The problem with women’s support groups

I might alienate myself more with this post, but better to unleash it here than let it burn internally. If this doesn’t agree with your experience, that’s kinda the point…

Yesterday, I had an APRN at my ketamine clinic tell me that there was a women’s support group for prenatal mental health. She got a lot of benefit from it for her anxiety, which she was sure I could relate to. I should try it because it was very helpful for her. The way that this suggestion was presented pissed me off…and not just because this provider knew absolutely nothing about me or why I was doing ketamine treatments at this clinic, and we’d had about ten minutes total of interaction.

“It’s a women’s support group.”

I stared at her blankly………..Yes? And? Women/females make up half of the population on this planet. The only broader category would be a “human support group”. 

“Most of my friends are childless for a reason. I don’t connect well with other moms. There are few things that make me feel lonelier than sitting in a room full of women.”

She gave me a dirty look. 

I should hypothetically have lots in common with other pregnant or postpartum women struggling with a mood disorder. Except that’s literally not how the female experience works. Let’s dig into some math first. 

“In 2015–2019, 56.7% of women and 44.8% of men aged 15–49 had ever had a child. In 2015–2019, 13.2% of women aged 15–24 and 84.3% of those aged 40–49 had ever had a biological child.”-CDC.

By the way, about 15% of women have prenatal/postnatal mood disorders. 

That boils down to about 4.25% of the total population. (100% (humans) * 50% (females) * 56.7% (women who have borne children) * 15% (women with prenatal/postnatal mood disorders)

Sounds pretty small, right? Like an exclusive group. Let me put this into perspective. 

Imagine you’re at Walmart with 100 adults and miraculously line them up side-by-side. Telling men to sit down leaves 50 women; you instruct childless women to join them, reducing the number to four (13.4%). Now, select four seemingly random women from the remaining 46 and suggest they gather to discuss shared concerns. What level of connection do you anticipate?

Natural redheads make up 2% of the population. 8-11% of women are left-handed. 

“What would two random women who are left-handed have in common?”

Excellent question. Actually, a lot more than you’d think. Probably more than any two random moms when you factor in what genetic components lead someone to be left-handed, etc. Assuming that two moms with kids around the same age will have anything in common is like assuming that your gay niece/nephew needs to meet your gay friend because they’re *gasp* also gay! 

The obvious question begged “Um…can you tell me more about them? Their personality? Interests? Occupation? Anything?”

No. Ejecting a human from your body is what defines you now. You two can watch the little buggers play while you try and find common ground around how long your labor was, what size diapers they’re in, and other critically life-defining factoids. Anything else about you as an individual ceased mattering upon your child’s conception. If you’re LGBT, your status is further erased as the world is not even set up to understand or accommodate why or how you exist at all, let alone as a mother.

This is why trying to find “mom friends” is so difficult. It’s arbitrarily making the assumption that finding another female with a child should be the first filter or criteria. Why? Part of this criteria is so that you can drag your kids along and hope that they play together while you have a consistently-interrupted conversation to take care of their needs.

Except, this approach is a complete crap-shoot. It should be “Find someone else who you like hanging out with. If they happen to have kids, great. If not, go tell your kids to play with rocks or go outside. Sit on the couch and nurse. Whatever.”

The 4.25% calculation above is also only referring to women who have borne biological children. It doesn’t include adoptive or stepmothers who also go through the experience of raising the little goblins once they’re here. But it strangely does include natural mothers who give up their children for adoption. 

If you’ve ever spoken to a female who has had a period, been pregnant, given birth, or parented, you know that no two females are the same. In fact, we have way more differences than we do things in common because there are so many variances in female anatomy. A group of women talking about the process of bringing children into the world mostly consists of only comparing differences because the similarities are too vague and broad to be meaningful. 

“I was in labor for fourteen hours!”

“I was in labor for an hour and forty-five minutes!”

“I pushed for five minutes and tore from hole to hole!”

“I pushed for two hours and needed a C-section because the baby got stuck!”

“My baby weighed seven pounds”

“Oh, that’s so little! Mine was ten pounds!”

The intensity, placement, and overall experience of labor pain differs tremendously from baby to baby, let alone female to female. Some women never feel labor pain. Some feel like they’re being torn to shreds. Some undergo a C-section while others birth in their living room. Oh, and postpartum? This ranges from “My vagina/butthole feels a bit sore, but everything else is good!” to “My twins died, and I literally cannot walk without feeling like my guts will spill out on the floor.”

Women are extremely variable, unique creatures. We are not machines. All of those variables, unless they are on the tail ends of the bell curve (extremes), give us less in common with each other. Groups geared towards women with specific interests or very specific struggles could potentially have benefit (mothers who have lost children to suicide or women who are trying to kick smoking). “Mental health struggles” is an insanely broad category. It’s almost like saying “You all can bond over having a womb together!” because that’s at least addressing a specific body part. Except we know that’s not how it works because we already live with that subconsciously.

The only thing that women who have menstrual blood all have in common is that their bodies are trying to get rid of menstrual blood. I cannot say that all women bleed because there are women who are born with their hymens closed. Birth control alters the reasons and timing for bleeding (withdrawal bleeding from the 5-day gap in pulls vs actual sloughing of menstrual blood). And let’s not forget that getting a period is not what makes you a woman as there are women who are born without ovaries, vaginas, and literally everything in between.

The only thing that women who get pregnant all have in common is this: you were/are pregnant. Many women miscarry and feel the experience differently from miscarriage to miscarriage. The timing, emotions, circumstances, etc. are all going to differ. The only thing that women who give birth all have in common is that they expelled a human from their body. Can we just be honest for a minute and acknowledge that two people with irritable bowel syndrome will probably have more experiences in common than two random mothers? 

Women are not machines. We do not operate on set clocks. We are tremendously complicated animals. Most medicinal studies intentionally leave women out completely for this reason, and it’s why medications are often much more successful in treating men than women. Hey, researchers…food for thought: if your data excludes thousands of variables and the thousands or millions of individuals whom that medication is intended to treat, your data is probably garbage.

You know that 28 day “average” for period length? Average does not mean “most” or “majority”. Only about 16% of women actually have 28 day cycles. Yes, you have been lied to your entire life. That is not the standard. Remember middle-school math where we talk about mean, median, range, mode, etc.? That’s where this applies. The normal range is 21 to 35 (or more) days. Yes, that is over half of the month in variability. If you have one woman with an average length of 25 days between periods and another with 45 days between periods, the average length will be 34.5 days. Do either women actually have this cycle length? No.

Your period is a major measure of your health. It’s full of information for how your overall health is, and the norm differs from female to female. Too many women spend their lives comparing themselves to the imaginary standard rather than tuning into their own bodies. If they do tune into their bodies, they are often criticized by healthcare providers who are comparing them to the nonexistent standard.

Say this with me: I am a female. “Average” does not apply to me. 

So, what do women have in common?

The similarities of being a woman come a lot less from our anatomy and a lot more from cultural and external experiences imposed on us by other people because of our being women. Here are the ones that I could think of. 

Pap smears suck. I don’t know even one woman who likes having a pap smear done. Funny thing is that the speculum was initially rejected and feared when it was first invented. Providers were worried about women having an orgasm on the table once the speculum was introduced into their vaginas. Comical…I know. 

You know what really gets me off? Cold hard metal. Getting scraped on the inside. Gloved hands. Mmmmmmmm. 

Being vigilant for your safety

If I walk through any parking lot, especially at night, I have my keys in hand and am constantly looking around. I push my chest out and shoulders back and walk with purpose. I have a half-baked plan of how I’d gouge someone’s eye out if approached. I plan how I’d react if held at gunpoint. Do I scream or fight back? Both? Neither? Would I let someone rape me if it’d mean that I’d live? 

I live with the subconscious knowledge that half of the humans on this planet could murder me with relative ease if they were in the mood to do so.

Obviously, the degree of fear varies from person-to-person. But women in general have a lot more to fear than men when they’re around other people.

When I’m out with my dad, he behaves in ways that make me think “What’s it like to live with no fear?” 

We were in a part of town that was a bit seedy. He left the driver’s side door wide open to run into an apartment complex to deliver the Instacart order. I sat there in the passenger’s seat, aghast, before reaching over and closing his door. He does this at gas stations too, nonchalantly playing on his phone with the door wide open, not once glancing around. This differs from my experience of locking the car door the instant that I enter the vehicle and never leaving it wide open. I vaguely check under the car as well depending on time-of-day and where I’m parked. And unless I have someone with me, I don’t go out alone after 10. 

Experiencing sub-par options in healthcare

It’s par for the course that at some point in your life as a woman, a medical provider will dismiss your intolerable symptoms or feelings of discomfort as simply being part of being female. You will likely take a prescription medication that was developed for the male body instead of your own and deal with side effects as a result. The reason behind the uniqueness of your body will be almost completely unknown to your provider, and they will maybe be able to treat your symptoms at most without any idea as to why it’s not working how “it’s supposed to”. 

“Hormones” is supposed to be a satisfactory explanation for your problems. You’re supposed to be accepting of it being a mystical world that your healthcare provider will not care to delve into for fear of exposing themselves as not knowing it all. After all, why is it their problem that your female body is so darned complicated?

Unless you are giving birth. Apparently, the pain of childbirth is one area that really makes men leap into action with drugs. Probably because you’re in an extremely vulnerable position and not going to turn down the expensive drugs to block the pain. Supporting you in the process would take too much effort.

The above statement is not at all intended to shame or guilt women who receive epidurals. Sometimes they help you to relax enough to have your baby. I’ve had six babies out of hospital; I 100% get why you wouldn’t want to feel it. This isn’t a weakness or fault in you. I’m saying that inductions and epidurals themselves are not without side or cascading effects, and the actual risks and side effects are nearly never disclosed at the time that the drug is administered. But at least “modern medicine” gets to save the day masquerading as having done you a favor. Taking the batteries out of the smoke alarm does not put out the fire. Again, I’m not saying that your wanting to avoid pain is the problem. It’s why I hate the word “natural” when used in conjunction with childbirth or food; it’s weaponized for superiority. I’m saying that if your health and comfort and your baby’s were the point of the drug, there would be better options available that would achieve the same goal. Until then, we take what we can get. 

Dealing with lack of accommodations.

When I was in high school, I’d have my mom check me out for two class periods on the first day of my period each month. I’d sit in a hot bath for 30 minutes, eat a banana, then return to school with a heated rice sock because “Yay..this is fine..”

Junior year, after being hunched over my desk for 20-30 minutes, I had to excuse myself from AP US History to vomit because my cramps were so intense. Didn’t quite make it to a trash can and puked on the cafeteria floor.

I took the ACT when I was on my period. I felt under the weather and mildly distracted. I know with near certainty that I was not the only one in the room bleeding that day. Having my first baby got rid of most of my cramps. But it also made it so that gas pains literally hurt as much as active labor. Some women have this experience or never had cramps. Some spend puberty through menopause incapacitated by their cramps.

About a quarter of women of childbearing age in the workplace will be menstruating at any given time. We’re held to the same standard of excellence as our penis-ed counterparts who are not cramping, experiencing migraines, mood swings or dysphoria, nausea, hot flashes, or literally sitting in their own blood. We’re expected to carry on as if we are at 80-100%. Our issues are cliched and ridiculed rather than accommodated. Our needs become the butt of jokes rather than treated with compassion.

If you’re pregnant in the workplace, it’s maybe slightly better because there’s an obvious “No, I’m not functionally as usual” indicator. You usually have to use the restroom way more, walk with a different gait, and become the butt of jokes for keeping snacks at your desk. People in general enjoy commenting on women’s bodies. Pregnancy feels like a free pass to comment, and the workplace is no exception. 

I’ve interviewed for four jobs while visibly pregnant. It doesn’t matter that it’s illegal to discriminate against pregnant women. Unless the individual with whom you’re interviewing is exceptionally progressive, understanding, or generally sensible about pregnant women not inherently being morons, it will hurt your chances because you look like an expensive liability.  

Thankfully, I’ve already worked my butt off to prove that I’m worth keeping and taking care of as an employee. -_- I will be enjoying six weeks of paid time off when #7 arrives in June as the result of my hard labor (ha). And that’s because I’m incredibly lucky. 

If you’re an American woman, it is nearly guaranteed that having a baby will hurt your career in some way. Unless you work for a relatively progressive company working a “desk-job” or hold a managerial position within a large company, you will likely receive zero paid maternity leave. 

Dealing with internalized misogyny 

You know the cliche about women having more drama than men? I’m calling BS. In any environment where men are not involved or haven’t imposed their standards, women generally don’t have issues with each other. Being competitive is not an inherent female quality. It’s what happens when women internalize the misogyny (attitude that women are inferior to men) around them and project those insecurities onto other women.

I’m tired of meeting women who feel the need to prove that they’re better than other women. I’m tired of women feeling like they need to try so hard. 

It comes in the form of trying t be aesthetically pleasing when your soul is just tired. It comes from drawing a sense of accomplishment not from fulfilling your own needs or achieving your own goals but doing better than her. It’s pointing out her flaws to others in hopes that it makes you appear better. It’s giving attention and respect to those who haven’t earned it. It’s letting others have more of a say in your own life than yourself. 

Does this mean that women are above reproach? No. Does it mean that women shouldn’t or can’t be held accountable? No, we’re adults too. It means women working within themselves to find what they want rather than accepting a package labeled “What’s supposed to work for you to be acceptable to others”.

Other people making things your problem

This could be laundry, emotions, organizing their life, whatever it is. 

As a woman, you become the responsible party for assisting others in dealing with their feelings or removing feelings of discomfort for them without the other person or group noticing that you were even involved. It’s just expected. You can tell how “good of a job” you’re doing by how many people are upset around you. 

I grew up feeling like men were typically inept creatures who couldn’t emotionally handle being asked to do menial work (dishes, laundry, vacuuming, etc.), communicate needs (saying “I want” instead of ridiculing others for not knowing or behaving differently), or keep track of basic tasks (keys, wallet, appointments). I grew up watching my male relatives behave like the women were there to take care of everything for them so that they could be successful. Their job was to show up and be amazing while someone else ensured that everything was taken care of. (Hi, Mom. I see you!) Expectations of contributing in any way other than changing the oil, bringing in a paycheck, or berating others into taking care of work threatened their security and status as a highly intelligent, driven male with far more important things to worry about. And that was if they contributed at all. I watched other male relatives take advantage of their mothers and sisters’ kindness and compassion regularly with unabashed entitlement. I watched men stand to the side and watch as a man verbally ripped a woman to shreds.

Protecting the women in their life would take up too much space, or they just weren’t aware of that they needed protecting. Women deserved to be put in their place. If a woman was disrespected by another male (including their sons), they probably deserved to hear it. I’d never known what it was like to be treated like anything but a means to an end for a man’s needs or filling in for their unwillingness to take responsibility. 

And then I met my husband at sixteen. I suddenly felt like being a woman meant something special. I finally felt valued for my intellect instead of ridiculed for it or threatened by it. I felt beautiful in my appearance instead of something to be abhorred or devoured for its influence. I found safety and respect. I found the person who I trusted to take care of me and our babies. I found home. 

I met my father-in-law and understood where he got it from. I met the man who had zero issue acknowledging that his wife was a beautiful creature who deserved care and respect. I finally met a man who felt no shame or disgust in women’s bodies menstruating, carrying children, or birthing them. I met a man who wouldn’t allow his sons to ever raise their voice at their mother and had no qualms with putting them in their place. I met a man who was sympathetic to his daughters and the plight of women in general. He became a grandpa who wasn’t above changing diapers, dispensing snacks between holding babies and taking the kids for turns around the block on his motorcycle.

When you’ve been treated a certain way for so long, you don’t realize that there are other options. 

What has made me a stronger women?

Learning how to use my voice and advocate for myself. I let my clinic know about that provider’s suggestion and behavior as not being appropriate for my situation. You don’t start with ketamine as the first-step for depression. It’s what you do when nothing else has worked. I got a call from my regular provider within the hour, who apologized and said that they would be coaching the other (new) provider.

Asking for what I need. I’m learning that it’s other people’s job to say “yes” or “no”, not mine to assume or guess what their answer would be. I’ve negotiated several remote-work situations this way as well as a raise at work. This is how I get what I need from Damon instead of burdening him with trying to figure it out. I will probably not get what I want if I do not ask directly. 

Until I’m willing to defend my life and body the same way that men are willing to defend their bots, toys, guns, and drones, I cannot expect to be taken seriously.

Holding others accountable. I no longer put up with others making their problems my problems. I refuse to care more than the other person does about solving their problems. If it bothers them enough to make changes, they will. If not, it is not my responsibility to keep offering solutions. If people are not doing what they agreed to do, I call them out on it and ask why. I stop making excuses for other people by taking it upon myself to fill in. 

Boundaries. I cut off a relative who had hurt others (and maintains a track record of being a tactless, immature, and misogynistic human being) despite protests from some family members that it would make family events more complicated. I have another relative with whom I keep minimal contact as they have proven themselves untrustworthy. I do not care how inconvenient my decision has been for family functions. I do not have to tolerate certain behaviors to make others’ lives easier, especially if it comes at the expense of my safety or my family’s.

I make a heavy effort to remember that my job is not my life. They are paying to “rent my brain” for a certain amount of time during the day. I owe them nothing more than what they give.

Priorities Today, I needed to process my experience with the provider yesterday (ergo writing this entire post). I let the house go, ignored the kids, and ate two packs of Justin’s dark chocolate peanut butter cups. 

And most importantly…I’m teaching my daughters the same lessons so that the world can incrementally become better. 

I’m glad when women find peace and connection with other woman as it is genuinely something that I will forever be envious of. I’m happy when women find solutions that work for them, support-group or otherwise. I love when women dig enough into themselves to meet their own needs. If lacking a connection is the problem, then finding a connection is obviously a solution. For those of us who will likely walk alone in our journeys, we need other solutions. For those of us with issues that cannot be resolved by connection and talking, we do require other solutions.

So no, I don’t want to sit in a room with other women who are experiencing similar symptoms with a world of differences beneath the surface. I’m over being made to feel guilty or lesser than for not accepting “talking” as a solution to my very physical issues. I’m tired of having my experience as a woman dismissed by other women unwilling to accept that their experience is not the standard and that my solutions need not validate theirs. 

The solution I’ve seen proposed for women throughout my life has been this…

“Let the women go into a room and talk about their feelings so that we don’t have to make any real, tangible, or substantial changes to improve their well-being.”

Stop settling. We put a man on the moon fifty-five years ago. Why are you still hurting? 

My thoughts on childfree people

I’ve got a large family and a religious predisposition. So, how do I feel about those who are childfree? If you’re one of those childfree folks, then this post is for you.

Quick note: “Childfree” refers to those who do not have children by choice. “Childless” describes those who want children but don’t for any reason. These two are not in the same camp at all.

Hi. 

I don’t judge you for being childfree.

……..there’s no “but” to follow there. That’s it. 

Here’s the longer version if you want to read it. Maybe it’ll offer some validation. Maybe it’ll be something that you needed or wanted to hear. 

Not everyone feels the need or desire to have kids

When it comes to having kids, some people feel the desire or urge early-on (hi, hello, it’s me). Some people do later. Everyone’s “ideal” number of kids is different, and life often does not go how you expect. For some people, having kids isn’t a big deal. Some people never have the desire to have kids. 

One of my dear friends can’t have them. She suffers from a painful condition that requires her to have her uterus scraped out about twice a year. When she told me about the procedure that took her out of work for the day, I said “Ouch. That sounds painful. And no doctors will take the stupid thing out already?!”

She immediately thanked me for not saying “Oh, I’m so sorry that you can’t have kids” because she’s never wanted them anyway. Even if or when she gets married, she doesn’t want them. She’d been told by people “Oh, you’ll meet a boy one day that you’ll want to have babies with!” or “Trust me. You’ll want them when you’re older.” Such bold statements to make.

She gets to undergo these procedures because she’s “not old enough” for a hysterectomy. She’s in her early thirties. I get that that’s not exactly middle-aged, but it definitely sounds old enough to know that you don’t want to carry a pregnancy. People shouldn’t have to justify their family planning decisions to people with whom reproduction wouldn’t take place. Insane, I know. 

I’ve had a hard time understanding people who ask fully-grown adults why they don’t want kids. No one has ever asked me why I don’t own a house, which is also a very normal thing for adults to do. No one asks why I don’t have pets or why my vehicle is more than ten years old. These questions would be a lot less weird and invasive than asking someone why they don’t want kids, if they want more, etc. 

Sometimes it comes from a place of “Tell me why you don’t want them so that I can tell you all of the reasons why you should want them!” 

It screams “Please give me ammo to justify my own life choices! Defend your preferences against mine!” Like…why would you do that to someone?

I’ll sometimes jokingly ask my nine-year-old if she wants kids one day because she has so many siblings. Her answer ranges from vigorous head shaking to “I dunno….maybe. Maybe like three at most if I have them?”

I ask the question more to gauge if I’m making this shin-dig look miserable or how much alone time she probably needs. My response, regardless of what she says, is always “It’s your life. However many you want or don’t want is enough. It could change or not change as you get older.” I’m not going to sit there and extol the virtues of motherhood to her when she can clearly see with her eyeballs that her mom is a bit nuts. When she’s said “Being a mom sounds hard”, I respond with “It is. But I chose to have you all here, so I’m okay with it being hard.”

I love that we live in a time when people can choose not to have kids if they don’t want to. 

That hasn’t always been the case. If you didn’t want to risk getting pregnant, you had to abstain from having sex. You could always pull a Cleopatra and “wait till the cargo was full before accepting new passengers.” Oh, you also had to pray that they didn’t die of disease or tragedy before adulthood or age five. The topic of who should or shouldn’t have kids is pretty controversial.  I’ll be brazen and say that there is a pretty definitive group of people who shouldn’t have kids: people who don’t want to have kids. 

Huh…for some reason that didn’t feel crazy to type out. Let me clarify something; I’m definitely also not in the camp of “everyone who wants kids should have kids.” Some people make terrible decisions. Some can’t handle the responsibility that comes with having children. Some people are incredibly selfish. Some people would look at me and maybe throw me into one of those categories. I’m the one who ultimately gets to decide what I want and can handle. 

Just like everyone else. 

“Parents know what’s best”

“Survival of the fittest” never meant predisposing your kids to a happy, fulfilling life by being a superior parent. It literally just means “How many offspring did you live long enough to see produce their own offspring?” Full stop. The sad truth is that short of an accident, disease, abuse, or neglect that leads to death, kids keep growing older and one day become adults. That’s how time and human development works; not a reflection of our quality of parenting. 

Having a kid doesn’t mean that you suddenly understand child development, nutrition, emotional regulation, or how to make someone employable and liked as an adult. Are these prerequisite to be a good parent? Not necessarily. But should we kid ourselves into thinking that parenting makes us experts in all areas pertaining to children? Absolutely not. Parents have a tendency to adapt their idea of normal to wherever their child is at. This can be helpful sometimes in not losing their sanity if their kid is neurodivergent, is differently abled, or has different needs from other children. Having multiple kids can sometimes help by exposing you to a variety of personalities and needs. It still does not make the parent a “parenting expert”. No one is a parenting expert. 

Like many people, I’ve met parents whose best will not be enough to equip their kids to function as adults in society; the poor kids will need to figure that out for themselves.  I’ve seen some parents grossly misunderstand their child’s developmental needs and then brush off any commentary from childfree onlookers as “they just don’t get it.” There’s an expression that goes “You don’t have to be a chef to know that the soup tastes like crap.” They may not get what it’s like to be in your head, but they can still see that there’s a problem.

The “it takes a village” isn’t just referring to grandmothers (who often give outdated advice however well-intended). By the way, I’m not referring to my mother or mother-in-law, who are pretty baller at minding their own business. The expression is referring to having a community of people around who can say “Uh…need some help there? Cuz you look like you need some help/input.” Is it always correct or helpful? No. But laboring under the delusion that childfree people are not useful with kids is just…wrong.

There are the obvious contradictions to this assumption everywhere: teachers, nurses, therapists, daycare workers, counselors, etc. Yes, you can argue that there are certain things that childfree people “just don’t get.” This can be argued the other way around too; in the case of professions involving higher education, you didn’t go to school to learn what they learn, train, do internships and practicums under supervision, or abide by a professional level of conduct. You just had a baby.

Again, because someone is going to get defensive or polarize my statement; you do not have to be a professional in a child-related profession to be a good parent. We don’t need for society to be swimming in teachers, nurses, and child psychologists. Just have the humility to recognize that a fifteen-year-old can have a baby too.

Parents who want to foster or adopt kids actually have to do a lot of training and have every element of their personal life scrutinized. I once filled out a form as a reference for a friend who wanted to foster a child. The questions on the form were extremely personal and asked me what I thought of her mental health, etc. They were nothing compared to the interviews that she and her husband had to undergo  to determine if they were fit to foster. Their home had to be up to a certain standard. They have to take classes. Yes, there are some foster parents who are exploitative and terrible; most people are just normal people who want to take care of someone. Do we tell adoptive parents that “they just don’t get it” because they’re not raising who came from their own bodies? No…at least you really, really shouldn’t be doing that. As someone with an adopted sibling, I can personally attest to how bogus that statement is. 

The world needs good aunts and uncles

Having a big extended family can be really fun because we’re all at different stages in life and bring different strengths (and weirdness) to gatherings. I love my childless and childfree siblings and sibling-in-laws. They play with the kids, help dish up food, chat with them, and are generally pretty darned helpful. Also they’re just cool people…I love handing my babies to one of my sisters, who is terrific at getting little kids to fall asleep on her. I love when my brother-in-law tells my kids to quit being crazy, or they’re going to be booted outside. My oldest daughter will message her aunts, and I’m so glad that she has other people who care about her because kids cannot have too many people who care about them. 

While they may be tired from their own jobs, hobbies, and lives, they somehow find energy to spare hugs and love for my kids. They’re usually not on-call 24/7 doing parenting-related tasks already. Although, I’ve seen some of them even take care of nieces and nephews with greater interest than the child’s parents do. Some of them would make for better parents than many parents, but they don’t want their own. Selfishly, I think it’s a great deal. We get to enjoy them, and they get to enjoy being aunts and uncles.

Adding a caveat here. I also love when aunts and uncles say “no” to the kids’ requests for attention. My brother, Dan, was a pro at swatting kids away as he attempted to pass out on my parents couch after a big meal. One of my middle kids will try climbing on my sisters to get their attention, and I love when they say “Nope. You’re in my personal space. Scram!” I obviously tell her not to do it too, but the extra reinforcement helps. The value of more people helping to reinforce good behavior in kids can’t be overstated.

“Childfree people are selfish”

Bruh, I haven’t paid federal income tax in like six years. Tax evasion? No, I just have that many dependents. I’ll take that “selfish” trophy now and put it on my shelf, thankyouverymuch. But in all seriousness…I do not expect for other people to accommodate or validate my lifestyle by living in kind against their wishes. Most adults are gainfully employed, pay their bills, and add some form of value to society. 

People used to have lots of kids because sex makes babies and birth control was not available. Also the whole kids not being domestic parasites and actually having responsibility for food production and keeping the family alive that came about in agrarian societies. They also died in much greater numbers than they do today. Children are now a far greater monetary expense to their parents than they’ll probably ever repay to their parents. 

Yes, my kids will be funding people’s retirements one day, but isn’t caring for an aged population part of what we do as a civilized society whether or not they’ve “earned it” by contributing kids to the system? Do you know how sticky that would get if we only cared for the elderly who had children? For the record, I’m personally not expecting for my children to care for me one day. I don’t want to be a burden on them, however much I may have personally sacrificed in raising them. It wouldn’t sit well with me to impose on them in my later years. Many parents may have differing expectations, but that’s mine. 

Millennials and Gen Xers are currently shouldering the burden of funding social security for the Baby Boomers. It’s still not enough for many of them to get by. Instead of blaming the childfree or parents, can we appreciate that there is a massive inequality in resources for which average people are not to blame?

I digress as that could be an entire blog post.

You know what’s selfish? Blaming other people for not owning up to what you want. Expecting validation from other people by expecting that they hold the same values that you hold. If someone doesn’t want children, you are under no obligation to persuade or convince them to want them. Doing so will likely produce the opposite effect. 

“But kids/babies are so great!” 

BRUH.  Parents will do this song and dance about how hard having kids is then immediately try to backpedal when someone says “You know? You’re right. That does sound hard. Pass.” 

“But it’s totally worth it!”

Really? Worth it if they achieve a certain status one day? Worth it if they still talk to you as adults or care for you in your old age? Worth it if they make you look good to other parents? Or….worth it because you personally chose sacrifice for their well-being? Worth it because you feel that moment of watching your nine-year-old jump on her grandma’s trampoline brought you more private, quiet joy than all of the moments of holding her as a fussy, teething baby?

Wouldn’t you agree that’s a pretty personal moment and measure of fulfillment? 

Does that mean that you shouldn’t share how hard parenting is? Dude, you can’t hide the struggle of parenting from other people because kids have their own brains and agendas. Other people get to decide what and where they want to derive fulfillment in their lives. And like I mentioned earlier, some people never want kids. 

“What if you regret it when you’re older?” 

Oh no…what if they do? Thank goodness they’ll have you there to say “I told you so!” Because that’s what you do when you care about someone. They’ll need to live with the decision that they made either way. 

“What about your parents? I’m sure they’d love to have grandbabies!”

Children are not obligated to sacrifice their lives or values for the values of their parents. Pretty bold, probably Westernized statement there, huh? I dare someone to publicly state “My kids exist to make me happy one day.” Now, would-be grandparents are allowed to have their feelings. Should they express all of these feelings to their children who don’t want children? Well, it just depends on the kind of relationship that they want to have with them. 

Finally…Yes, I think your dogs/cats are adorable

Sometimes when childfree folks complain about house-training a puppy, they’ll backtrack with “But I bet it’s nothing compared to having kids.”

First of all, I love seeing pictures of your doggos and cats. One of my sisters can attest that I message her about twice a week demanding pictures of my furry nephews. I love them.

Emmett’s Christmas tie. I cannot…<3<3

And Finley’s ❤

I don’t look at them and think “Too bad it’s not a baby/toddler!” It’s so much easier to not offend a pet-owner than a parent when reacting to a photo because it’s not their flesh-and-blood or person who they chose to raise. Humans come into this world looking kinda funky to everyone but their parents and maybe grandparents. Give ‘em a few months to get chubby, and it might improve their appearance to a level that invites you to hold them for a few minutes…or at least “aww” from no less than six feet away.  Maybe this is how you feel too; unless I have a special connection to a kid’s parents, they nearly all look the same to me. 

Second of all, you know what’s convenient about raising people? When you’re toilet-training a toddler, there are people-oriented facilities everywhere. I can throw a diaper on them if I’m going out in public, on a car ride, or grocery shopping. There is also a very handy contraption in my house called a “toilet” that rids me of all of their troubles. Usually. Unless they decide to use an entire roll of toilet paper…but cats will sit there and spin that thing like a slot machine too. 

I don’t have to open the backdoor for them to go outside. I don’t have to pick up dog poop in my backyard in the cold. I don’t worry about leaving them at home alone and having them peeing on my furniture because, well, I’d get arrested for leaving them at home unattended at that age. But also, they’re allowed to come with me everywhere that doesn’t exclude those under 21. 

There are people who treat their pets as though they were actual children or babies. The vast majority of pet owners don’t though, so I’m not even going to generalize this behavior. You don’t have a child of your own, but you love and care for something else. Why would I judge you for that? 

Yes, some people make for terrible pet owners. Some pet owners are irresponsible and don’t properly train or discipline their pets. The difference is that if your dog turns out to be aggressive and violent, they can be put down without years of litigation, jail-time, and waiting for lethal injection (if applicable to your state). Or them terrorizing society for decades after being on parole. They won’t rack up DUIs or impregnate another human whose life carries weighty consequences and responsibilities.

Your cat won’t need to find gainful employment one day. Your dog won’t need to start their formal education or procure a driver’s license. They’ll probably be spayed or neutered (without you even needing their consent). If you’re a responsible pet-owner, you probably stress about your dogs jumping up on guests, barking when they shouldn’t, and pooping on people’s lawns.

There seems to be a trend here. You want to love something without the immense weight that should accompany raising a human being? That same weight that parents talk about shouldering with kids, and you’re choosing to care for and love something that doesn’t require that?

Huh. It’s almost like that’s the point.

No, I don’t judge you. I’m glad that you exist. You help to balance us parents out.

My parenting method? Like a monkey

Disclaimer: I don’t have a degree in this field. I took one class in biological anthropology this past semester. Loved it. Purpose of this post is to relay what I do that works for me fabulously. And too many people overthink raising a baby mammal.

If you’ve ever been around me and Haven you know that she will occasionally climb up on my lap and nurse. I don’t even break my sentence most of the time. She just there, pulls my shirt aside, and goes to town. Why? Because I’m a mammal. And this whole thing with “discreetly” breastfeeding children is seriously less than two hundred years old.  Homo sapiens have been around for approximately 27,000 years. So, for 0.7% of humanity (not including the lactating functionality of animals for the last 200 MILLION years), mammary glands have been recognized as useful tools and not offensive sex toys.

Or at least that’s my cool “sciencey” justification behind it. Truthfully, I’m just lazy. I got sick of dealing with bottles and trying to pull a cover over a baby when it was 80 degrees outside and other modern “convenient” rubbish. Yeah. Maybe it was convenient for other people. But I don’t exist to make other people feel comfortable. And my baby didn’t give two rips about what was normal and socially acceptable in public in the United States (which is a country that comparatively sucks in terms of breastfeeding support). She’s a mammal. She wants to nurse. I’ve got breasts ready to go. Solution? I wear shirts and dresses with stretchy necks and let my baby monkey help herself whenever she wants wherever she wants. She’ll be seventeen months old in a few weeks. I’ll probably end up nursing both of my kids at the same time.

Haven has slept with me since the day she was born. Why? Because when humans were still living in caves and in the jungle, a screaming infant would have alerted every predator within two miles to their whereabouts. Look at baby monkeys. Where do they usually sleep? With their moms. And their moms are not losing their bananas over what the informed, educated decision is for their children. They just freaking do it. 

Okay, fine. I didn’t go Google all that junk the day that she was born to decide what to do with her. I had just given birth. Oxytocin was raging through my veins. I wanted to be near my baby. She just spent the last nine months snuggled in my cozy womb. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone in the dark, strange world until she cried herself to sleep. So, I held her next to me and slept. My mammalian body recognized that our nine-month investment was inches away. Damon’s body responded the same way. We both slept fine. My personal philosophy is that if you wait until your baby cries before responding, then you’ve waited too long. It’s training your baby to cry. She would stir to nurse, and I was right there. No screaming in the dead of night required. If she needs a nap (and we’re not going on a car ride), I nurse her until she falls asleep, then gently ease her off if I need to go do something else. But lots of the time, I’ll just let my baby monkey sleep on my chest. Damon will hold and bounce her until she falls asleep sometimes. She’s never fallen asleep alone in her life. And for every other baby mammal in existence…that’s really normal.

When Haven was still small enough, I carried her in a sling across my. Why? When baby monkeys are about six months, they ride on their mother’s backs. Before that, they cling to their mom’s chest constantly for comfort and warmth.

Sigh…fine. I didn’t Google all of that either before deciding what to do with my kid. Man, I suck at this whole “informed” parenting thing. I just wanted my baby to be close to me. And hauling a stroller around was such a pain. Solution: we have a backpack diaper bag and carry Haven. When my son is born, he’ll go in a sling across my chest. They also make it really easy for the baby to nurse without having to undo their stroller, grab the cover, find a place to sit, blah blah blah blah BLAH!

Speaking of crying. Crying means that your baby is in pain or needs something. If they could talking using words, they would. I’m not talking about the whiney tantrum-y cries that they do when you won’t share your chocolate. I walk away until she chills out with those ones. I hate hearing her cry, just like anyone else hates to hear it. We are programmed to hate the sound of crying. If she cries, I hold her. I don’t waste my time weighing the pros and cons of possibly causing my child to become dependent on me for comfort (like, heaven forbid she wants her mom, right?) I pick her up and snuggle her.

Look, being a modern-day human just means that we have the luxury of of evolution up until now WITHOUT having to worry about fighting off lions. It means that we have toilets, microwaves, and vaccines and all sorts of other snazzy stuff that our primate ancestors didn’t have. But I can’t help but feel just a tad bit envious while reading the National Geographic. Lovely women with their babies always on their hips, breasts out. And nobody gives a flying fluff. They haven’t forgotten how to “monkey”. So..I guess that my parenting style is “lazy”. I’m letting nature do the guesswork for me.

But hey, don’t let me tell you what to do with your little mammal. You came from the same line of evolution that I did. You can figure it out.