Dear Abigail,
Lately I have been wondering if I am making a mistake by deciding not to have kids—usually after reading an essay in The Free Press about how important kids are and how no one is having kids anymore! I really don’t think I’ve been influenced by a larger societal trend or the economy or millennial climate fears or the desire to put my career over motherhood. I have never connected with the idea of having kids; even as a child, I never saw it as something in my future. Getting married—definitely, but not kids. The idea has always given me an instant feeling of panic.
I’m not particularly career motivated, so that hasn’t been a factor in my decision. My partner feels equally ambivalent about kids. We have friends and family with kids, and I’m always happy to spend time with them, unlike the child-free people I see on Reddit who seem to hate children. But even after spending time with my favorite kid, I don’t feel like I’m missing out. I think my partner and I will have a fulfilling life pursuing our hobbies and careers. I do worry about being lonely in older age or being alone if, God forbid, something happens to him. But having kids just to have company when I’m old seems selfish!
I also have lifelong mental health struggles and a family history of mental health struggles, which also makes me worry about postpartum depression or subjugating a child to having a mother with spells of depression. But overall, when it comes down to it, I’ve just never wanted kids! I keep waiting for something to change, but it never does.
Now that my partner and I will get married soon (probably 2027), I’m worried I’m overlooking something. I’m also worried I will change my mind at some point, and he won’t. Or vice versa! I wouldn’t want to leave him; I think I would choose him over kids. I want to figure this out before we get married. I have talked to my partner, but he isn’t stressed about this, like I am. Have I fallen for some sort of liberal propaganda? Am I making a huge mistake?
Thank you,
Childless, 29
Dear Childless,
In any high school class, there is a small subset of girls who always knew they wanted to be mothers. You know the sort: They immediately notice any small child in the vicinity, and engage him breathlessly, often at eye level. They often get married principally to have children—almost any nice guy will do. Unsurprisingly, many of these women become teachers.
There are also the girls who know, from a young age, that family life isn’t for them—a far smaller subset.
And then there is a vastly larger category: Those of us who assumed we’d have a family one day, but mostly, we wanted to fall in love and get married. It was only after we did those things that any vague sense that we wanted kids turned acute. Only after we had a husband we loved did we want to give him children, a family, a legacy. Only then did we begin to envision him with a child propped up around the back of his neck, tiny hands gripped gently by his giant palms.
