I have found myself doing something seemingly inexplicable recently. It started a few months ago, and was a bit of a preoccupation throughout this Pesach season. I have been reading about and exploring the world of the self-identified “child-free.” The term grates on my ears because it implies that children are a burden and deciding not to have them is a relief. And I do not relate to that outlook, or to making the voluntary and intentional decision to not have children due to a lack of interest, or from anxiety about the state of the world, or because of past traumas one is unwilling to potentially subject a child to, which are some of the reasons people decide not to have children. But I have still been exploring the literature (for lack of a better word) of this community.
This would seem inexplicable for someone who has been walking around with phantom children. For someone who has spent $25,000+ freezing her eggs. I tried to tease it out over Pesach and I reached a realization.
A part of me is tired of failing at starting a family. A part of me wants to transmute this unchosen and unfair circumstance into a form of empowerment. A part of me wants this to be a choice. A superior choice.
I don’t think I need to tell you how I really feel about wanting children. How I feel about my baby niece and nephew who were here over YT. The countless hours I have spent poring over baby clothes online and in stores. The piles of parenting books. The jars of folate. So much of the personal development work I have done over the years has been motivated by the desire to be a better mother. I read picture books and write down my favorites. I travel with my children in mind. My friends know that I think about my children as if they are out there, waiting for me in another dimension.
Yet I need to feel that I can still have a hopeful future without them. I think that’s what my brain is doing. It’s trying to make this easier for me.
A relevant spinoff here would be a post about my relationship with tefillah. In short, I struggle with it. I struggle to keep asking for something and not getting it. And the more, perhaps, evolved approaches to tefillah…like telling Hashem how much pain I am in, and using tefillah as an opportunity to connect to Hashem, to let it change me…I am feeling fatigued with tefillah overall. That is obviously closely related to the subject of this post.
Feelings change, and I am sure I will feel better and think differently about all this at some point. But I want to be honest about the malaise I find myself in.
As always, thank you so much for being here — it helps to be a part of a community.
You take care of yourself, now. And have a comforting day.
