While having dinner the day before we left Mumbai, my husband’s grandmother expressed her keenness to visit us in Wellington, but she had a condition, “I’ll come once you give me my great grandson,” she said. I continued to eat because besides the food being tempting, after a few years, you grow thick skin. Then I heard my husband telling her not to come if that’s her condition. Well, you could tell at that moment that I was so proud of my decision to marry him five years ago. Earlier this year, while we were in the middle of our move from Mumbai to Wellington, suddenly everyone around us could only think of us ‘starting a family.’ My husband, an Army officer, and I got married in 2019 and since then, he never got a ‘family posting’ where I could accompany him. We were going to be staying together for the first time in five years and even I could only think about having a good time, so I don’t blame them!
I have always found it triggering when someone tries to guide a couple on the timeline of ‘planning’ their family. For the record, I don’t hate kids, and I am child-free by choice, but I have friends and cousins who have been trying to get pregnant but medical, financial, and other personal issues have been in their way. I have witnessed their faces getting pale as soon as someone brings up that topic. However, in an Indian society, family, elders, and relatives decide the graph of your life while enjoying chaat at your wedding when all you can think of are constructive ways to spend the money you got as blessings at the wedding functions.
I have been able to successfully dodge the question of having a baby for the first few years of my marriage as my husband was posted on field while I focussed on building my career in Mumbai. Did it sit well with our families and relatives? No. I didn’t enjoy it either, why lie? While for me, it’s hard watching Christmas movies alone with just wine and chocolate, others could only think of my biological clock ticking faster than their ability to jump to conclusions. As a result, I used to see hopeful faces every time my husband came back home for his annual leave. And I believe it still hasn’t changed; I can visualise their disappointed faces every time I post my yoga videos on social media. Does it affect me? It would be a lie if I said no but my husband is proud of me for nailing all advanced asanas. As corny as it may sound but believe me, on days when you feel overwhelmed, even the smallest gesture makes a difference.
I have dedicatedly worked for the last one decade to build a career for myself, constantly juggling between managing my old parents, dealing with the untimely loss of my elder sister, and taking care of my husband’s family while he’s been away. And so, I believe I am more than a (selfish) woman who doesn’t want to have a child for the sake of the two families. It hasn’t been an easy journey for us. Along the way, we realised our society is not yet comfortable with the idea of a couple deciding for themselves, especially if it’s about keeping the family as a unit of two people and not including a child in it. It’s like snatching away a long-term retirement plan from the parents and grandparents. The number of times my grandmother has ensured that she will take care of my child while clutching hard to her walking stick and fixing her hearing aids is not even funny.
I love children, you’ll find me bonding with them at parties, I happily babysit babies for friends and I’m a doting aunt to my four-year-old nephew. I have fed kids by running after them, telling them stories and making funny faces, and had sleepless nights while taking care of my newborn nephew. I know how to make formula milk, change diapers, burp them and handle toddler tantrums. I still don’t want to have one of my own. For a 30-something woman, this grey zone is one of the trickiest spots to be in. What if you regret it later? Don’t you think you’re depriving your partner of fatherhood? How selfish that you don’t want to experience the most wonderful feeling of motherhood? I have been judged, coaxed, and questioned for not wanting to reproduce. When someone asks me about the ‘good news’, I rhetorically ask, ‘I wish you could experience what being married to Olive Green is like?’ I always had my reason not to embrace motherhood but what got added to the long list is living in uncertainty as the wife of an Army officer. Imagine having to shoulder every ounce of responsibility alone without knowing when you’ll get to see or speak to your husband again. In that moment, you find solace in being alone and not thinking about another life dependent on you.
As a couple, we were not on the same page from the beginning. While I was sure about my decision, he still believed that things would change after a few years. I am not ready to take that responsibility, and I want to spend my money on traveling rather than taking care of a child for a lifetime. I have my reasons. While it took time for my partner to understand that my reasons are not frivolous, it hasn’t been easy, especially when everyone around us is planning to or has already entered parenthood.
My friends often ask me, ‘how did he change his decision?’ I laugh it off because I still am unsure if he is completely onboard with my decision. I often think if I’m too scared to ask him what’s on his mind but along the way, we both have realised that bringing up a child is a lot more than going through nine months of pregnancy and sleepless nights. And that we are not ready for it, although we never confess it in those many words. In all this, one of the most treasured things I have found in these five years is the ease we both have built to communicate, at times without explanation. If you are planning to lead a child-free life, let me tell you that it’s not going to be easy, especially if you’re a woman driving the decision. You’re continuously questioned for deciding to not give up your singlehood as a couple.
Do I still go through my decision every other day trying to reason it out to myself? Yes, it’s never black or white. What if I regret my decision? What if I want to have a child after a few years but that time has passed? In those weak moments, I find myself leaning on my husband who’s willing to take a stand for me. And while we still go through a few mild discussions between both of us, in the last five years, he’s made sure that every bit of explanation to his parents and extended family is his responsibility.
The crux is that the decision to lead a child-free life is far bigger than planning to have one. There’s no blueprint to go by, fewer experiences to learn from, and more judgement to live with. It might distance you from a few close friends and anger the family, but the key is to have your partner by your side, an ally to your decision. However, it also solidifies your trust in your partner and brings you closer to the people who share the opinion. In the last few years, while I often chat with my friends who are busy parenting their toddlers, I have begun to enjoy engaging with couples who don’t want to have kids. I might sound confident about my decision; the truth is that you often find yourself struggling with the thought that what if you end up being alone? You need your support system and while society tries to blame you, having a core group that shares the same thoughts and opinions helps.
As I jokingly tag my husband as my legally appointed spokesperson, the truth is that it’s not smooth-sailing and it’s never going to be but then who can refute the fact that a unit of two is not a complete family?
