Category Archives: Bingoed
What About Him?
I can’t remember if I’ve written about this before, but something I’ve read recently brought this back to mind. Something like a year ago, I was on a pro-choice, feminist (there’s no such thing as an anti-choice feminist) blog. I forget why it came up, but I remember mentioning that I was planning on getting sterilized. It was then that I was reminded that not all pro-choice people actually are, but many are only pro-choice to the extent that it is still assumed that every woman will and must eventually have children at some point. For it was in a response to my comment where I received one of the weirdest bingos I’ve ever heard in my life. I have yet to be able to locate the post in question, my comment, or the comment of the bingoer. So, here I can only paraphrase what was said.
“You shouldn’t get sterilized. Maybe you don’t want kids, but what if one of your gay friends needs a surrogate?”
Even after all this time, I’m still just astounded by this particular bingo, and not because it’s sensible or convincing at all, far from it. Whereas other, more common bingos are stupid in predictable ways, this one takes a completely different, yet none-the-less ridiculous , approach to reducing me to a mere person-factory, rather than an actual person.
Well, this person first assumes that I have gay, male friends, which it just so happens that I do, not that this person would have had any way of knowing that. The following assumption is that my gay male friends would, first, want children, and, second, view their female friends as vending machine wombs for such a purpose. Not only am I expect to actually consider such a person as a friend at all, but I, as a woman, a friend to gay males, should agree that I am, indeed, a vending machine, and keep myself open for business just in case. The sexism on display is astounding, and especially so when coming from the keyboard of someone who claimed the title of “feminist” who, evidently, didn’t see the glaring problem with his/her words. That is just sad.
I am no stranger to vending-machine-type bingos. I remember that the first time I spoke with an OB/GYN about getting a tubal ligation, he made a point of asking about my partners. I write “partners” plural because he wanted to speak both about my actual boyfriend, as well as a hypothetical “Mr. Right” who could not have been my boyfriend. I was insulted that any man, real or imaginary, should even be considered at all when it came to my body. Yet, I was asked if I was married, then, when the answer was “no,” if I had a boyfriend, “yes.” “And how does he feel about this?” As it just so happened, by boyfriend doesn’t want children either, not that it matters, as it isn’t his decision what I do. Then the OB/GYN asked “What if you meet the right guy, and he wants kids?” As if someone who wanted kids could ever qualify as “the right guy” for me in the first place.
In these bingos, it’s always what he (whoever such a “he” might be) wants that matters most, and I’m a silly girl for not considering him first. The presumption was that what a man, any man, real or not, wants to do with my body is always more important to consider than what I want with my own body. Worse still, this argument is handed to me smugly, as if I really should agree with such a sexist denial and dismissal of my own autonomy. It’s bad enough when this bingo is offered with the man being a hypothetical partner of mine, but now I’m even expected by the bingo first mentioned to find even a hypothetical man who is only even a friend to have more right to my body than I have myself. As a woman, I am to view what I want for myself as less important than what any man wants to do with me, even in the case of men who aren’t even real.
What an awful, misogynistic world.
Edit: My boyfriend read and shared this post. When he and I discussed it, we talked about how to accompanied me to an appointment with another OB/GYN (not the one spoken about in this post.) He was expecting this doctor to ask him what he thought about me getting a tubal ligation. He supports my decision, but would have firmly told the doctor, had he been asked, that what I do is entirely my own business not his (my boyfriend’s.) Happily, this doctor never did asked and was the one who ultimately provided the tubal ligation procedure for me.
Like this:
Choosing Pets Over Kids?
Last month, Theresa Cisneros of The Mom Blog asked her readers, Why are people choosing pets over kids? The post in which she asks the question seems to be in response to a survey conducted by human and pet supplement company called Flexcin International, Inc., which found that 54% of respondents admitted that pets were a better fit for their lives than human children would be, with only 46% claiming the opposite. I’m immediately inclined to be skeptical of the survey, until I can see the methods by which it was conducted. If it was polling people with pets, specifically the kind likely to care enough to give their kids supplements, I would think they’d be more likely to get a pet-friendly answer by such people than they would the general public.
But never-mind that, it doesn’t really much matter. What does matter, it the question posed by Cisneros’ post:
Readers, I’d like to hear what you think about this subject.
Tell Me: Have you ever considered (permanently) opting for pets over kids?
She walks herself!
False dichotomy. You’ll never get a real answer until you ask the right question. I’m childfree and have one dog, but I did NOT choose pets over kids any more than I choose driving a sports car over being slapped in the face. That is, the two things have little to nothing to do with each other. Sure, I prefer one over the other, but that doesn’t mean that I chose one over the other.
I like dogs. Even if I had kids (which I never want) I’d still have dogs. Many people who do have kids also have pets. It’s not like people can only have one or the other. On the other hand, even if, for some reason, I had decided to never have pets, I still wouldn’t want kids. It’s not like I’m required to have either.
I like pets. They bring me a lot of joy and enrich my life. They’re a lot of work too, if the owner is responsible. If I had kids, it would likely negatively impact my ability to adequately care for my dog, as well as diminish that dog’s quality of life. It would be unfair to my dog to bring children into my family, which, again, I would never want to do anyway.
I don’t much care for children. Pets or no, children would be nothing but an unpleasant burden to me. I shudder to think of how much I would miss out on in life if I ever became a mother. Short visits from the children of my friends is about all that I can tolerate. It’s not that I “can’t handle” parenthood, it’s that it’s totally undesirable to me. There are lots of things that I could handle, if I had to, but would rather just avoid entirely. I can’t imagine wanting to ruin my life (and having kids would ruin my life,) and contribute to the continued destruction of our already overpopulated world, by breeding like some unneutered stray animal (overpopulation is not just a problem for cats and dogs!).
I chose to have something great for me. I chose not to have something horrible for me. But to say that I chose pets over kids is ridiculous
Like this:
Thought
“You’re too young to know what you want.” “You’ll change your mind someday.” “You’re just going through a phase.”
Those are all bignos childfree people often hear. We’re quite frequently told that we don’t know our own minds, but somehow the bingoer does. Such irritating dismissals are nothing short of insulting, as anyone who has dealt with them can attest.
It’s frequently pointed out that these bingos, while common to the ears of people with the courage to say, “I never want children,” are rarely if ever used on people who say “I do want kids some day.” Also not said to people who want kids: “You’ll regret having kids,” “what if your partner doesn’t want kids?” Indeed, I received similar but opposite comments when I was fighting for my tubal.
Never mind the unfairness of questioning the personal decisions of others (one particular group and not the other) for now though. My problem is the accusation that people who choose to be childfree haven’t thought their devision through carefully. Quite the contrary, I think choosing to be childfree necessarily requires much thought and honest introspection. When people live in a world where breeding is expected, it takes serious thought to realize that breeding even is a choice, rather than a mandate, and then choosing to opt out.
In contrast, it’s having children that often seems to involves little thought. I can’t count how many times I’ve encountered people with the attitude that kids “just happen” and put little thought to family planning. Then there are life-scripters who will declare that having kids “is just what you do,” and are shocked when faced with the fact that having kids is optional. Then consider that roughly half of all pregnancies are un-planned.
The picture paints itself. Sure, there are some responsible parents who think carefully over whether or not to have children, weighing the pros and cons honestly, and diligently do their research on relevant matters considering possible effects on their own lives and on the world at large. However, although I do not have the data to prove it, I doubt most people who have kids do the described. Most, it seems, put more thought into purchasing butter than they put into reproduction, and that’s a sad commentary in and of itself.
That’s what makes the accusation that I don’t know what I want all the more ignorant. I’m certain that I put way more thought into being childfree and getting a tubal than amount of thought that the average person puts into forcing a new person into this world, yet I’m the one questioned and dismissed out of hand.
Bingoed: What?! Sterility Means I Can’t Have Kids?!
I still laugh when I remember one particular nurse at my tubal ligation appointment. I had already spoken to the doctor, and singed some more papers. I confirmed my personal information and what I was there for with an attending nurse. I was already in my paper gown, stuck with an IV, and laying in the gurney. If I remember right, I’d even already had sedation started. I was all prepped to be rolled into the OR.
It took me two years from the first time I tried to talk to a doctor about sterilization to finally get to that pre-op room. It took me two PAs to find one willing to give me a referral to the OB/GYN clinic, and it took me two OB/GYNs to find me one willing and able to perform the procedure. It took me six months of suffering with an IUD which caused me a great deal of pain, as part of a deal I made with the first OB/GYN, for him to give me a referral for the second OB/GYN for sterilization. Along the way, I dealt with numerous judgement and assumptions from people who doubted that I knew my own mind. I dealt with having to make my case to doctors, having to justify my own personal decision to them, as if I really should need their approval and permission, as if I needed any justification.
But I was finally there. I was finally on the bed and set to go. In a matter of minutes, I would drift away from the sedation, the staff would roll me away, and my boyfriend would leave to go wait for me to be finished. I was so happy. And so at peace.
Then, a nurse I don’t believe I’ve seen before and who was not, as far as I was aware, involved with my appointment in any came over. She asked me what I was there for, so I told her. Then she asked me the most astounding question. I wouldn’t have even believe what she said really came out of her mouth had my boyfriend not been there to hear as well.
“You know that means you can’t have kids, right?”
I’m sure that, were I not sedated, I would have responded with something snarky. As it happened, I’m not sure how I responded, or if I even responded with anything besides laughter. Did she really just ask me that? My guess is that she was just some disapproving busybody who heard what I was there for and thought she’d get involved, but hadn’t really thought things through.
How in the world does she think I could possibly be at a tubal ligation appointment without knowing what it was for? Does she think that I just picked a random surgery from a list and just thought it would be fun? Does she think I just showed up at the doctor’s office one day demanding a random surgery without the slightest idea what the surgery did? And how does she think that, while talking to a doctor, that the doctor wouldn’t say anything that would inform me? How stupid did she think I was?
That would be ridiculous enough, but it gets worse than that. Since everyone is apparently supposed to have kids by the life script, a tubal ligation is extremely hard to get, especially for anyone young and without children. I had to jump though so many hoops and work so hard and do so much research and make my case to so many people over the span of over two years. There is no possible way that I could be on that bed in pre-op without knowing exactly what I was there for.
I can’t recall if she said anything further. I was out not long after. But I still remember her question. And I still laugh.
I’m happily childfree and happily infertile.
ETA: It seems I’ve made a mistake when I wrote this. I blame poor memory.
After I wrote this I read over my old post from the day after my surgery, recounting the events. Apparently, I was not yet being sedated when the nurse wandered over to ask this. Meh.
