Baby, Question Mark.
I’m definitely not the first woman (or man) to be overwhelmed by Baby, Question Mark., but somehow I still feel isolated and on the verge of distraught regarding making the decision.
I do think that’s largely due to the fact that I’m 28-years-old (young), married at 27-years-old (young), married a man 19 years older than me (no regrets), and, most noticeably, my closest group of girlfriends (intelligent, remarkable women from my childhood) are far from making these decisions in their owns lives. A couple are in long-ish term relationships, most are single, none live with their significant others, and none are anywhere near the decision of baby making (if, when, how). So, I suppose my sources of female insight are limited. And I also believe there’s an element of comparing your own personal timeline to that of those closest to you. My timeline, at this point, is so different than theirs which was 1) very unexpected for me and not in my “plan” and 2) possibly highlights the enormity of such decisions when you’re going about them solo. Maybe if my friends and I were all 35-years-old and following more similar timelines, I’d feel less consumed by the decision? Maybe? Maybe. Anyway…
As I feel myself spiraling into an abyss of disorganized stream of consciousness, I’ll attempt to add some structure to this post:
When To Decide: The Plight of a Self-Proclaimed “Planner”
Well, I’m 28, so there’s no rush. I never strongly desired children — in fact, at one point, I firmly did not want them. At this time, I in no way feel a maternal instinct or an inherent desire to follow a particular “calling” to bear children. Yes, I’ve been told countless times, “When you’re older, you’ll want them.” I’m not opposed to the idea that that could happen at a certain point in my life. However, when communicated to me with the certainty that I will want them, it’s insulting and exhaustingly old-fashioned.
But, curve ball. As I approach 30, my husband is approaching 50. And somehow his 50 makes my 30 feel like a 44 (mathematically, there’s no logic there). Which makes this decision more pressing. I don’t doubt that we could have a child at ages 30 and 50 and he would be an active and involved father and around for quite some time to enjoy our life together as a family. It’s very possible — I mean, it’s 2017. But, it does change the feeling of that “28” number from “I’ll worry about this later when I’m older” to “it wouldn’t hurt to think about this now.”
As far as I’m concerned, my biological clock is not even close to ticking. However, it seems due to other factors, time is of the essence. And the following possibility is what pains me the most: what if I turn 35 and I decide, yes. I’m ready for a child emotionally and financially and it’s the right decision for us. Why waste those 5+ years for my potential child to miss out on time with his/her father and grandparents? But it’s impossible to predict that so I try not to focus on that scenario too much.
A clock is ticking — but it’s not my uterus.
Millennial Mindset: The Horror of Current-Day
I’ve been told by some, no one ever truly feels ready or prepared or like everything is in place to either decide to have a baby or even as it’s literally making its screaming way out into the world. But then everything “clicks” and you find a way to make it all work.
I think it’s an enormous load of bullshit. This one, I’m not falling for.
When you “find a way to make it work” I think that means: the child doesn’t go shelter-less, food-less, or clothing-less. Basic necessities are provided. Stir some unconditional love into the mix and “things fall into place”.
No thank you. I don’t want to merely “make it work”. I don’t want my partnership with my husband to suffer due to financial strain, which it absolutely will if we are not financially prepared for a child. Financially prepared? That’s changed too (although I’m sure some boomers would oppose me). Look at the cost of purchasing a home, going to college, and infant/toddler childcare now relative to the salaries of present-day 20-somethings coming out of college in entry-level positions, salaries of the average 30-something beyond entry-level, and inflation vs. 30+ years ago. Financially preparing oneself for a child has taken on new meaning. I refuse to rest on things “falling into place” and risk them falling into a million shattered pieces.
I won’t go much into this, but I’m also terrified of raising a child in our current America (should this horrifying political climate resurface again down the road), the social media age, the bullying era…it’s all scary and far from fixing. But I figure if I truly decide to have a child, these issues will feel more manageable.
The Modern Woman and Lifestyle Considerations
I find, for myself, these often go in hand in hand. The personal evolutions of women and our present-day revolution (as I perceive it) has painted the world and our opportunities in a novel and progressive way. And millennials, in particular, are fortunate enough to have the ultimate exposure to and understanding of what this new world has to offer the new woman.
I love that I have choices. I love that I can write a blog mulling over my decision to have a baby and that it was never a given that I would have that baby. I love that I can travel and eat and drink out regularly and aimlessly wander the winding grid-less streets of downtown NYC and walk to Brooklyn to happy hour on a rooftop and go to a show or go to a seminar or go to a concert. I love that I can work to earn a living and volunteer to give back to my community and protest to have my voice heard. I love the freedom and the flexibility and the opportunity both this time in history offers me and the particular city I reside in offers me.
I’m not saying I’d have to give it all up. But, undoubtedly, I’d need to make some major lifestyle changes and sacrifices. For financial reasons, yes. And to accommodate for this new life I’d be raising and introducing to the world.
And that’s okay! It makes sense. I would hope few people deliberately try for a baby without considering these significant shifts. But do I want to make these sacrifices now or ever? Do I want to be more career-driven and make that my focus while affording myself a lifestyle that includes travel, eating, drinking and investing in real estate? Sounds lovely. And so far it’s been great. But will it continue to be as fulfilling as it is now? Will I regret having a child and sacrificing the life I once had? Will I grow unsatisfied with the lack of responsibility and yearn for more? Will I despise having so much responsibility? TBD.
Avoiding the Noise
Because of my age and certain expectations that come along with it and because of the diversity of the city I’ve chosen as home, I find myself regularly bombarded with overt signs and unwelcome opinions on Baby, Question Mark.
Just last night, I ran into a friend of a friend at a local bar who, without prompting, divulged the struggle surrounding his toddler’s sleep disorder, the stress the struggle has produced, and joked, “Don’t have children.” People make this joke to me often when they observe my responsibility-less (for the most part) life and the freedom that offers. I know — I assume — they’re kidding. But the comment always stops me in my tracks.
But if I take a leisurely stroll around my neighborhood (which feels like the epicenter of the child- and dog-having family world), I’m exposed to a snapshot of dozens of different families. And in this brief snapshot, their lives seem wonderful. They have the opportunity to show their children our world while simultaneously exploring that world through their own new lens of their child.
This stroll is usually followed by a return to my building and snagging a spot on our rooftop where last week, I ran into another friend of a friend. He and his girlfriend approached myself and my husband, drinks in their hands, drunken Sunday grins on their faces. My husband mentioned we recently visited a friend who moved to the suburbs which elicited a, “ugh, don’t do it!” from these practically strangers. We were quick to agree with them and immediately I felt like I’d just entered a pact as we all, with eye contact alone, acknowledged the good fortune of our collective childless lifestyles.
I’m sure I have many years ahead of me before I feel the noise is beginning to quiet. And I’m sure my upcoming 30s will be overflowing with more…
“You’d be such a great mom.”
“Your life is amazing — a kid would ruin it.”
“Don’t you want to have a child who will take care of you when you’re old?”
“Never leave New York City. You’d be miserable in the suburbs.”
“Having a child is overwhelming, but everyone figures it out. You make it work.”
“Don’t have kids. I haven’t slept in 3 years and I’m broke.”
“You may feel like you need more some day.”
Eliminating the Question Mark
I joke with my friends who are respectfully eager to know my baby plan (technically our baby plan — my husband is very much a part of the decision but ultimately we’ve decided it is my decision) that if I tell them how I feel about it at a certain moment, my opinion will likely change 5 minutes later. Whether based on some observation or thought I’d shelved that resurfaced, my feelings about the topic are not only confusing but wildly inconsistent.
I do feel that writing about this has helped me organize my thoughts and highlighted my biggest concerns — some of which are reasonable and some of which are not. I’m certain I have a lot more thinking and writing and feeling to do before I feel settled on the right decision. Until that time, the question mark is firmly in place…but I’m open to any and all insight, exclamation point.
