A Tale Of A Woman Who Does Not Want Kids, In 4 Parts

A woman wearing a black crop top and underwear with closed eyes in front of a curtain
Yoann Boyer / Unsplash

1. the lady at the grocery store tells me that my hair is beautiful. that she bets I make people jealous and men swoon. that she bets my children will inherit the lovely hair and what lucky kids they will be.

‘but lady,’ I whisper with my eyes

I don’t want kids.

2. the doctor tells me for the fifth time that it will be very hard for me to conceive. I tell him that no, I don’t need counseling. I really wasn’t planning on having kids.

he tells me that I will re-think that when the right man comes into my life and hands me a pamphlet on IVF treatments.

‘but doctor,’ my ovaries scream

we don’t want kids either.

3. a lady at a party drunkenly tells me about her children. they’re terrors, a nightmare, she giggles. “but I love them,” she quickly adds. she glances at me, up and down. that bitch elevator looks me.

4. her lips curl into what anyone else would call a smile.                but what I call a death sentence on the lips.

“when do you think you will start having kids?”

and I smile at my Canadian Club, look at her and say “never”

she tells me that my ovaries were made to make something. she tells me that my mother didn’t have me for nothing. that I better carry on my legacy. she tells me that I will bare my husband’s fruits. a labor of love. that I will love them because they’re my children.

this time, her lips are the gavel, her words the judge and suddenly I am sitting in the stand, with my hand over my heart. the jury no longer on my side. my lawyer packing her things.  and now I am left pleading with a stranger that I want to keep my eggs unfertilized and my stomach empty. but it isn’t enough. the case has been made.

“What do you mean, no?” she demands.

“You.. are a woman, after all.” TC mark

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