Monthly Archives: February 2013

Confessions Of A Mother: “I Hate Being A Mother”

I come across regretful parents all the time. I can pick them out a mile away, too. The ones that feel the need to resort to “Breeder Bingo” are pretty much all regretful parents. It’s that sort of “buyer’s remorse” thing that’s talked about so much in psychology. Yes, it is a very real psychological phenomenon.

Alas, there are a handful of regretful parents who are willing to admit their regret. I think it takes A LOT of courage to stand up and admit this, so I always have to tip my hat to those who are willing to do so. Here are the words from someone who, by her own admission, hates being a mother. You can find the original post here.

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For you idiots out there though, hating motherhood does not equate to hating children.  Let’s get this straight before we continue, m’kay?

Birth control?  Yeah, been there, done that.  BC failed.  Once was a broken condom and I have no fucking idea how the last one happened.  I hear hormonal BC is more effective, but when it causes occular migraines with speech aphasia, it is out as an option.

Abortion?  That would have been a lovely option.  The first time we had no car and funds thanks to an emergency that had just drained our savings.  Supposedly Planned Parenthood does offer discounts based on income but that was when my pro-choice super liberal friends decided that abortion would make me and my husband sad so they refused to even help with an hour-long car ride.  The second time I had the funds but with Dr. Tiller dead and the Wichita Planned Parenthood shut down, the nearest abortion center was over four hundred miles away…oh and car problems once more!  The car problems always seem to time horribly with conception.

Adoption?  In my state, the father has to sign over adoption and my husband always said it was never an option.

I always feel the need to explain the previous statements because people always wonder why I bothered having children if I hate being a mother so much.  I didn’t want children…ever.  Now I am scared to even have sex with my husband because children might result.  Thank god for oral sex and masturbation.

I am not even a person anymore.  I am so far from what I was pre-children that I look in the mirror every morning and start crying.  I am this catty bitter angry shell that is biologically alive but nothing else.  I have no human spirit and no motivation.  The physical and mental stressors of pregnancy and child-rearing have killed my immune system, my gums and teeth, and other parts of my body.  The lack of money means I do not even have the means to fix it.

I was counting on the Medicaid expansion so I could get counseling as well as health care for my physical ailments, but with the Supreme Court making the Medicaid expansion optional and I live in a state whose public policies are currently extremely conservative, I have no hope that Medicaid will cover me in 2014.  I hope Medicaid expands because the federal vouchers for health insurance only cover those from the 100%-400% poverty line.  I live in the 65% poverty line which means our family will get nothing if the state refuses to expand Medicaid.  When Congress made decisions about the insurance vouchers, they assumed families like mine would be covered under Medicaid expansion.  They didn’t fix that part when the Supreme Court struck make it optional.

I would just kill myself, but my family is too poor for suicide.  The funeral would cost money and then my husband would have to find a way to replace the free childcare and the income I brought in from being self-employed.  Part of me knows that would devastate the family unit so that is what keeps me from getting life insurance now and just waiting until both children are in school and committing suicide then.  Life insurance policies in my state have to pay out for a suicide if the bearer has had it for two years.  Oh, wait, life insurance requires a doctor visit for a check-up which is money I just do not have.

Life can go fuck itself and it is way too early to be drunk, but whatever.

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The Astronomically Rare Bad Luck Of Being Brought Into Existence

“As we have seen, nobody is lucky enough not to be born, everybody is unlucky enough to have been born – and particularly bad luck it is.” – David Benatar; Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence.

I’m an antinatalist. I believe that it would have been better for all of us to have never been born. As for why, the reason is simple: to come into existence is a prerequisite for experiencing all of the pain, suffering, and harm in one’s life. To borrow another quote from my favorite antinatalism advocate David Benatar:

We infrequently contemplate the harms that await any new-born child—pain, disappointment, anxiety, grief, and death. For any given child we cannot predict what form these harms will take or how severe they will be, but we can be sure that at least some of them will occur. None of this befalls the nonexistent. Only existers suffer harm.”

Since nobody wants to experience harm, and experiencing harm is negative, so it follows that it’s better never to have been. The so-called “good” stuff in life doesn’t negate this fact, for even the “good” stuff in life doesn’t cause on a direct benefit. Merely, things like happiness, joy, love, among other “positive” human experiences are merely the absence of negative experiences and not really inherently positive (for the non-existent aren’t deprived of them since they are unaware they even exist).

So being brought into existence is terrible luck. OK, but just how terrible? Well, when you actually look at the odds of your unique individual self coming into existence, we see just how rare and terrible this luck is. Of the hundreds of thousands of eggs in a mother’s ovaries and billions of sperm produced by a man’s testicles over the course of his lifetime, it took one specific egg and one specific sperm to create the unique individual that is one’s self. With that, we can see that the probability of you coming into existence was astronomically low, and much lower than the chance of winning the lottery. Yet you came into existence. Talk about absolutely rare and unfortunate luck!

Case in point, when I hear someone say to me that they’re unlucky, I just have to nod my head and agree, because it’s so true, for we were all incredibly unlucky to have been brought into existence.