A New Era?

Recently, I have noticed that a number of my female friends, in their 30s, are opting out of motherhood.  They are married, or getting married, and are professionals, and I am sure they have tons of reasons to make this decision.  All of them are personal, and I do not for a second judge this choice.  It is absolutely theirs to make.  But it has made me wonder about this generation.  It speaks to more than just these women, you see.  It speaks to all of us in their (relative) age bracket, who are choosing to speak out about parenting.  In many ways, it seems to be all in one to me.

I have been a free speaker all of my life.  In middle school I often questioned whether I was too sarcastic for people, too loud, too outspoken.  I questioned, through high school, whether my sense of humor turned people away.  I was never quiet or sheepish or meek.  I was (am?) an actress, whose voice carried without training to the back of the auditorium, and I never learned to whisper or to be nice for the sake of being nice.  Since high school, I have gravitated to women who, like me, speak their minds.  I see this in my virtual world as well.  The bloggers I enjoy most tout the realities of parenting.  We are working women and men, who love our jobs, almost as much as we love our families.  We are people who want to be super human...who long to soar in their careers, and in parenthood.  We are trying to do the impossible.  Because of the fact that the balancing act only works sometimes, and because of the fact that we feel the need to speak, we blog.

But this, like the women who freely admit to not wanting to be parents, is new to our world.  This public speaking about our difficulties would not have been okay in any other decade.  A woman who said that she enjoyed her life as it was, and that she and her husband loved being able to go out at a moment's notice, to travel unimpeded, to sleep in and laze the day away on a Sunday (clearly I miss all of these things) would have been castigated, ostracized, or at least looked at askance.  Just as, those of us who question our daily tight rope walk, who wonder every day if the next day will be easier, who watch our tantruming (totally not a word) toddlers in grocery store aisles and try not to bare our teeth, and then blog, or Facebook, or tweet, about these things moments (or hours) later, would have been made to feel ashamed.  We would have heard in response from mothers who loved every moment and cherished every second.  There would have been few, if any, empathetic comments.
I am trying to be more aware, these days, of the possible mothers around me at work.  I am trying to remember to say all of the wonderful things that come with being a mother.  I am trying to remember to tell them that if I weren't Abby's mom and Josh's mom, everything else (and I do mean this with all my heart) would mean less.  I would be more cynical.  I would laugh less.  I might be better rested (although I've never been good at sleeping), but I would feel their lack in ways I can't imagine now.
So perhaps there's good and bad to this new era of free speaking parents.  I find solace in reading about other POTY (parent of the year- when you know you are not winning the war) moments, and it helps me breathe to know that other people out there have similar frustrations and difficulties.  It certainly helps me to work out my thinking on issues, as I share them with you all.  But I wonder if it's also turning other women off to hear us speak so frankly.  I don't know.  Perhaps when and if they choose motherhood, they'll benefit from doing it with open eyes and not those shaded by rosie hued glasses.  Or perhaps they will opt for more rest and nights out.
For me, it was never a question.  Now off to my glass of wine and bed, so that I can wake up at 5:15 with whomever cries first.