Thoroughly enjoyed this piece and wanted to comment with a view of the flip side! I am 47 this year and currently 33 weeks pregnant with my 3rd child thanks to the miracles of assisted reproductive technology (my other two are 26 and 24). I met my current (childless) partner late in life (he's 49).
I 'skipped' the biological clock pressure due to having kids young, but boy have I faced a full frontal assault at daring to have enter motherhood again in my late 40's! If people had issue with the fact that IVF has been affordable for me (which I am both acutely conscious of and incredibly grateful for), I would understand, but instead the sentiment has consistently been around how selfish and irresponsible I am, or how 'greedy' it is when I am already a mother. There's a palpable, pervading sense that I should accept biological inevitability (even if I don't have to) and leave motherhood to younger women. As you brilliantly surmise Laura, we just can't get away from women's wombs as a free-for-all topic for discussion, no matter where the hands are on the clock!
I am 40, and I don't have children, out of choice. The reasons have shifted and waxed over the years but mainly because I never really felt I could give children the whole of me, the mental space to commit to just how much I'd want to love them or care for them. Later in life my own physical health also became a barrier. I am now at an age where the question has changed- not - 'are you going to have kids' but, head cocked to one side, sad face on... 'oh, you don't have kids.... why?' I invariably make something up - oh, it never really happened for us / I have animals / oh, I'm too old now / etc - but it infuriates me that the implication is 'you must be so sad it didn't happen and/or abnormal, you don't know what you're missing'. You're right! I don't know what I'm missing. And yes, I may have made an excellent mother, thank you for telling me, but also... What if, actually, I am allowed to not feel guilty about the decisions I've made and enjoy my life for what it is? My nieces, nephews and my friends' children are amazing and I love them dearly. (That's the other one I roll out to the questioner. E.g. it's OK, I'm not missing out, I have children in my life...) However, I'd love to be able to love the life I have without being pressured to be sad about it.
Loved this whole piece, Laura. Your note on regret really hit home for me. In relation to something entirely different but thank you for that nugget. I love your writing and can't wait for your book! Thank you.
There seems to be some kind of permanently baked-in compulsion in our social evolution that requires people to give uninvited advice about having children. I suppose it's hereditary: admonishing mothers, grandmothers and aunts through the ages have gotten their genes passed down, as have the compliant young women who gave in and had children even if they weren't keen (plenty of women can't wait to have babies.) These days, this intrusiveness is perhaps appropriate for monarchs relying on heirs, but seems massively discourteous in any other setting. (Why is this so hard for some people?)
In some ways the decision isn't worth worrying about too much because it's impossible to know what you missed by making the "other" choice. No one can imagine what having children is like until they have their own. From the standpoint of my own filter of childlessness, I can imagine some parents envying the financial and temporal freedom I enjoy in my life. Yet that imagined envy will always be severely limited by my ignorance of the joys of parenting and the precious relationships possible with one's own children.
I am a mother and this side-taking persists: women who “work” and women who “don’t.” One day I was listening to my mentor at the law office explain to me why once you stop you can never “get back in the game” (the trick of pressuring with fake urgency is a weapon employed by both sides) and I just had this realization: wow I’ll never get a straight answer. There isn’t one. Everybody’s gotta defend her choice. Once I understood that, I could hear the chatter for what it is—noise to mitigate the cognitive dissonance. There are many ways to have a full and rich life. The trick is you see the beauty of it now. Fear of future regret is a spectral demon.
Love this nuanced view and clear perspective - I can feel your angst for your own personal decision while generating a searing analysis to chew on as we reflect on our own situations. I myself went through much indecision and questioning which tended more towards the 'why have them' vs the 'why not have them'. As it turns out, we did eventually try for them (my husband was more in the 'let's have them' camp) but it never happened. I really do love my life and I relish forging a path in the world that doesn't follow the standard trajectory. I don't (and never have) ache to have my own children but I also wonder if I'm missing out, there are times when I actively feel left out and there are times when I feel judged. Fair enough! It's all part of being sentient, complex beings in this challenging world.
I share your frustration with people irresponsibly promoting motherhood as something wonderful. I had a child when I was 24 (that is perfectly normal where I came from, actually most of my female friends had their children by that age). I do not think I have ever properly enjoyed motherhood. It was a relentlessly hard work and a source of personal growth (you find out that you can survive many unpleasant things you have not thought possible). Have I regretted my choice to become a mother? Yes, numerous times. Do I love my now grown up child blindly and endlessly? Absolutely, I would do almost anything for her. Would I recommend motherhood as experience? No sure, to be honest.
One thing I would certainly say - having your_own_child (as in biologically) is greatly overrated. I am almost sure I could have had the same experiences (positive and negative) with an adopted child. So all this talk about closing biological window is nonsense - parenthood is more of a social phenomenon in our age rather than a biological necessity. Literally nothing would happen to me if my genes are not passed to the next generation.
As a 48-year-old woman, I hope not to be one of those older women imparting my motherhood choices to others (considering whether I am doing that here now). But I only wish I had Claire Underwood's epicness at my disposal when I faced repeated questions about my reproductive choices in my 30s.
I am conscious of not picking sides, as I have a 28-year-old but couldn't have more children (I have no regrets about that now), and so I have inhabited both spaces mentally, emotionally, and physically, as well as the griefscape within them.
I have deconstructed and reconstructed myself as a woman within the architectural frameworks implied and imposed on me by societal scaffolding that continues to support the foundations of ingrained generational gendered collectives that define women and motherhood.
I tore them down on my terms to rebuild myself and construct my context outside many socially driven constructs.
Having lost most of my womb at 34, I now gracefully understand that my womb was worth far more to me than bearing children. Trust me, in my brutalist, direct, satirical nature. I did not spare intrusive inquirers of my maternal intentions nor the gory details of why and how that happened in intricate detail.
The fairy tales of motherhood represented a nightmare for me. It caused some to choke on their salad and, in that space, others to reconsider passing it to me again silently and without commentary on my maternal inclinations or intentions.
Basically, I had to teach many over my biological life span, men included, to mind their own business, as my womb was not for speculation, commentary, and stereotyping.
Thanks as always, Laura for sharing your thoughts as always with such nuance and grace. All of it was beautifully articulated and narrated.
You handled this topic with nuance and grace. Deciding to have a child is a huge commitment and I strongly believe no one should be criticized for whatever decision they make. My wife and I have three grown children, one grandchild, and another on the way. We're happy, but neither we nor anyone else can compare lives as they are with the counterfactual of our lives if different decisions had been made.
You expressed that concept very well in the sentences below.
"We look at our life as it is now and think ‘I have the capacity to handle what might have come if I had taken the other route’. We forget that we developed that capacity based on the choices we did make, and not the ones we didn’t."
Thoroughly enjoyed this piece and wanted to comment with a view of the flip side! I am 47 this year and currently 33 weeks pregnant with my 3rd child thanks to the miracles of assisted reproductive technology (my other two are 26 and 24). I met my current (childless) partner late in life (he's 49).
I 'skipped' the biological clock pressure due to having kids young, but boy have I faced a full frontal assault at daring to have enter motherhood again in my late 40's! If people had issue with the fact that IVF has been affordable for me (which I am both acutely conscious of and incredibly grateful for), I would understand, but instead the sentiment has consistently been around how selfish and irresponsible I am, or how 'greedy' it is when I am already a mother. There's a palpable, pervading sense that I should accept biological inevitability (even if I don't have to) and leave motherhood to younger women. As you brilliantly surmise Laura, we just can't get away from women's wombs as a free-for-all topic for discussion, no matter where the hands are on the clock!
I am 40, and I don't have children, out of choice. The reasons have shifted and waxed over the years but mainly because I never really felt I could give children the whole of me, the mental space to commit to just how much I'd want to love them or care for them. Later in life my own physical health also became a barrier. I am now at an age where the question has changed- not - 'are you going to have kids' but, head cocked to one side, sad face on... 'oh, you don't have kids.... why?' I invariably make something up - oh, it never really happened for us / I have animals / oh, I'm too old now / etc - but it infuriates me that the implication is 'you must be so sad it didn't happen and/or abnormal, you don't know what you're missing'. You're right! I don't know what I'm missing. And yes, I may have made an excellent mother, thank you for telling me, but also... What if, actually, I am allowed to not feel guilty about the decisions I've made and enjoy my life for what it is? My nieces, nephews and my friends' children are amazing and I love them dearly. (That's the other one I roll out to the questioner. E.g. it's OK, I'm not missing out, I have children in my life...) However, I'd love to be able to love the life I have without being pressured to be sad about it.
Loved this whole piece, Laura. Your note on regret really hit home for me. In relation to something entirely different but thank you for that nugget. I love your writing and can't wait for your book! Thank you.
There seems to be some kind of permanently baked-in compulsion in our social evolution that requires people to give uninvited advice about having children. I suppose it's hereditary: admonishing mothers, grandmothers and aunts through the ages have gotten their genes passed down, as have the compliant young women who gave in and had children even if they weren't keen (plenty of women can't wait to have babies.) These days, this intrusiveness is perhaps appropriate for monarchs relying on heirs, but seems massively discourteous in any other setting. (Why is this so hard for some people?)
In some ways the decision isn't worth worrying about too much because it's impossible to know what you missed by making the "other" choice. No one can imagine what having children is like until they have their own. From the standpoint of my own filter of childlessness, I can imagine some parents envying the financial and temporal freedom I enjoy in my life. Yet that imagined envy will always be severely limited by my ignorance of the joys of parenting and the precious relationships possible with one's own children.
I am a mother and this side-taking persists: women who “work” and women who “don’t.” One day I was listening to my mentor at the law office explain to me why once you stop you can never “get back in the game” (the trick of pressuring with fake urgency is a weapon employed by both sides) and I just had this realization: wow I’ll never get a straight answer. There isn’t one. Everybody’s gotta defend her choice. Once I understood that, I could hear the chatter for what it is—noise to mitigate the cognitive dissonance. There are many ways to have a full and rich life. The trick is you see the beauty of it now. Fear of future regret is a spectral demon.
Love this nuanced view and clear perspective - I can feel your angst for your own personal decision while generating a searing analysis to chew on as we reflect on our own situations. I myself went through much indecision and questioning which tended more towards the 'why have them' vs the 'why not have them'. As it turns out, we did eventually try for them (my husband was more in the 'let's have them' camp) but it never happened. I really do love my life and I relish forging a path in the world that doesn't follow the standard trajectory. I don't (and never have) ache to have my own children but I also wonder if I'm missing out, there are times when I actively feel left out and there are times when I feel judged. Fair enough! It's all part of being sentient, complex beings in this challenging world.
I share your frustration with people irresponsibly promoting motherhood as something wonderful. I had a child when I was 24 (that is perfectly normal where I came from, actually most of my female friends had their children by that age). I do not think I have ever properly enjoyed motherhood. It was a relentlessly hard work and a source of personal growth (you find out that you can survive many unpleasant things you have not thought possible). Have I regretted my choice to become a mother? Yes, numerous times. Do I love my now grown up child blindly and endlessly? Absolutely, I would do almost anything for her. Would I recommend motherhood as experience? No sure, to be honest.
One thing I would certainly say - having your_own_child (as in biologically) is greatly overrated. I am almost sure I could have had the same experiences (positive and negative) with an adopted child. So all this talk about closing biological window is nonsense - parenthood is more of a social phenomenon in our age rather than a biological necessity. Literally nothing would happen to me if my genes are not passed to the next generation.
As a 48-year-old woman, I hope not to be one of those older women imparting my motherhood choices to others (considering whether I am doing that here now). But I only wish I had Claire Underwood's epicness at my disposal when I faced repeated questions about my reproductive choices in my 30s.
I am conscious of not picking sides, as I have a 28-year-old but couldn't have more children (I have no regrets about that now), and so I have inhabited both spaces mentally, emotionally, and physically, as well as the griefscape within them.
I have deconstructed and reconstructed myself as a woman within the architectural frameworks implied and imposed on me by societal scaffolding that continues to support the foundations of ingrained generational gendered collectives that define women and motherhood.
I tore them down on my terms to rebuild myself and construct my context outside many socially driven constructs.
Having lost most of my womb at 34, I now gracefully understand that my womb was worth far more to me than bearing children. Trust me, in my brutalist, direct, satirical nature. I did not spare intrusive inquirers of my maternal intentions nor the gory details of why and how that happened in intricate detail.
The fairy tales of motherhood represented a nightmare for me. It caused some to choke on their salad and, in that space, others to reconsider passing it to me again silently and without commentary on my maternal inclinations or intentions.
Basically, I had to teach many over my biological life span, men included, to mind their own business, as my womb was not for speculation, commentary, and stereotyping.
Thanks as always, Laura for sharing your thoughts as always with such nuance and grace. All of it was beautifully articulated and narrated.
Laura,
You handled this topic with nuance and grace. Deciding to have a child is a huge commitment and I strongly believe no one should be criticized for whatever decision they make. My wife and I have three grown children, one grandchild, and another on the way. We're happy, but neither we nor anyone else can compare lives as they are with the counterfactual of our lives if different decisions had been made.
You expressed that concept very well in the sentences below.
"We look at our life as it is now and think ‘I have the capacity to handle what might have come if I had taken the other route’. We forget that we developed that capacity based on the choices we did make, and not the ones we didn’t."