When Heather and I talked about a collaboration between Keep Writing and her project, Human Reproductive Stories, I realized I don’t know my birth story. I have ideas and whisps of bits that may be facts or may be fantasy about my mom’s journey as a mother. I know one secret I haven’t told anyone.

My reproductive health journey has been fairly consistent: I never wanted to birth a child and my strongest fear in my 30’s and until I completed menopause at 45, was that my hormones would override that lack of desire. A friend talked about being 31 and suddenly finding all babies adorable. Babies are fine. I appreciate babies with suspicious looks, who won’t fall for your baby voice. But I’ve never wanted to have one.

Most of the time, I feel it’s enough to try to get myself through this life, to navigate a relationship, and an art practice without being responsible for another future adult. I know, all the folks who say it’s worthwhile, that is easier and harder than you imagined, all the people who have kids and talk about how fulfilling it is, I believe you. So please believe that I’ve never wanted it.

You might know that I had a step kid for a while. I fell in love, and agreed to be as much of a parent as I could. And for a while, I did. We still have dinner sometimes, which ever person I know with step parents says is a good thing. I like them, the kid. They are just now a teen, and talk to me about queer identity and Pokemon. We talk about their boyfriend, and haircuts, and sometimes rocks. I keep showing up because the only thing I really ever understood about about being a parent or step parent is to be there. And even though their dad and I divorced, it doesn’t seem fair to disappear. I check in every few weeks to see if they want dinner. I tell their dad they can always say no, even if it feels rude. I tell them this too. But they enthusiastically show up so I do the same.

Only once did I think I was pregnant. I was in my 20’s and had been careless with my partner. I was a week or so late, which was unusual. I was also throwing up every morning. I called the local clinic, the first place I ever had a pap smear and STI tests when I was 18. On one of my first visits, a lone protestor was outside, assuring me they would take care of my baby. I told him I was just there for an exam, and to leave me alone. But when I called at 25, they gave me an appointment for a pregnancy test. Then they shared some information about how to induce menstruation—not as medical advice, just something they’ve heard. Making it clear that they could not tell me this as a medical professional but shared a remedy I was familiar with.

The next day I started bleeding. And I realized I was drinking emergenC on an empty stomach, which is basically a bubbly acid, so of course I was throwing up every morning.

You can share your story with humanreproductivestories.com.

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