I've been trying a new personal phrase on for size.
"I don't want kids."
It's not something I've ever said. Ever. And I don't know that it's true, or if it is, I doubt it will remain true forever.
But every time I think something longing about a baby, or wish I had one, my brain says, "Eh, I don't think I want kids." And strangely, I don't really argue with it.
Most of this is precipitated by the fact that my depression has been flaring up lately, and so the thoughts of having to go off my medicine while pregnant, combined with the depressive thoughts of what a terrible person I am and what an inept parent I'll be, make it simpler to just forget about having kids.
I've never actually 'claimed' that thought, if you will. But now that I am, I'm finding it relaxing. It's almost like I can go, "Oh, okay, then no worries."
Will I have kids? Probably. This is me we're talking about; never having children would probably be the equivalent of never eating again. So am I lying to myself? It doesn't feel like it. If it becomes a statement that I flinch at, or try to rebut, I'll stop thinking it.
I have to admit, though: this doesn't apply to pregnant women. I still think they're adorable, and I will still grin every time I see one.
How long will this last? Who knows. But it's a fascinating thought experiment for the moment.