Then, of course, there's the fear that I won' t invest enough of all that shit in them and they'll turn out to be serial killers and will be all my fault. As he was about to be executed, some serial killer's mom said, "You will always be my precious son." Do I want that kind of love in my life? I'm scared. Would anything I could help produce be any real gift to society? Or would it merely be a bane? I want a career, dammit! I want to be able to stay all night in a lab if I think I'm really about to make a breakthrough in my research and not have to worry about my children getting fed or taken care of. I don't want to be the neglectful scientist parent who spends all her time at work and no time raising her children. I know that giving birth to and raising the future generation is a huge task, and I just don't think I'm up to it.
My last defense for voluntary sterility is simple: haven't I already raised my children? My two sisters spent the fIrst years of their life not being sure which brown- haired female that lived with them was Mommy and which was Molly. Mom and I were both Mommy. However, much as I'd like to think So, I can't honestly say I believe that being "Mommy" for a year each for Lillian and Emma took care of my maternal needs. Lately, I've begun to hope that one day I could actually raise kids that would do some good in the world. I think I might actually want children. That unconditionallove-- the love that extends even when your children shame you ultimately--is becoming more and more appealing. The power bestowed upon a mother is a great and awesome thing.
All these revelations can be traced to one of two things: Vicki' s show "Daughters of the Myth" or Halloween. My friend Vicki created a performance piece that I ended up acting in that really made me realize the responsibility I have to the world--to be a good mother, to make up for all the bad ones. The whole second half of the show was about how motherhood unites women. Vignettes about hysterectomies and miscarriages endowed in me a little more respect for the honor of motherhood. Even if I do decide to have children, it won't be for several years...and yet I still felt connected to the characters whose centers of existence were their wombs. My poor little uterus hasn't done much except spit out an unused placenta once a month. Maybe, just maybe, it deserves to be really used for something.
As for Halloween, I know it sounds silly, but some of my fondest memories are being taken around the neighborhood with my parents trick-or-treating in a cute home-made costume. I handed out candy at home this year ( one of the advantages of being able to walk to my house from the dorm) and every little fairy princess and superhero tugged on a little string inside my heart and pulled me closer and closer towards admitting to my maternal instincts.
I guess I won't know what my kids will be like until I have them and raise them. My one fervent hope is that their father will have more of an idea of how to produce decent members of society than I do. So look for me at our 10 year high school reunion. I'll be the one carrying around a baby on each hip. Somehow, somewhere, I'll find the strength and guidance to make them worthwhile uses of carbon atoms.
--Molly Tinius
On Motherhood
I never thought that I'd ever want to have children. Oh, sure kids are cute. And Mom and Dad will want grandchildren. But even the cutest babies poop in their diapers and cry at 2 a.m. and hurt like hell coming out! And then they grow up and go to school and either stress themselves to death doing well or get depressed because they don't do well. Not to mention the fact that the world is overpopulated anyway--do ~ see any reason why I should contribute to it? Neither did I.
Fact of the matter is, I just don't like children very much. They're annoying and underdeveloped. They're human pupas, but they don't do us the service of wrapping themselves in a cocoon until they're adults. We have to put up with them and invest time and emotion and love and all sorts of stuff that generally ends in pain.