When I was 4 I had a best friend who lived across the street. Connie. They lived in a white house so we called them The Whitehouses. Connie Whitehouse. I have no idea what their real name was. Anyway, Connie's Mom had a baby. Not a big deal, my Mom had a baby, too. BUT.. Mrs. Whitehouse fed that baby with her bosom! Seriously. It was astounding to my 4 year old ness. My brother had shiny glass bottles that had taken over the kitchen. The Whitehouses' kitchen just had food.
Connie and I both had baby dolls and Mrs. Whitehouse showed us how to 'feed' them with our bosom. It was so cool. But, when I went back across the street and fed my baby while my Mom fed my brother, my mother blew a gasket. "Our kind do not do that." I did not understand why the Whitehouses weren't our kind or what our kind was but I totally got that my baby doll would never get bosom milk again. I totally lost interest in the doll.
I took up picture painting. I never did take up dolls again. Just no interest.
Then when I was 6, we had close family friends - so close that even though they were adults we were allowed to call them by their first name - George and Helen. They had no kids. I remember asking my Mom why and she blew my mind with her answer... 'well, they decided they didn't want any children'. My little mind did a 6 year old equivalent of WHAATTTTT That's an option??!!!! Sign me the hell up!!!
The very minute I learned that having babies was a choice, I chose no. It's my gift to the world. I would have made the worst mother on the planet.