To all the child-free people I’ve judged before: I was wrong and I’m sorry.
To be clear, I’m not talking about people who want children and can’t have them. That’s heartbreaking.
I’m talking about adults who choose not to have children, whether that’s because they’d prefer to travel or advance their careers or not contribute to the overpopulation of the planet or because they just plain don’t want the lifetime commitment, expense and mental toll involved with being a parent.
It’s terrible to admit, but I wrongly judged these adults for many years.
As a newlywed 24-year-old, I was cheerfully popping prenatal vitamins and positively could not wait until I got pregnant. My earliest blog posts paint the picture of a young woman utterly obsessed with babies, who had her first at 26 and her second at 28.
Of course, I’ve griped and joked and moaned about the challenges of being a parent over the years — even right here in this column — but motherhood is something I always wanted and I love my two little goofs more than I ever thought possible.
In my 20s, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever choose not to have children. I’m guilty of having asked newlyweds when they’re going to start trying and attempting to cajole people into having even just one.
Even worse, I didn’t take people seriously when they said they weren’t having kids. I’d continue to lament that so-and-so would make an amazing parent, clucking that it was such a shame and deciding they’d likely change their mind.