Why I Chose to Be Childless

   
Being at a women’s college in the heyday of women’s liberation, and having a mother who was a feminist and a good mother if no great fan of motherhood,  encouraged me to make my own decisions about whether my personal future would include being a mother. In declaring that I would forgo motherhood, I wasn’t so much making a statement about my personal life as I was saying that I would make a sacrifice and depart from the pattern, because I did and do believe that to avert ecological catastrophe individuals must change their lives—that the whole civilization has to change, in fact.  
   
The non-mother label stuck to me, but I didn’t let it define me or limit my topics.  I spoke about overpopulation, ecology and the social change necessary to deal with the problems our species had created. Occasionally I was pitted in debate against women or men whose cause was maximum human reproduction. Once in a great while the conversation got nasty, but that was the exception. Mostly I was greeted with appreciation and admiration. A lot of people felt that I was saying something that needed to be said.    
   
There were well-intentioned folks who told me that I was just the kind of person who should be having children. I would respond that given the presence of the then three billion people on Earth, there were already plenty of promising babies in the world, a multitude of whom could be well served by some economic and racial justice so that the privileges I had enjoyed wouldn’t be such an extraordinary qualification for motherhood.
   
Even though my decision not to have children was made on what might be called political grounds it proved to be a good personal choice. I am cussedly independent and I love my solitude and freedom. Nevertheless, over the years I have revisited my decision. I never felt an overpowering enough desire to have a child to grow my own or to adopt. But the chagrin of going back on my vow wouldn’t have deterred me if I had changed my mind about motherhood. Other women, I know, have been able to combine demanding vocations with motherhood. Given my particular nature, the responsibility and distraction of childrearing most likely would have prevented me from pursuing my work as a writer, which has been immensely rewarding, if difficult and uncertain much of the time. Now that I’m old enough to be a grandmother, I sometimes wish that I had a granddaughter to commune with, but I am friends with some spectacular young people and can learn from them as well as pass along whatever wisdom I’ve developed. That will have to do.