I’m not in your age group, but I’m 44 and childless by choice. Luckily, I met and married someone who felt the same way. We’re both just not cut out to be parents, for various reasons. However, the fact of growing old and perhaps growing old and older alone, without children, has its dark side. No one will come and visit me when I am 78, should I be 78 and alone, unless–
I or we, cultivate and create lasting relationships with people both our age and younger than ourselves.
My husband reminds me that even if we had children, there is no guarantee that they will give a damn about us in our dottage. Having children that we love is no guarantee that they will love and care for us in return.
On the whole, I am glad I am childless. I am too damned selfish, and even at my age, immature, to be a parent. But every door that you close leaves lingering questions about “what if…?”
However, there are plenty of homo sapiens on this planet, and there is absolutely no need for me to reproduce. Every child a wanted child, I firmly believe. And my doubts about having a child far overwhelmed the occasional “baby cravings” I’ve felt over my lifetime.
So my particular set of genes won’t be passed on. So, what? Our relatives’ genes will.
My husband and I are lucky enough to live in a time and society where being childless does not invite any condemnation. I suspect strongly that had my own mother been born ten years later than she was, I would never have come along. She didn’t have much of a choice, child of the 50s, whereas I, child of the 70s, seemed to.