As someone who never wanted children - it just didn’t interest me - I’ve always been a little confused by the dissection of women who don’t want children, because it suggests there’s something curious about choosing to continue going on with life as normal. But I find the decision to overhaul one’s life and invite the many risks of parenthood much more interesting.
Which is why I’ve always wanted to interview happy (rather than regretful) parents. I genuinely want to know why they had kids, how much thought they gave it before doing it, whether or how it changed their lives, and would they do it again?
I choose happy over regretful parents because anyone can visit the regretful parents Reddit and spend hours reading tragic stories of people who were duped by pronatalist messaging, pressured by people around them, or simply naive and who hate parenthood. But that’s an extreme; the other extreme, delivered on TV and in movies and books, is the “happy” parent for whom the trials are minor and the rewards are glowy and great.
But what about the real-life happy parents? What motivated them to change their lives, and what’s their experience like? What is all the pronatalist messaging not saying?
I asked a parent of two if she would be willing to answer some questions.
WHY DID YOU HAVE YOUR FIRST CHILD?
It fit into the timeline in my head and I felt the biological urge. I didn’t think about wanting children. I expected I’d have one or two—it was the normal course of things. After I got married the wanting kicked in.
WHAT DOES THAT “BIOLOGICAL URGE” FEEL LIKE?
Twenty-five seemed like the ideal age to have a child. I was physically primed for it, and I had time to have a second child while still in my twenties. I saw children as the next stage of a married relationship. Having a child together would take my husband and me from couple to family. We’d have with us a person that could only be made by the two of us combining parts of ourselves—a lifelong bond.
When I took a birth control pill, I would wonder how long it would take me to conceive if I stopped taking them. If I had my period I felt a little sad, like it was a missed opportunity. The biological process would sneak into my mind when we were getting intimate. I wanted to feel a human growing inside of me, to watch my belly grow, to push the baby out of my womb and into the world. I knew it would be lengthy, uncomfortable and the birth painful, but I still wanted to do it. That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me unless I attribute those cravings to primitive brain signals and hormones.
The moment my husband and I agreed on it, I quit smoking—something I’d refused to give up for 9 years. My desire to have a child was so strong that obstacle melted away like it was nothing. I created a plan to mate during my most fertile time. It was three times within that window of roughly a week, every other night to give his sperm time to rally. My husband thought he signed up for months of trying. I was on a mission and conceived that first month. From the moment of our decision, I was wholly committed to caring for our family. It was the beginning of my obsession with parenting.
WHY DID YOU HAVE YOUR SECOND CHILD?
I wanted my first child to have company. (It’s probably clear by now that there wasn’t a lot of thought put into these decisions.)
I thought it was better to have two children so the first wouldn’t be lonely and would have some peer support. I was an only child and wished I had a sibling. But… after going through awful nausea in pregnancy, monthly ultrasound monitoring of a band of tissue in my uterus that could have restricted my son’sgrowth, walking with a cane in my last trimester because of sciatica pain, and nineteen hours of labor and delivery, I swore I wouldn’t get pregnant again. It took a year and seven months for that to fade, but when it did, I was as committed about having a child as I was the first time and I got pregnant that first month.
There was never a plan to have more than two children, but that biological urge to procreate was strong enough to make me feel hopeful a couple other times, long after I knew I was done making babies. There were two stressful pregnancy tests that I needed to be negative because I didn’t want to do it again, but I still felt disappointment when I got the answer I wanted.
I cannot explain that feeling of disappointment at all. I know that if the tests had been positive, I would’ve been terribly upset and I would’ve considered abortion.
DO YOU HOPE/EXPECT YOUR KIDS WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE OLD, IF YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?
Ideally, I’d like to take care of myself or hire someone whose job it is to assist people to help me so I’m not burdening my kids. But, sure, if I needed assistance, it would be nice if they’d help me out. Hopefully, that need would be temporary. I don’t expect it.
WHAT ARE YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR CHILDREN HAVE THEIR OWN CHILDREN, AND WOULD YOU EVER CONSIDER TRYING TO PERSUADE THEM TO HAVE CHILDREN (WHY/WHY NOT)?
I would not try to persuade my children to have their own children. I advised both my son and daughter not to have children before they’ve thoroughly considered the degree of that responsibility and how having children would change their lives. I emphasized that it is a CHOICE, and having kids is not something they should ever feel like they need to give in to, for any reason.
It seemed important to make that clear, because I don’t recall thinking I had a choice to not have children. It should’ve been obvious, but I let my autopilot guide me through that decision.
Both my kids have expressed to me that they didn’t want to have children of their own and I support that. Since then, my daughter has decided she may have one child. I would support that also.
PEOPLE WILL SAY PARENTING IS HARD, BUT IS THAT WORD ADEQUATE WHEN TRYING TO CONVEY THE CHALLENGES OF PARENTING TO SOMEONE CONSIDERING HAVING A CHILD WHAT THEY SHOULD BE PREPARED FOR? WHAT DOES “HARD” REALLY MEAN?
“Hard” is the pain you feel when they’re hurt, the worry you’ll experience in countless circumstances, doing the right thing for them despite how you or your children feel, accepting that they must face the hard stuff themselves as they grow. The fear I have felt for my kids is worse than any I’ve ever felt in my life, and nothing hurts me more than their pain.
Some of the harder things a person should consider about having children (beyond the ability to care for them) are the possibilities that they could have a child that is born with physical or mental challenges, or that they may have to raise their child as a single parent.
A lot of things in life are hard. Raising kids is just another one of those things. The harder thing to do is become the type of person who should parent children.
I don’t recall thinking I had a choice to not have children. It should’ve been obvious, but I let my autopilot guide me through that decision.
IF YOU HADN’T HAD KIDS, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN?
It’s difficult to imagine. I made a lot of spontaneous and stupid decisions when I was younger, including having children before I deeply considered what that would mean and how that would change things.
There’s no telling when I would’ve come to my senses and been more thoughtful about my life and what path I would’ve chosen. I’d like to think I’d be back in my home state, walking the beach every morning with my dog, spending time at a home studio being creative, and following that occasionally with beloved family and friends.
Having said that, I am grateful for the life I live. I believe I’d be content in either situation.
YOU’VE SAID YOU WANT TO MAKE SURE YOUR KIDS KNOW HAVING A CHILD WILL CHANGE THEIR LIVES, AND YOU SAY YOU HAD CHILDREN “before I deeply considered what that would mean and how that would change things.” WHAT DID IT MEAN? HOW DID IT CHANGE THINGS? I CAN’T HELP THINKING THERE’S MORE TO IT THAN WORRY/GUILT RE: THE KIDS, OTHERWISE PEOPLE, INCLUDING PARENTS, WOULDN’T SAY “IT CHANGES YOUR WHOLE LIFE – YOU BETTER REALLY WANT IT.”
CAN YOU TALK ABOUT HOW IT IMPACTS THE LIFE OF THE PARENT(S) TO HAVE A CHILD? LIKE, WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL?
The biggest impact for me was the shift of focus from myself to my children and honestly, no amount of consideration would have prepared me for it. I felt a sense of responsibility when I was pregnant and I took good care of my body for my growing child, but when I held my son that first time and he looked into my eyes, that moment changed me so hard and so suddenly that I haven’t been the same since. That was the most awesome and overwhelming experience of my life and the love I felt for him, instantly, scared me.
I felt the same thing when my daughter was born even though I knew what to expect. I felt the terrifying responsibility of guiding these lives until they could be independent. They were so vulnerable and entirely reliant on me and my husband.
I changed drastically when I became a parent, and I’ll admit that it wasn’t healthy. I obsessed about caring for my children. I quit working after my daughter was born because I couldn’t trust anyone else to care for them like I would. We were exhausted with activities that helped them develop into creative, intelligent, and thoughtful humans. I was a volunteer for everything they were involved in, I knew everyone they were connected with, I carefully constructed and supervised all of their waking hours.
I changed drastically when I became a parent, and I’ll admit that it wasn’t healthy.
I was a ‘Helicopter Mom’ ever present and hovering. Every decision in my life was made around my kids to the point that my personality changed. I became fearful, paranoid, I even found God for several years. We structured our whole household around the children. They were first, all the time. I wish I hadn’t, but I neglected my husband.
I didn’t take my attention off the kids long enough to think about anyone else until my youngest was fourteen. That is sixteen years of obsessive-compulsive parenting that took over me before I started giving them space. I have slowly been recovering myself, but seven years later I still must remind myself to let go—let them be the adults that they currently are and live my own life now.
Every parent has different issues, so I don’t want to give the impression that this is what I believe all parents experience. But it’s worth considering that I was not that person prior to having children. I was wild and adventurous—even kind of reckless. I didn’t worry about things until I held my children’s lives in my hands. I had no idea that would happen to me.
Sometimes, it feels like I lost all those years of my life. Not in the way that I regret having them and loving them, but in the way that I wish I had been better balanced. I wish I hadn’t become the kind of parent that I was and that I’d retained my sense of self throughout raising them.
THIS QUESTIONS IS ASKED WITH THE UNDERSTANDING THAT YOU OF COURSE LOVE YOUR CHILDREN AND WOULD NOT WANT TO BE WITHOUT THEM IN THIS LIFE YOU CURRENTLY HAVE: IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME AND DO IT ALL OVER, WOULD YOU STILL BECOME A PARENT?
I wasn’t a worrier before I had my son and daughter. They are adults now and I still worry about them. At times, I let my sensitivity toward them get in the way of parenting them well. I still struggle with mistakes I’ve made.
If I went back in time to do it all over, and retained what I know about my kids now, I would do it again because I really enjoy them and admire them as adults. But I’d want to know I’m getting those same kids.
If that wasn’t guaranteed, I might not. I might not marry either. I might live a simple unbeholden (but still connected) life. I’m sure there’d be a lot more thought put into it the second time around. I’d need a lot more time to consider it than I have to answer this question.
I want to say yes because my kids are awesome. The problem is, I’m a little traumatized by parenthood. I think I raised them okay, despite my mistakes, but it’s going to take a lot of meditation and personal reflection to recover from the personality that took over me when I became a parent.
Now that my kids are grown and that identity has decayed, I’d be wary of it returning. It was so dominating that even with hindsight, I doubt I could avoid it in a second round. I am so grateful that it didn’t ruin them.
WOULD YOU SAY HAVING CHILDREN FULFILLED YOU?
I’ve had many fulfilling moments with my children. I wouldn’t say that I’m wholly fulfilled because I had children. I don’t think any one thing could do that. I’ll probably always feel like there’s room for more filling of the cup.
A LOT OF PEOPLE HAVE THIS IDEA THAT THEY CAN ACCOMPLISH THEIR GOALS AND DREAMS WHILE BEING A PARENT. HOW REALISTIC DO YOU THINK THIS IS?
It depends on what their goals and dreams are. It’s possible, especially if you aren’t parenting alone. It’s more challenging, since those goals aren’t your sole concern, and it may take longer, but parents do accomplish goals and dreams if they’re properly motivated to.
Personally, I lacked that motivation. I didn’t balance well. I placed most of my time and effort into my kids. I have fantasized about what I might have done, and even though I think I could have put more time into myself, I don’t regret investing it in them. I do think that the quality of that time and effort could have been better.
HAVE THERE BEEN GOALS YOU TRIED TO ACHIEVE SINCE HAVING KIDS? HOW EASY OR HARD WAS IT? WHAT DID IT INVOLVE?
The hardest goal I set out to achieve since I had kids was getting my college degree. I returned to school when they were in early elementary and pre-k. I went to classes while they were at school or at night when my husband was home.
But then my son started having problems in school. He lost interest and he wasn’t paying attention. We let him go to school at home to keep him engaged in learning and once he started that, my daughter also wanted to be at home. About the same time, my husband got orders to deploy to Afghanistan. It wasn’t the first time he was gone—he left quite a lot—but it did put me in a bind because I couldn’t take night classes anymore. I refused to rely on a baby-sitter, so I switched to online classes and I continued my college study at home.
I was their teacher during the day and a full-time student after they went to sleep at night. My goal was to complete my degree program before my husband returned from his deployment and we moved to Japan. That meant that I was up until 2-3 am most nights trying to get my own schoolwork done and whatever personal things I needed to tend to.
I was tired, discouraged, lonely and sad. My husband was gone, my close friend moved away, and my kids were testing my patience every day. I cried while doing my assignments. I wanted to give up so I could breathe. Sleep. The reason I didn’t was because my husband pushed me not to. He told me if I didn’t finish, I wouldn’t get around to it. It would remain incomplete. I was terrified that he was right, and I needed to graduate so I could be a good example for my kids, so I stuck with it, and I did graduate.
I completed my courses while “staying strong” when I found out my husband’s convoy was attacked by enemies at war. While guiding my kids through fourth and first grade, taking them to soccer practice, martial arts training, Scouts, and music lessons. While trying to get organized for our upcoming move. I didn’t accomplish that—the house was a mess when the movers arrived, but I did manage the rest of it somehow.
There are other things that I’ve tried to achieve and didn’t. I have wanted to organize all my digital pictures since the late nineties. I’ve made at least five serious attempts to purge and order them all, but I’ve never completed the task and it grows and grows.
I wanted to learn photography on a serious level, get back into drawing, relearn and master piano, learn to play the ukulele, finish writing any story (not for publishing but for fun), get skilled at yoga and meditation. I’ve dabbled in all of it, but I haven’t fully achieved any of it.
It’s not because I’m a parent though. I like to say I don’t have the time, but the truth is, I don’t make the time. I don’t want it bad enough. Being mentally tired from family things may contribute to that lack of motivation, but it can’t be the cause—that’s on me.
IF YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE A CHECKLIST OF QUESTIONS OR CONSIDERATIONS FOR FUTURE PARENTS TO MAKE SURE THEY’RE AWARE OF THE MANY THINGS A PARENT WILL OR COULD EASILY EXPERIENCE BEYOND THE JOY AND THE REWARDS WE’RE TOLD CHILDREN BRING, WHAT WOULD YOU PUT ON THAT LIST?
Considerations:
- Any child could be born disabled and may never become independent. They may require special care.
- Are there hereditary conditions that run in your family that you would not want your child to inherit? The reward may not be worth the risk.
- Every parent should be prepared for the prospect of single parenting, and that is so much harder than dual parenting. There’s no break when you need one. No support.
- Are you healthy? Is it reasonable to believe you be around and able until a child reaches adulthood (and that doesn’t magically happen at 18)?
- In some way (hopefully a small way), everyone fucks up their child.
- You have all the responsibility of properly caring for them but no control of what happens. You’re going to make a lot of mistakes. You cannot keep them safe. You can’t make them do what’s right or care to learn what you’re teaching them. It’s hard to reason with kids because their brains aren’t mature. They will aggravate and terrify you, but you must remain calm under pressure or everything will fall apart.
- Sending them off to school or other activities that should be safe isn’t as easy as it might seem to be. Anywhere there are large groups of kids together and not enough adults around to monitor them is like Lord of the Flies. Kids form their own social groups and hierarchy and the ones at the bottom get hurt. I’m not exaggerating. There was a nonverbal autistic child in our public school system who, this spring, was assaulted by his peers and had a swastika carved into his back with a sharp object while he was supposed to be under the care of an adult. Deadly weapons are routinely found in the schools here and children are frequently traumatized by bullying. Parents who cannot afford other options have no choice but to send their kids to these crowded and underfunded institutions.
- Are you a good listener? Do you believe children have the right to be heard? My dad told me that his dad used to say, “Children should be seen, but not heard.” He tried to do it differently, but sometimes that idea prevailed in his parenting. He was a great teacher when I was young, but he gave up on me when I became a teenager. He said I was an embarrassment and he was ashamed of me and that was the bulk of our communication. My parents didn’t know how to handle me, and I didn’t recognize that I needed them. Communication is key, and listening comes first.
- Who are your role models, mentors? Are they, or do you think they’d make, good parents?
- If you have trauma in your past that you haven’t confronted/accepted and worked on, you should do that before you have children. Otherwise, your damage will affect them. In fact, even if you work on it, your damage may still affect them.
BEFORE HAVING KIDS, WHAT DID YOU ENVISION MOTHERHOOD WOULD BE LIKE? HOW DID IT REALLY COMPARE?
WHAT I MEAN IS, WHILE YOU WERE PREGNANT THAT FIRST TIME FOR NINE LONG MONTHS, YOU MUST HAVE HAD SOME IDEA OF WHAT BEING A PARENT WOULD ENTAIL. WHAT YOUR DAY TO DAY LIFE WOULD BE LIKE, WHAT KINDS OF THINGS YOU’D DO, HOW FULL, OR NOT, YOUR DAYS WOULD BE.
FOR EXAMPLE, WHEN I WAS IN THE FIRST MONTHS OF A RELATIONSHIP AND EVERYTHING WAS HAZY AND FULL OF LUST AND BUTTERFLIES, EVEN I, WHO DESPERATELY DON’T WANT KIDS, WOULD IMAGINE HAVING A CHILD WITH MY DREAMBOAT, AND I WOULD HAVE A VISION OF A THREE-YEAR-OLD, OR SO, IN A LITTLE SWEATER AND JEANS AND PLAYING IN A LEAF PILE, THE SUN LIGHTING HER HAIR. OR THE ROMANCE OF DREAMBOAT GETTING UP TO FEED THE BABY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHEN IT WAS HIS TURN. IT ALL FELT FUN AND COZY AND RELATIVELY EFFORTLESS, IN THOSE FANTASIES.
WHAT WERE SOME YOUR VISIONS, AND CAN YOU COMPARE THEM TO THE REAL-LIFE EXPERIENCE?
I thought I’d have that great period where I was glowing with pregnancy and my husband would pamper me and look at me like I was the most beautiful thing. The reality was that he was deployed up until the month before I gave birth, I was mowing the lawn with a big old belly, and when he came home we found out that my dog had cancer and was going to die.
I imagined breastfeeding every hour-and-a-half to two hours, with little sleep but my baby would be sleeping in his crib. The feeding part was pretty accurate, but the baby slept in our bed because I got sick of getting out of mine. I also imagined breastfeeding as effortless, but it was painful at times. My nipples were sore, and my son’s teeth came in early and he bit me. He thought it was funny because I would gasp. I flicked him on his cheek with my finger to teach him to stop. My mother-in-law advised me to do that. It horrified me but I was desperate, so I did it, and it worked.
After having a relatively easy first child, when my second was born I thought she would be calm, curious, and happy. She came out angry and remained that way. She wouldn’t uncurl from the fetal position so the nurses could measure her after she was born. She only slept on my chest those first few months and it was a restless sleep. We used to pace the hall slowly, exhausted, both of us crying. I thought she might walk early, like her brother, but she took twice as long as he did and screamed at him to bring her everything she wanted. She couldn’t stand her dad and she cried and kicked when he tried to hold her (until she was about two). And this cute little girl cried on her birthday because she didn’t want to be three. She has never stopped being fussy!
PLEASE SHARE YOUR REACTION/RESPONSE TO THESE PHRASES WOMEN WHO DON’T WANT CHILDREN HEAR PRETTY OFTEN:
“YOU DON’T KNOW REAL LOVE UNTIL YOU HAVE A CHILD.”
Anyone can know real love. Being a parent does make you feel a different kind of love (I did feel a very special love unlike any I’d felt before when I first held my son) but that doesn’t make other loves less real.
Being a parent does make you feel a different kind of love (I did feel a very special love unlike any I’d felt before when I first held my son) but that doesn’t make other loves less real.
“A WOMAN’S GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT IS CHILDREN.”
Oh, I don’t know. It takes little effort, if you’re biologically able, to have children. There’s not much in the way of achievement beyond not using birth control.
Raising children well—that’s a great achievement. It’s not the only great, or greatest, achievement a woman can make though. What if a woman raises great kids but also gains protection for an endangered species or cures cancer or something? I guess it depends on your personal point of view.
WHAT IS YOUR POINT OF VIEW?
HERE’S MINE: IT COULD BE ARGUED THAT MANY KIDS GROW UP TO BE PRETTY GREAT ADULTS IN SPITE OF THEIR PARENTS RATHER THAN BECAUSE OF THEM. BUT, THAT SAID, YOUR RESPONSE SUGGESTS TO ME THAT ACHIEVEMENT-WISE, THE ONLY THING ABOVE RAISING A DECENT HUMAN IS CURING CANCER? SAVING A SPECIES? THAT FOR A WOMAN TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING GREAT, THOSE ARE HER TWO OPTIONS – HAVE A CHILD OR SAVE THE WORLD?
I ASK THIS BECAUSE MANY WOMEN HAVE ACTUALLY BEEN LED TO BELIEVE THAT IF THEY DON’T HAVE CHILDREN, THEY’D BETTER DO SOMETHING PHENOMENAL TO “MAKE UP” FOR IT. THAT’S A LOT OF PRESSURE, WHETHER YOU CAN’T HAVE OR DON’T WANT CHILDREN. IT COULD ALSO LEAD TO PEOPLE THINKING HAVING CHILDREN IS THE ANSWER IF THEY FEEL AIMLESS OR USELESS. “NO PROBLEM. I’LL JUST HAVE A CHILD – THEN I CAN LOOK AT MYSELF AS A SUCCESS.”
BUT IS PRODUCING AND CARING FOR OFFSPRING REALLY AS NOTEWORTHY AS INTENTIONALLY, THROUGH STUDY AND HARD WORK AND DETERMINATION, CHANGING THE WORLD?
A person’s greatest achievement is a personal thing. It’s whatever they decide they want to accomplish the most. No one else’s ranking matters.
A greatest achievement has no more to do with children than it does anything else. It can be children, but it is not by default, children. I don’t know how else to reply to this statement. Women, don’t allow yourself to be groomed. You should be your own measure of success. It’s never a good idea to have children if you don’t want to and having children is not necessary to being a good or successful person.
“HAVING A CHILD MAKES YOU MORE COMPASSIONATE AND EMPATHETIC.”
I’ve always had those qualities. I don’t think my kids made me have more of them.
“HAVING A CHILD MAKES YOU GROW UP.”
In my case, this is true. I pulled my head out of my ass the moment I decided I wanted to get pregnant with my first child.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE STATEMENT MORE GENERALLY? AS SOMETHING PEOPLE SAY TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T WANT KIDS.
It’s a false statement. Having a child doesn’t fix anything that you might think is broken in your life. Having a child won’t fill a void. It won’t give you purpose unless you choose that purpose. It’s a colossal responsibility that’s going to require a lot of sacrifice, care, and time from someone, if not you.
“NOT HAVING A CHILD MEANS YOU’RE SHIRKING RESPONSIBILITY.”
If you don’t want the responsibility of raising a child, good. Please don’t.
Not having a child, for someone who isn’t interested in raising children, is the responsible thing to do. It’s too risky to think you might change and want a child after you get pregnant.
Choosing not to contribute to our existing problem of unwanted children is compassionate and right. A child’s life is not something to be compromised. Pressuring people who don’t want children, or who aren’t ready to, to have them is ignorant and irresponsible.
“YOU’LL BE LONELY AND DEPRESSED WHEN YOU’RE OLDER IF YOU DON’T HAVE KIDS.”
Kids grow up and live their own lives. They usually don’t remain with their parents long enough to see you use a walker.
You’ll be lonely and depressed if you’re a miserable person no one wants to be around. You can be nice and make friends.
“CHOOSING NOT TO HAVE KIDS IS SELFISH.”
Choosing not to have kids is thoughtful. Thanks to anyone who has made that choice. It’s responsible, it’s kind, it’s wise and it can be a difficult choice to make, even if you’re certain you don’t want children.
THANK YOU.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this post or the subject matter I cover, you might also enjoy my novel The Age of the Child.
“This book manages to avoid the sanctimonious or pedantic lecturing that a lot of fiction dealing with sensitive social topics can fall into, achieved by Tsetsi's deft balancing of sincerity and humor. Definitely worth a second, if not third, read.”—Amazon Review
“Scathing social commentary.” — Goodreads Review
“The Handmaid’s Tale and The Farm, to name a couple, have opened the dystopian genre to questions about reproduction; however, The Age of the Child is one of the first I’ve read to really consider the issue of reproductive rights and attitudes so deeply.” — Rebecca Maye Holiday, author of The Beaches
Pleasantly surprised by this post. Thank you both for the beautiful introspection and vulnerability of these shares. A powerful and thoughtful conversation.