If you’ll recall, I was loathe to join Facebook but finally gave in - to peer pressure from two people whose opinions I value highly… so, whatever. Now I have connections to various people of varying levels of closeness and whatnot. This is fine. I’ve been using Facebook as a place to display my newfound Flickr addiction (obsessively checking my Flickr stats to see which photos are getting the most views… it’s a little sad and a little sick). But that’s another story altogether.

Today’s story is about me being cynical and bitter. Not horribly so. Not even comically so, perhaps. Or not. You decide. Here’s the short story and why the hell it has anything to do with Facebook.

I received a message today via Facebook from a person I knew in high school (and elementary school before then) and who found me on Facebook and requested my Facebook friendship (I feel the need to designate that as its own special flavor). The message (twelve years after high school graduation) was three lines long. The construction:

A greeting, then “Are you married? Any babies?”, and a closing.

This is a sweet and lovely person. She recently had a child and sounds happy. I really would love it if I could just instantly reply, without thinking twice, “Great to hear from you! Congratulations! No marriage and no babies for me, but I’m happy all the same!” to subtly respond to why, at the age of 30, I haven’t found a mate to entrap in marriage and why I haven’t birthed young to propagate our already overpopulated species. Nope.

I have to go through this cynical and, admittedly, downright nasty thought process and get all defensive, practically bristling at the fact that it’s the FIRST THING someone asks. “Are you married? Any babies?”

NO and NO. How about asking, “How are you?” and leaving it open-ended? It’s just a more proper way to handle it, really. What if I were unable to have a baby for any number of reasons? What if I were a lesbian? What if I’d just miscarried or gone through a divorce? Why is the ball-and-chain/baby question first and foremost on most women’s minds? When I say I don’t have either, I almost always see eyebrows and eyes soften and hear the utterance of a sad, sympathetic little “Oh.” (Yes, even when they write - I imagine it then by reading between the lines). Then they ask me if I’m planning on it. Why must people assume that all uterus-equipped bipeds are just floating along until they can jump on the birthing bandwagon?

Mind you, I don’t feel there’s anything innately wrong with jumping on the birthing bandwagon. It’s a personal choice, much like almost everything else in life. My dear friend will be having her baby in just a couple of weeks and I will be in attendance at this birth, acting as her doula. I’m highly supportive of this - it’s what she and her husband want and it will bring them a new shared happiness. That, as they say, is a beautiful thing. Another dear friend just let us know that she’s expecting her second child; she’s always wanted to be a mother, and this is natural and right — for her.

For me, right now, in my current life situation and relationship status and thoughts and beliefs, marriage and motherhood are two things that don’t cross my mind at all… even when I’m talking to my friend about her pregnancy and her child. That maternal instinct that some women have or that kicks in when they get to be my age? Nope. Hasn’t happened. I look at babies and think they’re lovely and cute and a wonder… but I don’t have the stirrings and urges that make me think I want to experience that personally. I just don’t.

The only thing that’s made me change my song from “NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. NEVER.” is that I can’t account for one big variable. The other person. At this point, I seem well on my way to a firmly established spinsterhood, chock-full of fun hobbies, wonderful friends, and no breastfeeding. But I will allow for the 1.3333% chance that I’ll meet someone, and that that someone will be amazing, that we’ll decide that we really like each other in some overlapping period of time, and perhaps decide that we could put up with each other for another 40+ years. If that was the case and this person was suitably amazing and made me want to engage in this redonkulous science experiment starring me as the petri dish… there might be a chance.

But the point is that I dislike myself for being incapable of reacting to that question without anger or annoyance or a defensive attitude or a lengthy blog post to make me feel better for having bitten my tongue and written back, “Congrats. No marriage or kids for me. How are you enjoying motherhood?”