For many years I was one of those women who planned to not have children.
At the time the relentless sequence of life's milestones seemed oppressively predictable. I'd left school, graduated from university, found employment, got married and signed up for a mortgage.
Looking back, I think I might have held on to the idea of remaining childless partly because of what it represented. In a way it seemed like the last thing I could do - or, more accurately, not to - that would demonstrate imagination, individuality and freedom of thought.
I held fast to this belief that I wasn't sheep-like in my choices and to the illusion that I danced to the beat of my own drum. I read books with titles like Oh no, we forgot to have children! and wrote opinion articles for the NZ Herald called Rosy glow in vision of family is fading, People being paid just for propagating the species and - my personal favourite - Child-free are society's selfless philosophers.
If it had existed ten years ago I might have frequented sites such as thechildfreelife.com ("A safe haven in a baby-crazed world") and joined the local branch of No Kidding! which was established for people who are tired of hearing about the antics of other peoples' little darlings.