The right answer

 I think I was about 37 or something like that. There's only one exact date I can remember and that's my birthday. I had been thinking for a long time that I will probably not have any children, I couldn't see me doing that. I look at babies and small children and think, aaaah, aren't they sweet, but that's as far as it went. I can hold them, and play with them, then I am happy to hand them back. My sister was different, it was always on the cards for her to have a family. And she did. 

From my early twenties to my mid thirties I went to the doctor every six months or so for the pill. This was such a relief to me that I could do that, it took the pressure off. Questions were asked of me from friends and relatives, when are you going to settle down and start a family. I muttered something along the lines of not yet, or I haven't found anyone I want to marry. Truth be told I was horrified at the thought of 'settling down'. Crikey, what's that, stuck inside a house, with a routine, chained to someone else. I couldn't do it. The questions went on for a few years.  

Taking the contraception pill for a long time was thought to be dangerous, so I started to think of other solutions. I tried some of the others, they weren't appealing to me. And so I started to ask the doctor for a more permanent solution, I was about 35 at this time. Dr Miller was a lovely man I could talk to him about anything, he didn't judge my lifestyle.

 I brought the subject up about a possible sterilisation, and for about two years he kept putting me off saying there was plenty of time to think about that. One appointment I went to there was a different doctor on duty, so I brought it up again with him. He said he would make an appointment for me at the hospital to speak to someone. At last I might be getting somewhere and time was moving on. This needs to be sorted. 

The appointment arrived and I went along to the hospital to speak to the gynaecologist, a Miss Gintz. It was an interview to see if I had thought this through properly, and for her to explain what the operation entailed. She gave me a thorough grilling, the questions came thick and fast. I felt that she was more interested in my mental health rather than my physical health, which was excellent by the way. I wasn't doing it for medical reasons, I wanted control of my body and peace of mind. 

There was one question which stuck in my mind. Miss Gintz asked if I had thought about bringing the next generation into the world. This flummoxed me a bit because I had never thought that it was my duty to do that. The first thing that came into my head was, and I said it out loud, 'there are plenty of other people doing that, I don't think one less would make any difference'. 

With that her mind was made up. I wondered if the fact that she was unmarried herself and probably hadn't had any children, swayed her decision. She said I would be contacted sometime in the next six months. 

A letter came one month later, saying I was to be admitted the following week. I remember thinking, this was crunch time, and I could back out if I wanted to. But no, my mind was made up and had been for a long time. I felt a great sense of relief when it was over. No more explaining why I wasn't married and why I hadn't any children. Nobody feeling sorry for me because I was still on the shelf, as they called it in those days. No more pitying looks because I was still single at 37. My new answer to the questions was, 'I don't have any children, by choice'. 

I didn't need to bring any children into the world. There are enough people having babies, and one less hasn't made a bit of difference. The consensus now is that there are too many people, and the earth cannot sustain everyone, which is a green light for those who are intent on reducing the worlds population by whichever means they see fit. 

It's 11.15am, raining outside, and I haven't had my breakfast yet. I will get something now before I faint. Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.   ilona