Baby proof

don't go around asking what her reasons are.'

'True,' Jess says. 'But that is a whole nother topic about women's role in society.'

In my mind, I hear Ben ranting about people saying a whole nother instead of another whole. 'C'mon, people! Nother is not a word). 'And just like I did when I saw Mohammed Muhammed's name in the cab, I feel myself tearing up, thinking how much I am going to miss him and his quirky observations.

'Don't cry, hon,' Jess says, patting my leg.

I blink back my tears, take a deep breath, and then say, 'I'm just so sick of everyone assuming that you have to have kids to be happy. I thought Ben was different, but he's just like everyone else. He totally bait and switched me.'

'It must feel like that.'

I notice that Jess is not exactly agreeing with me, so I say, 'You're on his side, aren't you? You think I should just suck it up and have a baby.'

'I'm not… judging your feelings about not wanting kids. I'm the last one who should be judging anyone's life choices, right?'

I shrug and she continues, 'I think your decision on this is a perfectly legitimate choice. It's the right choice for a lot of women… I think, in many ways, it's a very brave choice… But I do think we should talk it over. I don't want you to have any regrets.'

'About not having kids or about losing Ben?'

'Both,' she says. 'Because right now they seem to be one and the same.'

I blow my nose and nod. 'Okay.'

Jess leans back in the couch and says, 'So go ahead there. Leave no stone unturned.'

I sip my coffee, think for a second, and instead of rehashing my usual reasons, I say, 'Did I ever tell you about the study of mice missing the Mest gene?'

She shakes her head. 'Nah. Doesn't ring a bell.'

'Well, there was this study where scientists determined that mice missing this one particular gene-the Mest gene-have an abnormal response to their newborns. Basically, without this gene, they have no mothering instinct, and so they didn't feed or care for their young the way the other mice did.'

'So? Are you saying that you're missing the Mest gene?'

'I'm just saying that some women probably don't have that… mothering instinct… I don't think I have it.'

'Not at all! Not even a trace of it?' she asks. 'Because I've heard a lot of women say that they thought they didn't have it until they had a baby of their own. And then, voila! Nurture city.'

'Is that a safe gamble?' I ask. 'What if it doesn't kick in?'

'Well. I think there are a lot of effective mothering styles. You don't have to be Betty Crocker or June Cleaver to be a good mother.'

'Okay. But what if I'm sorry I had a baby at all? What then?'

Jess frowns, looking deep in thought. 'You're really good with kids,' she says. 'You seem to really like them.'

'I do like kids,' I say, thinking of my sister's kids and Raymond Jr. How good it felt to tuck his warm little body against mine and inhale his sweet baby smell. 'But I have absolutely no desire to have one of my own on a full-time basis. And I firmly believe that if I had one, I'd wind up resenting Ben. Even worse, I think I'd resent our child. It's not fair to anyone.'

Jess nods again, adopting that earnest 'keep going, we're really making progress' shrink expression.

'I like my life the way it is. I like our lifestyle. Our freedom. I can't imagine the constant state of worry that parents have… From worrying about SIDS, to falling down stairs, to drunk driving accidents… that worry doesn't go away for eighteen years. In some ways, it never goes away. You worry about your children forever. Everyone says it.'

Jess nods.

'And, truthfully, Jess, how many married people with kids seem genuinely happy to you?' I ask, thinking of my sister Maura and how her marriage started to become strained right after her firstborn, Zoe, arrived. And their relationship got progressively worse with her two sons that followed. I am not my sister, and Ben is not Scott. But it does not seem at all unusual for a relationship to change once children arrive on the scene. They are a drain on your time, your money, your energy, your patience. You can't put your relationship first anymore. So for better or worse, the dynamic of two people shifts and takes a new form. A form that sometimes seems to have more to do with surviving than truly enjoying life.

'I know what you mean.' Jess looks sheepish and then says, 'Trey often refers to his family as the 'noose around his neck.' '

'Charming,' I say. 'My point exactly.'

'I don't think he means his son,' Jess says defensively. 'Just her.'

Jess goes out of her way not to say Trey's wife's name, Brenda. I think it makes her feel less guilty. She continues, 'But I don't think he'd feel that way if he were married to the right person… And I don't think you and Ben would end up feeling like that. I think kids bring problems to the surface. Y'all don't have real problems. You would maintain a good marriage with kids.'

I know it might ruffle Jess's feathers, but I risk it and tell her that Trey's wife probably thought she would maintain a good marriage with a child back in their early days. Trey probably thought so, too. Jess juts her jaw in protest, but I continue, 'And I know for a fact that when Maura and Scott were hooking up strong in Scott's Jacuzzi and all over the rest of his bachelor pad, Maura would never have believed he'd someday cheat on her. That things would get so… depressing.'

Jess continues, 'Those are the exceptions. Most couples are even happier with children.'

'I don't think so. The unhappy ones seem to be more the rule… Then you have Daphne's situation,' I say.

'Daphne seems to have a solid marriage,' Jess says.

'They do,' I say. 'But right now I think she and Tony seem so obsessed with having a baby that that one issue has completely swallowed them up. They don't talk about anything else. They don't think about anything else. They're… becoming boring.'

Jess laughs and says, 'Weren't they always sort of boring?'

Jess is the only person I let criticize my family. Still, I can't resist defending Daphne. 'Boring in a very sweet way,' I say, thinking of how excited she gets about things like scrapbooking. 'I'd actually call her simple, not boring. Refreshingly simple… but lately she and Tony are just plain grim. Not that I blame them…'

Jess sighs loudly and says, 'Well, anyway. The point is… there are plenty of happy couples who have kids.'

'Maybe,' I say. 'But I have no confidence that we'd be joining their ranks. And I'm not trying to turn my life into some kind of science experiment.'

'Like the Mest mice?' Jess asks.

'Like the Mest mice,' I say.

I stay at Jess's place, only returning to my apartment once in four days, when I know Ben is at work, so that I can pick up my cell phone and some more clothes. I keep waiting for him to call me, but he doesn't. Not once. I guess I really don't expect him to, but every time I check my voice mail and hear 'no new messages,' I feel a fresh wave of devastation. Of course, I don't call him, either, so I hope that he is feeling the same way as he checks his messages in vain. Something tells me he's not, though, and there's something about this hunch that makes my pain feel exponentially worse. The whole 'misery loves company' thing never applies more than when you're breaking up. The thought that the other person is doing fine is simply too much to bear.

Jess insists that I'm being paranoid-that of course Ben's just as sad as I am-but I have two good reasons for believing I'm in a worse state than he is. I share the first reason with Jess one night over Chinese delivery, reminding her that Ben is blessed with the ability to wall himself off from pain and settle into