Unbred Mother

A second monologue for Womenscene, an evening of original works about women (Pittsburgh, May 2008):

A woman in her mid-30s addresses the audience.

I never wanted children. I don't even like children. I never know what I'm supposed to do with them. How to talk to them. How to play with them. And they can smell fear, you know. Like dogs these babies, toddlers, preteens, whatever. They know when you are uncomfortable and it just makes them want to get the hell out of there, too. Don't ask me to baby-sit unless you want your kid to cry for 3 hours. Kids just don't like me. But I'm fine with that.

I never wanted children. A lot of my ex-boyfriends were good with kids, but, then again, most of my ex-boyfriends were essentially just big kids so it came easy to them. They could play with each others' toys. Some guys told me I was fighting my instincts or that it would kick in later. Nope. I've never felt the pressures of a ticking clock other than the one that keeps me at work too long and doesn't let me sleep in enough.

My girlfriends tend to have similar theories as the guys or else they think I'm worried about losing my figure or that I'm afraid of the pain. Sure I don't want to lose my figure. It's far from perfect as it is, so no, I would not like to gain additional weight or get stretch marks. Who would? And pain? Of course I'm afraid of pain. Pain is unpleasant. That's what pain is. But I know pain is temporary. And I think of myself as a tough cookie. It's not like I don't know a little something about pain. No. If I wanted to have a baby, I wouldn't let the pain stop me. But I never wanted children. Period.

Some people say I'm selfish. I tell them that they're selfish for bringing children into this fucked up world just to fulfill their own sick desire to breed! Actually, my world view is nowhere near as pessimistic as that--even now--but it tends to make people shut up...or start recycling shopping bags in a futile effort to save the world for their offspring.

I never wanted children. Hell, I don't even like children. So, why, when the doctors tell me that after this surgery...after this damn cancer...that I won't ever be able to have any...Why...why do I feel so empty?