This is a contribution by Guest Blogger Kim Childs.
Posted originally on October 13, 2011 by kimchildsyoga
I love children. I just never felt the desire to have any of my own. Well, maybe for a fleeting moment. There is, after all, a certain sweetness in thinking about creating another person with someone you love and seeing the two of you reflected in that little child. But I didn’t marry until my mid-40s, and I know that I currently do not have the patience, selflessness, or energy that it takes to raise a child well. Case in point: I get so annoyed when our cat wants to play and chat at 6am that I hustle her outside and leave her there (with food…I’m not heartless) until we ’re ready to rise. Pretty sure you can’t do that with a kid.

There’s also the fact that my husband, a new immigrant to this country, has required a tremendous amount of my time and energy these past three years as he launches a life over here from scratch. I’m sure he’d also tell you that I don’t have the patience to raise a child, given the many (many) times I’ve lost my cool when things haven’t gone smoothly for us. I see, too, how much I worry about his safety and wellbeing out there among people who don’t always treat him, a heavily accented black African, with kindness and respect. With kids, I could see myself vacillating from worried mess to hovering nuisance to control freak—none of which foster healthy child development.

I do, however, feel rather maternal toward the adult students I guide in my yoga classes and creativity workshops, where I coax many wounded inner children to come out and play. When I later run into my “grads” around town and hear about the positive changes that took root during my classes, I beam and coo. This work feels like my life’s calling, a large part of my legacy, and the best use of my nurturing skills. I do have some actual kids in my life, too, and they are fabulous. The list includes three delightful nieces, a brilliant nephew, the four precious children of my Sudanese “little sister,” and my neighbor Sophia, a toddler who greets me with an exuberant “I!” whenever she can. I get my kid fix spending time with these honest, observant, funny and amazing little people, and I enjoy them.
All this, and no diapers to change!
In truth, I have occasionally wondered what I’ve missed by not having a special wee someone to love and call my own, but the thought usually passes pretty quickly. A wry girlfriend of mine put it this way, “You can’t miss something you never had. I’m at peace with the fact that I’m childless, and happy being ‘married with dog.’” I wanted to know what my other childless friends had to say on the subject, and so I asked. I was happy to learn that none of the women I surveyed had felt criticized for their choice, even if they may have felt the unasked question coming from friends and relatives, including their mothers. A few of them shared my own early experience of being a so-called “parentified” child, meaning that we took on too much responsibility for ourselves and others as kids. Some believed that this was enough to put them off becoming a mom.
One friend of mine reports that she wanted to have kids until she moved to a yoga ashram at age 30.  “Living a celibate lifestyle as my biological clock ticked faster and faster helped me get clear that I was fine not having babies and preferred to work with the child in myself and the adults around me,” she recalls. “This led me to my career as a life coach, helping others to birth their own evolving consciousness. While I would never claim that my choice was more rewarding than being a mother, I feel truly honored and gifted by all those who allow me to assist, serve, and mentor them. I often silently thank their parents for birthing them so that I might also be part of their lives.”
Another friend and colleague admits that, when her younger sister first got pregnant, she thought “for about 12 seconds” that it would have been fun to go through pregnancy together. “Today I am so clear that the decision to be ‘childless by choice’ was absolutely right for me,” she reports. “My work as a coach, helping women to have their dream relationships, is incredibly gratifying for me. While I never felt pressured to be a mother, I do think there are plenty of women who have kids because, ‘It’s what women do.’ I’d love to see more women opt out of those ‘shoulds.’”
“I don’t remember making a conscious decision to not have children,” says one friend in her late 40s, “but I never felt a strong pull towards having them. I do think I’ve turned some judgment on myself with thoughts like, ‘I’m not really a full woman if I haven’t labored through the physical birthing process.’” What it feels like I’m birthing now is a more authentic and whole expression of myself…seeking to know more about how I move in the world, how the feminine shines through me, and what kind of mothering really feels like my calling.”
Another dear friend says that even though children “just didn’t happen” for her, she’s enjoyed being there for her nieces and her friends’ children. “I love spending one-on-one time with them,” she says. “I’ve taken them on adventures to glamorous cities, river rafting and coast exploring, and on day trips to old-time amusement parks and science museums.” Having now developed close relationships with two stepsons and a daughter-in-law, my friend adds, “I know I missed something special in not experiencing a child’s development from infancy and I suspect I missed a personal-development opportunity in not knowing the compromises that come with child-rearing, but I feel fortunate at this point to be essentially free of child-worries, yet enriched by the love I feel for the young people in my life.”
“I feel like I never got to be a kid,” says a former colleague who’s worked hard to heal from her abusive mother. She also worked hard as a first grade teacher for many years before growing weary of the repetition and routine that children require. “At 48, I love being single and having only myself to care for. It’s fun that my life belongs to only me! I get to check in and see what parts of my child or immature self need some attention. My mature self supports, nurtures, and cares for my kid self. And my kid self gives my mature self joy, laughter, and adventures of all kinds.”
A relative of mine says that even though her parents were loving and devoted, she never wanted a family of her own outside of a husband and some pets. One deterrent, she says, is the idea of bearing a child. “My uterus has been nothing but trouble for me since I was 12 years old, so the idea of being pregnant does not appeal to me at all. My body may have been “built to take it,” but squeezing out a seven-pound (or more!) child with all that pain and mess is something I have no interest in doing. The care and attention that follows is something I also have no desire to experience, and I simply do not have the patience to deal with a teenager. After spending time with my friends’ children, who are great, I know my decision is the right one. The joyful chaos I’ve witnessed is an experience I’m more than happy to forgo—preferring structure, order, tidiness and a fixed schedule.”
And sometimes it takes other pioneering women to show us that it’s okay to blaze unconventional trials. My former roommate is a storyteller and maker of whimsical jewelry who once thought she was flawed because she never caught “baby fever,” even as her biological clock was winding down. “But then I read Gloria Steinem’s Revolution from Within: A Book of Self-Esteem,” she recalls. “It made me realize that there is no wrong way to be a woman.  This simple truth lifted a great weight off of my shoulders and I became something I was far more qualified to be:  A fairy godmother.”
And so I raise my glass to all the special moms, stepmoms, aunties, mentors, grandmas, teachers, coaches, counselors, godmothers, fairy godmothers and childless women out there. Honor your choices. Celebrate your life. Be yourself, as Oscar Wilde said, because everyone else is already taken.