: MarylanderM | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 22:35

I had the same ambivalence, waiting for something to "click"...because what you hear often from women--all that about the "longing" and the "need to feel complete"...just didn't resonate--it wasn't a part of me either and I thought that was it's own answer. It wasn't until I was 40 that I asked myself a very different question. Was motherhood an experience I was prepared to live without. By then, the answer was no. We discovered fertility problems by then--problems that had no doubt been there all along. Rather than spend a small fortune and more time combating those, we decided it was the experience, not just the biology we were committing to. We decided to adopt, and wound up becoming the parents of a 16-month old and a 26 month old at the same time. Life altering? Oh, yeah. But honestly, the single best decision I have ever made in my life. They are the loves of our lives and I can't imagine now my life without these two amazingly beautiful kids in it. Was I wrong before 40 to reject motherhood? No. Was I right after 40 to embrace it? Yes. The lesson is that like so many other things in life, there is no road map. No one can answer this for you. Even your mate. But I will share one more thing. I honestly didn't know I had this much love in me to give. Somethings are just worth finding out for yourself.

46, childless, happy

By: EyesGlazed | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 21:28

I read Hillary's piece with interest because I too never felt that biological urge. What I did feel, especially in my late thirties, was a lot of societal pressure to produce children while I still could. That was a lousy time in my life, frankly. At the same time as I was achieving professional success and coming into my own socially and financially, I still had to deal with the unasked-for "concern" of people who for whatever reason wanted to impose their agenda on me. Like Hillary, I wondered: do these people know something I don't? Am I a clueless idiot just pretending that I'm okay with not having children? But my late thirties passed into my early forties and now my mid-forties, and guess what? I'm very happy with my life. What's more, I am so glad that everyone has deemed my clock to be expired and no one bothers me about having children any more. I think it certainly helps that I have a large extended family and a busy, satisfying career. So I'm not so tempted to have/adopt a child just to save me from being alone. But the societal pressure is definitely out there and I don't quite understand why that is. Here's an idea, maybe too overwrought, but for what it's worth: maybe the decline of organized religion and faith in authority figures and institutions has led people to put all their self-worth into having children. That would certainly explain the helicopter parenting and idiotic media attention to so-called mommy wars. It might also explain why our society thinks it's okay to pressure women to procreate.

accidents?

By: kyoungers | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 19:18

Oh, for god's sake. How can most pregnancies possibly be accidents? Everyone knows what causes pregnancy. If you don't use birth control or use it incorrectly, then your pregnancy is not an accident. Period.

Some women like to claim that they got pregnant accidentally as a way of forcing the issue on a reluctant husband/boyfriend. I've seen that happen four times just in my small circle of acquaintances (I'm only 35).

Also: the biological clock is a myth. It's a tired metaphor that assumes all women are destined for motherhood but some are too stupid to realize it. Yes, it's possible to rarely think about motherhood, reach age 39, and suddenly start freaking out about not having kids. However, it is NOT possible to be convinced from childhood that you don't want kids and then suddenly change your mind for no reason other than your age. We have brains, people. We are not walking wombs.

I'm surprised how many

By: sjneal | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 17:17

I'm surprised how many posters discount maternal urges or a "biological clock" just because they don't experience the same feelings. I certainly don't discount any woman's decision not to have kids, even though I have never felt that way. For women who want children, it can be a very real, very emotional, very primal urge. I have always wanted children, and only waited until my late 20's for financial reasons. My pregnancies were planned, not accidents. If I had not been lucky enough to meet my husband early in my adult life, I'm sure my "clock" would have been going off like a tornado siren and I likely would have gone the single mom adoption route. I do think there is something embedded in our biological nature that creates the desire to have children or not, like any other genetic trait. If you don't have that urge, don't have kids, and don't ever feel guilty for that choice. They are incredibly demanding, unforgiving creatures who depend entirely on their caregivers for years. I don't know how I would manage the hard work of raising them if I wasn't sure I wanted them.

Children don't go to college unless parents pay for it?

By: hobbes02 | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 16:41

I don't understand why time and time again, the media implies that it is impossible for a child to go to college unless his/her parents pay for it (I'm addressing the argument the author had with her doctor about financial stability). It is blatantly untrue. I completely agree with waiting to conceive until feeling financially secure, but perpetuating this horrible myth is a disservice to both the parents who can't afford to pay for college and to children of such parents. All it does is discourage everyone who hears it and ignores the fact that scholarships, loans, and grants are widely available.

My parents couldn't afford to pay for my college education, nor for the college education of my five siblings. Neither one of them were college educated, either, but that didn't stop them from encouraging and telling us to go to college, and then helping figure out how to make that happen. Yes, I am still paying for my student loans. Yes, they are burdensome and I wish I didn't have them, but because of my college education I have a better job and get paid more (and yes, it still more than offsets my student loan payments) than if I had not bothered with it because "my parents can't pay for it."

I hope my biological clock is digital so I never hear it tick...

By: paraveina | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 16:41

I'm only 24, but I decided when I was about 10 that I didn't want kids. I've found that people think it's appropriate to tell me "Oh you'll change your mind" like I'm a complete idiot that is incapable of coherent thought. I've taken to referring to children as "parasites" and "tumors" and that's curtailed the comments a bit, but people sometimes still persist.

I also wanted to respond to

By: buggie | Tue, 11/24/2009 - 15:28

I also wanted to respond to the question of the biological clock/chemical "need" to have children. I think this is a major MYTH. I was driving late one night and listened to Love Line with Dr. Drew (I know, I know). I usually respect Dr. Drew, but this particular night he made this ADAMANT claim that "ALL WOMEN HAVE A BIOLOGICAL DRIVE TO HAVE CHILDREN." I do not have this drive. At all. I don't feel it. Am I not a woman then? Last time I checked, I have all my lady parts and menstruate every month. I have long hair and wear dresses. I have to wonder if all the women who claim to have this biological drive actually do, or if they've just been told for so long that they should have it that they pretend to or actually convince themselves of it.

I think ALL if this is a scare tactic to oppress women. "You will regret it if you don't have kids. If you wait to until you're ready, you'll be too old. If you do have kids, they'll be deformed and have autism and three eyeballs. There's a deadline. It's the most important thing in the world, and there's a deadline. You will never be able to live with yourself if you miss this one all-important deadline. even if you don't think you'll regret it, oh trust us, you will." Sounds like someone's trying to keep us out of the office eh, ladies? We can't compete with men if we spend our 30s barefoot and pregnant.