When I was in school I went through the sex ed. classes like everyone else. I had been as attentive as a 7th grader can be, and I had learned quite a bit about the biological origin of children. What they failed to tell us in that class, and all the classes that followed it, is where children really come from. We'll get to that in a minute.
My wife and I got married last September, and we had decided then to wait a couple of years before we made up our minds to have children. Our goal in this was to get to know each-other, and to make sure we were financially stable before we start having children. We thought that there would be enough stress in our marriage in the first few years, with both of us working (me at a startup), and adding a new baby to the mix would make it incredibly hard to get along. We decided to build a foundation that could support a family, instead of just getting started.
Now, however, we've been married for a little over 10 months, and I'm starting to realize where children really come from. It may be love and sex that creates a child, but I'm pretty sure that it's peer pressure that initiates the act. That's right, forget what you think you know, children come from peer pressure.
In the last week, I have had five conversations with five different people about the joys of parenthood. None of these conversations were initiated by me. The conversations happened with coworkers, and once a vendor who visited my office.
Each time the conversation started with, "So you've been married for almost a year. Is there a baby on the way?"
To which i would reply, "I don't think so, do I look pregnant?"
With my witty answer given it's due, usually a groan, then the real pressure would start. Each time the parents mentioned the following points:
- You have never experienced love like the love of a child for it's parent.
- Having a child will change your whole perspective on life.
- It's the best thing that can happen to a person.
- You never get annoyed by your own child's screaming and crying.
The list goes on, but you get the idea. According to these parents, babies are the best things in the world. I felt like I was standing at the door listening to one of the Mormon Missionaries who has stopped by to tell me about the wonders of the church.
When I told this story to a close friend of mine, who has children, she said, "Well misery loves company." That may be, but these parents seemed to genuinely believe what they were saying. Maybe, I thought, they were part of some vast pro-child conspiracy.
A listing of the good points didn't end the pro-child conversation, however, then it was time for the innuendo. I would get questions like, "Are you trying?". Then I would hear comments like, "My spouse and I had to try for awhile before we got pregnant."
We have now moved away from the benefit side of the argument into innuendo. Now we are talking about what might be wrong with me or my wife. We must be doing something wrong because we've been married for 10 months and there is no baby! This is when I get a chance to relate my story about how my wife and I have decided to wait for a couple of years.
That is when the pro-child conversationalist delivers the pièce de résistance, "I agree, you shouldn't have children until you are ready." This is a devilish trap, it implies that they agree I'm not ready for children. While, that is basically what I said, there is a voice in my head saying, "I'm ready, put me in coach."
This statement is usually the end of the conversation, thankfully. The convergence of all these pro-child conversations in the last few days has really gotten me to think. I'm experiencing more peer-pressure to have children then I ever did to do drugs in high school. The part of all this that has really surprised me is that four of the five conversations have been with men.
I told my wife this story the other night, and she was surprised as well. She said that she hasn't experienced anything like this at her office. Maybe my experience has been an isolated one, maybe there is no vast pro-child conspiracy trying to convince the childless to start making babies. It definitely made for a strange week.