Milk Drunk: What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

Introduction

Have you ever doubted or constantly defended yourself to others because the decisions you made were different from theirs?

Of course you have!

Society triggers conformity, and who doesn’t want to belong, right? Wrong.

I definitely have experience from the outsiders’ perspective, and it all stems from my decision to not have children. From defending myself to friends, acquaintances, coworkers, and even strangers who don’t agree with my decision, to getting berated for being a horrible person because my sole purpose as a woman is to make babies, I have heard it all and have always remained content in my decision, which is why I chose to write this book.

Now, before you decide if you want to board the Hot Mess Express, let me explain what this book is not about.

1.There will be no lectures, debates, or lengthy details expressing my opinion about whether someone should have a child. If you are looking for someone or something to provide guidance during your internal child limbo debate, then I suggest you put this book down and look within your heart.

2.This book is not an outlet for bashing parents or children. I’m simply sharing my personal experiences with people and their reactions to my non-baby mama journey.

3.Lastly, while some of the experiences I discuss involve sensitive topics, I am in no way attacking these beliefs, situations, or ways of life.

OK, now that we got that business out of the way, let’s chitchat about what you will read in this adventure.

This book details my memorable encounters and conversations involving my decision not to have children. Some people truly commend the courage, self-awareness, and determination an uncommon choice like this takes, while others believe I have let God, my family, my femininity, and even the world down. Imagine being told you’ve let down the whole world? Talk about some serious stress! Especially when you didn’t realize the whole world was looking at you.

Since the world is looking, and there is seemingly a growing population of child-free people, my book on what to expect when you are not expecting provides reasons to communicate this taboo and socially unaccustomed story.

Before we get too far ahead and the haters come out and say I am anti-baby and anti-motherhood, let me emphasize that it is the farthest thing from the truth. I do love children, and I completely understand that parents are strong and amazing superheroes. With that being said, I am simply taking this opportunity to discuss my child-free journey, highlighting all the questions, conversations, and even hatorade that has flowed in my direction. Knowing there are many childless people like me out there, I hope my voice provides an outlet and comfort for this community while providing others ah-ha moments and a view to this particular life perspective.

With all that out of the way, let me formally introduce myself.

I am a fierce, forty-something, independent woman working as a senior manager of product development in a substantial career. I have a loving husband named Jim, who is my best friend, a great family, and a fulfilling life.

What I don’t have is a child. By choice.

I grew up in New Jersey, circa 1979. In all actuality, I should be used to judgments, being from the Garden State, which has a reputation as the armpit of America; however, it’s a state that offers more than oil refineries and drunken, classless out-of-towners (sorry, Snooki). Instead, it is a state that offers city life, diversity, and picturesque atmospheres. On any given day, one can go apple picking, swim at some incredible shores, hop on a train and be in New York City in less than twenty minutes, or snowboard at multiple ski locations.

Growing up in this environment offered me authentic growth, strong family values, unconditional love, and amazing traditions that proved to be the necessary ingredients for my recipe of life. From an early age, family bonds were the key driver for my motivation and morals. Even though not one sibling, cousin, aunt, or uncle from my large, diverse family has the same personality, we all seem to speak the same language. My family’s love, loyalty, and values allow me to feel comfortable exploring everything life has to offer, which includes a life without a child. They welcome my savage personality, but more importantly, they support my desire to try new opportunities.

With an adventurous and curious nature, I love to travel and explore different cultures. When I’m not exploring, you can find me excitedly inventing dessert recipes, enthusiastically airplane spotting, embracing thrill-seeking activities, visiting sporting arenas, or growing my science knowledge. Even at an early age, these passions were constant ambitions in my life to try something new, which had a significant influence on my decision not to have children.

I was sixteen years old when I realized I did not want to have children. I know some people may think that’s a young age for a life-changing realization, but I tapped deep inside to understand myself and what made me happy. Was having a child a lifetime opportunity that I could not let pass by? Or would it prevent me from experiencing a life I felt was passing me by?

From the very beginning, I knew child-rearing came with constant variables that could prevent new opportunities I was or would be willing to take.

And no, I didn’t have all those answers at sixteen, but I knew I had the right to choose for myself. A life with a child was not the choice for me. I wasn’t destined to be a mom. No biological clock ticked, and there was no fear my life would not be fulfilled. Instead, I chose to focus on what was important to me and which destination I’d go to next.

So grab your tickets, because the Hot Mess Express is pulling out of the station.

Chapter 1

Purpose

What is the purpose of your life if you aren’t a mother?

Let’s play a game.

Consider specific words people use to describe you. As you mentally scroll through the list, think about the most common statements—those frequently used remarks that portray your personality in one neatly tied bow. Are the majority of the descriptions correct, or do you feel the world views you from the surface?

My own library of perceptions ranges from independent and considerate to the blatantly obvious child-free, which is a decision I’ve been explaining almost my whole life.

So, the question, What’s your purpose in life if you’re not going to have a baby? is one that follows me around like a lost puppy.

Sigh.

Throughout history, a woman’s economic value has focused on her capacity to bear children, despite the many successful and life-changing women in the world. Take for example Judith Heumann, a long-time disability rights advocate who protested for the passage of the Rehabilitation Act, advised Presidents Clinton and Obama, and pushed for the globalization of disability rights. Or Katherine Johnson, the mathematical genius whose computations successfully launched astronaut John Glenn into orbit in 1962 and sent Apollo 11 to the moon.¹

What gives, people?

From ancient times, it has been customary to define a woman as limited and contingent compared to a man. Typical definitions from societal pressures confine a woman to positions of dependency with the value focused on their capacity for pregnancy.² Even in today’s advanced age, culture, economy, family upbringing, and geography, these still play a pivotal role.

The recession evident in today’s economy suggests people are choosing to have fewer children.³ Inconsistent income, currency value, and cost of living play a much larger role with life decisions. For example, when a twelve pack of my favorite soda costs three dollars more, the contemplation of worth sets in, and an internal debate occurs in aisle nine.

All that over Diet Mountain Dew.

Deciding to purchase this delicious, carbonated treat is not a major life decision, just one that took consideration based on the economy. If I took ten minutes in Stop and Shop to determine my future beverage of choice, imagine the effort and thought needed for something more substantial . . . like a baby?

The US Census indicates a steady decline in births from 2019, pre-pandemic, to December 2021, current pandemic, with an average decline of 4.06 percent in 2020 alone.⁴ Living within a worldwide pandemic, employment instability, and the inner drive for self-discovery, people are choosing to focus on their personal cycle versus their fertility cycle.

Early on, discussing my child-free decisions with new acquaintances had me drowning in confused thoughts, emotions, and guilt. Despite my confidence, the consistent barrage of questions, concerns, and even verbal abuse became overwhelming—almost to the point where I considered altering my view.

Almost.

Conversations about my decision were not going away, so I had to find a way to respond without letting fear intimidate me. As I learned to do that, I felt more buoyant, and the negative emotions became positive affirmations. The floaties came off, and I was ready to do laps in the giant pool we call society!

When I was in my late twenties, I attended a birthday party for my friend’s ten-year-old daughter. The outdoor playground was filled with colorful decorations, enough pizza to feed a small town, parents happily relaxing, adult juice boxes, and an abundance of children enjoying life. I mingled between groups and played with the kids throughout the day. During a moment sitting alone at a table, an older woman—probably in her sixties—approached me with a sweet expression and inquisitive nature.

Which one of these children is yours? she asked.

With sincere eyes, I shook my head and said, None.

Oh. She stared directly at me. Do you have a family?

With a smile I answered, Yes, a husband and a very large, tight-knit family.

Afraid she might assume I was at the children’s party for obscure reasons, I felt inclined to quickly defend my attendance.

I’m here for my friend’s daughter’s birthday, I swiftly stated.

After my statement, I felt her level of sincerity and observation. Those genuine attributes, along with her relaxed frame and honest smile, helped me feel comfortable. Without hesitation, she seamlessly pointed out with pride her blonde-haired granddaughter.

After that, we struck up a warm conversation around family. She spoke about her four children, how one had died of leukemia, and the insufferable pain she encountered from that loss.

While discussing her child’s death, she happily stared at the children playing.

Slowly, she turned to me, Even though I buried my child, I wouldn’t change my life. My purpose is to be a mother no matter what the circumstances are.

I sat there humbled and hooked on every word. The emotion in her eyes wasn’t just sorrow, but honor, and I wanted to experience more.

Thankfully, she continued the conversation.

What is your purpose then, dear? she politely asked.

I placed my hand on my chest. To be the best version of me.

She sweetly smiled, and we sat there in a friendly silence watching the children play.

In a world where curiosity is at the helm with obstacles preventing an easy or straightforward journey, assumption is its neighbor.

As a female you will constantly get asked if you have children, with the assumption you want kids. Case in point, the older woman at the birthday party. Though harmless, her icebreaker was wildly incorrect. In her defense, the odds were high that someone my age was attending the party because their child was invited; however, these assumptions happen with or without Bozo the Clown entertaining.

If you’ve made the decision to remain child-free—whether it be the timing, medical issues, or grief from losing a child—it is good to start preparing answers now. The moment you state, I don’t have children, you’ll face an awkward pause as the person questioning you determines why and how they will react.

Trust me, reactions vary.

Is it because you can’t have children? That reasoning garners an empathetic response accompanied by a head tilt, a gentle touch on your arm for support, and a slow closing of the eyes to reassure you everything will be OK.

Is it