Recently, I turned 28, I have been in a stable, heterosexual, monogamous relationship for two years with a pretty cool dude, who I like a bit…

So where are my babies?

This is the question I dodge on a very frequent basis.

Ignore the fact that I am a former commitment-phobe overcoming her issues on a day by day basis – and that I am nowhere near responsible enough to have a tiny person I am in charge of keeping alive forever and ever (they say it’s 18 years, but I’m living proof that you get more than what you bargained for).

My current interests are in travelling, focusing on my career, eating poorly, being a selfish moo, and instagramming cats I see (duh).

Apparently, this is insane. The only logical way to combat this insanity is to ask often whether or not I am thinking of having kids (because I’ve definitely got it all figured out…*eats a combo of crackers and cereal for dinner*)

I’m right in that age bracket where lots of my friends are getting married and starting to have babies. Some people I know even have two babies! People my age, are liable for not one… BUT TWO WHOLE HUMAN LIVES! This is hard to comprehend, as a person who constantly forgets she doesn’t have to pretend she is all good at the bar, because SHE HAS BEEN ALL GOOD AT THE BAR FOR TEN YEARS.

Do I feel the peer-pressure to pop a tot? Sometimes. Unlike generations past, people are doing things out of order, there isn’t a societal expectation to follow a trend, and people are having children later and later. There are enough of us non-kid-having millennial thus far that I’m okay, I’m mid-pack where it is safe. Plus I’m a poor-ish creative dating another creative. And you’d think the obvious answer would be not to bring another human person into this equation…

314033610_tp

Except that…

This is causing the generation above us (who we obviously love dearly) to get a case of by-proxy baby-rabies.

The invention of Social Media means that our grandchildren-less parents are watching their peers become grandparents and such, and it is clearly driving them insane.

I thought that becoming a “grand” anything meant you were getting old, and you’d want to avoid that moniker as long as possible.

But the random baby-related questions from older people I don’t know that well, is stressing me out, and I know it’s stressing out all my not-quite ready to get pregnant, but totally happy married/committed friends.

When did a woman’s reproductivity (is that a word? because it is now) become a topic for open discussion? Why is it considered polite chit-chat to ask me to “When I plan on having kids?” I’m sorry…did I step back in time to 1953?

What if I was unable to have children? For a lot of women, this is a reality, and it is incredibly frustrating, rude and offensive that this is even a topic of conversation.

The holidays seem to bring out the worst in us all as the grand end of the year gesture, and as another year passes and nothing too terribly exciting happens that I can post on my facebook wall, I wonder how long it will be until I dodge the next commitment-y type question from the well meaning people around me.

Sorry guys, not pregnant, it’s just all the thai food.