This author could have been my husband, and Piper could have been me, 4 years ago when we got married. Our feelings about having children were, in a word, ambivalent. Neither of us could make up our minds at all as we headed into our mid-30's, but we were aware that time was limited. We had a house, a good income, a stable and loving relationship, everything that a kid could need to grow up feeling safe and secure and loved. So rather than actually make up our minds, we just left it up to fate. I went off the Pill and we went on about our business. If it was meant to be, we figured, than it would happen, and if not, then that was fine too. After about two years we had just about gotten to the point of accepting that we were infertile when I started feeling a bit weird and, sure enough, I got those two pink lines. Of course, terror ensued. But to our mutual great surprise, when our child arrived, we experienced true joy and a depth of love that neither of us had thought we were capable of. Aside from much lost sleep, we've truly never been happier - but would that also be the case for this author? I can't answer that. And to be honest, had we not ever gotten pregnant we'd probably still be pretty happy and comfortable with our lives. My husband would still be working instead of staying at home with a kid, we'd be making more money and not putting any of it into a college fund, we'd still be going out to dinner and seeing first-run movies and going to the theater, and we probably wouldn't be driving a Volvo baby tank. Now we're considering a possible kid #2, but will probably leave it up to fate again. What the heck - it worked the first time, right?

Long story short - I suggest you don't bother making up your minds. Just stop trying to prevent it from happening, and let the chips fall where they will. You're probably capable of being happy whatever the outcome.

Hooray for Piper, that's what I say. Larry, stop whining!

Get yourself a garden, some cats, dogs, goats whatever, then go and plant some trees. Or, even better invest the millions of dollars you'd spend raising a kid on reforesting some land, then place a convenant on it so it's protected in perpetuity.

That's what my husband and I have done. The satisfaction we get from knowing we are investing in the future of the planet, including thousands of plant and animal species, instead of succumbing to some selfish genetic urge to produce an amalgamation of ourselves, is refreshingly multi-faceted. Not only do we get to see the fruits of our labour develop into valuable, healthy ecosystems, but we can still party all night without worrying about finding a babysitter.

Maybe sometimes I do worry about the fact that my cat won't be around to look after me when I'm old, but who cares? Individual humans are so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Rather than generating another drain on the world's resources (or another world's resources if we survive long enough to find one) why not put your energy into regenerating the home we all share now?

Piper, get yourself a bulldog puppy and love him like you would a child. The rewards can be resounding.

Not because you're not sure if you want them, but because there's about 20 years left of earth being inhabitable. Why do you want to bring more people into the world that will have to deal with it's destruction? If you feel like you must parent, there are plenty of children who need to be adopted. You can even make their surname "Smith" since that's so important to you.

There are very few people I would say this to because it's easily misunderstood, but it sounds like the author would get it: One of the interesting things about having a child is that you no longer have to wonder what you're supposed to be doing. Parenthood is many things, but certainly a clarifying experience.

How about an article about the many many many American couples who'd like to have children but can't imagine having the financial ability to do so? I wish I was in this dude's position, with that stylish New York DINC lifestyle that is so incredibly fun and amazing that he can't imagine messing it all up with kids. He represents a minute (and continuously shrinking) percentage of the population. Congratulations.

Now, how about talking to the dual-income families who, despite working every waking moment, can't afford to buy a home, can't afford to have children, can't afford to take a vacation, and can't afford to have $10 margaritas in the East Village? The ones who can't have kids because they don't have health insurance? You know, those ones? The ones who are actually facing an actual problem?

These would be the people I could relate to. I would actually like to have a child. But our financial position is so precarious, I'm not sure we could manage it. And what would I do about work? Taking away one of our incomes would put us frighteningly close the poverty line. But who can afford child care? This article did nothing but break my heart. These people have what I so desperately want.

This continuous string of stories about priviledged people living charmed lives is really getting old. I understand that every person's personal problem, to them, is the biggest problem in the world. But in journalism, perhaps a little objectivity is called for.

There's a basic false assumption here. You plan to be healthy and well off so long as you both shall live. What happens if Piper gets MS or breast cancer? You aren't planning for that, are you? Or maybe you'll be in an auto accident and disabled. Or have a heart attack or stroke. Or god forbid, find yourself without the money to enjoy life's most important THINGS.

Life can't be planned but must be lived. The self indulgence and self centeredness echoing through this essay are astounding and sickening. Read it out loud to yourself. Can you stand yourself?

There are people who are happy without a partner or children. Maybe you'll be one of them, but the level of doubt you entertain suggests not. What you're expressing is really a fashionable position I've seen people regret deeply when they start to enter middle age and realize life it's always youth. Then it's too late.

And no, neither men nor women can do it all. Whatever you choose, means other roads are untraveled. As a famous poet once put it.