I recently came to learn this term – childless by choice – which apparently isn’t as straightforward as it sounds. There’s debate over the terminology as there are the childless not-by-choice (due to medical/reproductive issues) and the childless by circumstance (still waiting for the right partner or time or whateva). Then there are those who are the “childfree,” which is a way of saying that they are free of those pesky kids, as opposed to lacking in them. It’s the most assertive of the labels.
I’ll go ahead and go with label number one, childless by choice. Mitchell and I have been married for about 8 months now, and for some people, this means that I should be expecting a child in T minus 30 days or so. But no, that bump in my belly is due to one too many visits to the bia hoi and my distaste for gyms, not from housing a mini Sarmitch (Sarah + Mitchell = Sarmitch).
Sarmitch
I’ve been surprised at the level of child-related interrogations we’ve received since the wedding date, especially since I’ve been vocal about my no-child plans since I was…well, a child. I’m at the point of tattooing “No vacancy” on my tummy. Or would “No children allowed” be better? “Must be this tall to reside?”
First there’s family. I understand why my parents might care. My dad is damned proud of our genes and thinks that by not having a child, I’m denying the world of another Ben Franklin or Dorothy Kenyon. That doesn’t make sense to me given that I’m nothing close to that level of greatness, but maybe my kids would be? What if they were geniuses, but evil geniuses? Unlike my dad, though, my mom is on my side. She thinks kids are nice and all if you want them, but they’re generally overrated. (Gee…thanks ma). My sister used to sympathize, but now she thinks it’d be totally awesome to be an aunt (well, it is), and so her argument has become, “Just have one!” To which I respond, “It’s not like buying a cat, Jeannette. Even if it was, I can barely take care of my cat.” She’s the proud mama of three gorgeous kiddos, so I guess after having three kids, having only one would seem like a piece of cake. Given the biological ties and benefits my family would get, I kind of understand why they’d want me to get preggers. I don’t know why anyone else would care, though. More resources for you and yours is what I say.
My nieces & nephew. How could I not want one of these cuties?
I’m not entirely sure if I should be insulted or amused by people who don’t seem to believe me when I say I don’t want children, which seems to be most people. They like to argue that I’ll change my mind, and say things like “Of course you don’t want one NOW, but you’ll see,” as they nod their heads knowingly. And I do realize that I’m perfectly capable of changing my mind. There are more than a few things about my life now that would’ve surprised or confused past-Sarah. Like living in Vietnam – the idea of that never crossed 21 year-old Sarah’s mind. There were also times when I thought I’d never get married, and then Mitchell came along and made me a hypocrite. So, I get it, people change. Still, deciding whether or not to have a child has got to be the biggest decision of one’s life. People seem so often to casually and unquestioningly jump into it, and I feel like I at least deserve a little credit for pausing to think about it first. And the more I think about it, the less I want one. As far as that hormonal biological clock argument, my hormones are rarely the wisest advisors and usually lead me down the opposite path I should be taking, so fuck ‘em.
A lot of people simply ask “why?” when I state my position. I think many childless people interpret this simple question as a negative judgment. How often, after all, are parents asked, “So, why’d you have kids, anyway?” I imagine most parents would be slightly bewildered and repulsed by the question. The question “why?” used to annoy me, but now I think it’s pretty innocent. It’s natural to ask people why they’re choosing to do something that’s not “normal.” And I try not to be snobby in my response by saying something like: Well, I care about the environment and overpopulation, unlike you. Actually, neither of those are my primary reasons anyway. Like most people’s reasons for becoming parents, mine are more on the self-serving side.
I think that some parents read my decision to not have kids as a judgment on them for reproducing. Kind of like in the past when I would mention that I was vegan, some people would immediately respond in a confrontational tone with, “Well, I LOVE meat, I’d rather slit my wrists than give up bacon.” Umm…ok. Awesome for you I guess. Me just saying, “I’m a vegan,” somehow translated into, “You’re an insensitive prick for eating animals.” As far as people with kiddos, kudos to you. I love kids, and if people stopped having them, that would… like totally suck. One of my best friends, Kelly, is having a baby girl soon and I can’t wait to hang out with her, and I know Kelly and her man are going to be great parents.
The reactions I get in Vietnam are different from those I get back home. People are usually more curious than judgmental; often they seem to be embarrassed by what I’m saying, which I don’t understand. Or they think it’s simply a translation issue. Vietnam is more conservative than the US in many ways, especially the crowds I hang around with in the US, who tend to have opposite-than-usual reactions (My God, you got a good-paying office job with health insurance and benefits? Are you miserable? -OR- You got married? Ew.) Most Vietnamese people I’ve met don’t question the life path of: fall in love, get married, have 2 kids, try to make more money so those kids can have a good life, become a grandparent, the end. Granted, a large majority of Americans feel the same way, and that’s definitely a good blueprint for life as far as I can tell. It’s just that most folks in the US aren’t strangers to people who feel differently. Internet searches show that there’s even a “Childless by Choice Movement” afoot.
In one of my Vietnamese lessons, my friend/teacher tested me to see if I could respond to the question, “Do you have any children?” My response to this question was “không có” or “I don’t have any.” She laughed and we had the following conversation:
T: No! Silly Sarah. The proper response is, ‘not yet.’ Your response didn’t make any sense.
S: Oh, but ‘not yet’ isn’t correct because I never want to have children.
T: Ha ha! You’re funny. But seriously, you should say, ‘not yet.’ People are going to think you’re stupid.
S: But…ok, whatever you say.
I’ve also had elementary conversations in Vietnamese with various tea ladies and taxi drivers, and the child question inevitably comes up. I don’t have the language skills to fully communicate my no-child reasoning, so I ended up saying that they’re very expensive and “very tired.” (I don’t know how to say that they would be exhausting.) They usually think I’m quite the comedian. Then I tell them that I’m three years older than my husband, who I appropriately refer to as “em” rather than “anh” (younger vs. older man) and that confirms that I am actually the funniest – or dumbest – girl ever. (Even if younger, it’s customary to call your husband Anh because it properly shows that he’s superior to you or the boss or something. So, yeah, I stubbornly stick with em, although I usually just call him Mitchell.)
Should you have a kid when you still are a big kid?
That’s not to say that there aren’t Vietnamese people who see where I’m coming from. More and more young people are questioning things and trying out new ways of life that don’t necessarily jive with their parents’ ideas. The generational gap can be tough and emotionally trying, but still, these young adults are finding their own way.
I’ve found that the impression among some Vietnamese people is that we foreigners have more personal freedom. I was talking to a guy at a bar late at night when I mentioned my husband. That conversation:
Dude: “Where is he?”
S: At home, asleep.
Dude: Really!! Ha ha! And you are out? You foreigners have so much freedom!
S: Um, I guess.
Dude: Do you drive a motorbike?
S: Yes.
Dude: Do you have a license.
S: Of course not. It’s surprising I could even figure out how to rent a motorbike.
Dude: Oh my God, the freedom!!! You can do whatever you want.
S: Kind of? I mean, that’s right. I do what I want!! Uh oh, it’s the cops, run!!
The same kinds of conversations happen when I say I’m a bad cook or something like that. I think a lot of people end up feeling really sorry for Mitchell actually. I’m depriving the poor dear of company on some Friday nights, home-cooked food, and a fulfilling life with children, not to mention grandchildren. He’s a good sport about it, though.
If you want to read more about being childless by choice, there are these articles (warning: if you have children or are preggers, probably best to skip it – they leans towards the ‘being childless rules’ point of view)
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