My sorority sisters and I graduated college back around 2015, plus or minus a year. I don’t keep in contact with many of them but we all continue to follow each other on social media. Over the last 10 years we have seen each other post about our situation-ships, breakups, boyfriends, engagements, and marriage. It has been fun and endearing following them on their journeys, many of which are similar to my own. But this year there was a surge in a new milestone for them- pregnancy announcements. We are in our 30s, so it should not have been a surprise. As a matter of fact 47% of women give birth from the ages of 30-39. But for some reason my emotions surrounding the topic caught me off guard.

I am no stranger to new baby announcements. About 2-3yrs ago people I went to high school with started posting their own. But I never related to them back when I was 16 and I still do not relate to them today. They are simply different people on a different timeline than mine. On the other hand my sorority sisters and I shared many things- goals, backgrounds, ideals. We are all unique in our own ways but so similar in others. It’s why we came together in the first place. So seeing them enter this new phase in their lives made me question if I too should be following this path. I am 31, I am married, and the clock is ticking. But the problem is and always has been, I am unsure about children.

Growing up from the ages of 9-21, my mother drilled into my head the fear of teenage pregnancy. And after 11 years of this strict doctrine, even as an adult I perhaps have never released my anxieties over it. The thought of getting pregnant feels like an impending threat, both physically and emotionally. When you become a mother you leave all your own needs behind, your past priorities, your child free friends, hobbies, even your body. It is self sacrifice in the highest form possible, it’s a voluntary loss of your old self. And to many excited expectant mothers to be, that is absolutely okay with them. They yearn for this new life, this new chapter of motherhood. But I do not. Not a bone in my body is ready to leave current-me behind. Or at least, that is how I feel today.

My mother used to say I would change my mind about children as I got older. And some days I can see glimpses of it. When I see a cute baby tiktok video, when I think how fun the Target mommy and me dresses are, or when I think I could birth the next Obama. But all those thoughts are superficial. The cute baby moments are 10% of their lives, there’s a possibility the child won’t even like dresses, and the reality that to create the next great human you actually need to RAISE them to be great. You need to teach them about right and wrong, life and death, God and evil. What if you don’t do that correctly, what if they are not what you hoped they would be. And the most frightening piece of all, what if they are but they don’t get the chance to grow up. You can do everything correctly and still life might handicap them or worse completely rip them away from you for one reason or another. There are so many things to fear.

My husband has always wanted children, he said he wanted 7 when we first met. I never tricked him into anything though, I have repeated myself many times that children are not something I am keen to have. Especially 7, I am a woman not a rabbit. Although with time and circumstance I am more and more receptive to the idea of a couple children. I can see us with a mini him or a mini me. Chubby cheeks, curly hair, yapper. Probably too smart for his own good, I can imagine the parent teacher conferences already “ Blah Blah is a great kid but he won’t stop talking to everyone around him.” Obviously that would come from his father’s side since I hate talking to others. Or I imagine a little daddy’s girl, light skin like her father but looks exactly like me. My husband would be in love.

But as the years pass, I feel more convinced the pros outweigh the cons. I have seen too many statistics on children born with illnesses, women dying during labor, the amount of single parent households. I sometimes go over the lists in my head.

Pros: joyful family memories, someone I could pass my recipes to, the pride and privilege to raise a wonderful human being, my husband and family would be happy about it

Cons: delivery complications, long term health effects of pregnancy, death, loss of self, no personal space, worrying about someone 24/7, permanent changes to my body, single motherhood, inadvertently passing on trauma, etc. [insert the girl with the list’s list here]

I love my husband and my family, both his and mine. But they seem to have some sort of forced amnesia about what it was like being children and raising children. Both my parents and my husband’s mom grew up without a present father. My mom grew up without my grandmother for most of her adolescent and adult life. My husband and I do not plan on divorcing at any point but what is to say it won’t happen or that he or I won’t become unexpectedly widowed. Or take the current state of the world right now. My parents had a fine life before I came along, they were both professionals in their home country who made decent livings before uprooting their lives to a new country in search of better opportunities. Who is to say my husband and I won’t ever have to immigrate somewhere new and start our lives from nothing while also providing for children?

And of course there is the big topic of finances.

Financial stability does not only mean having sufficient food and shelter. Financial stability also encompasses one of the most valuable resources you could have- time. I think part of my apprehension towards having children is actually a bit of resentment. Resentment for the things I did not have as a child. My parents worked their a**es off but our circumstances were not enough. Material things aside I needed more time with them at home. I needed my mom to help me navigate adolescence, practice the cheer tryout routine with me, read lines for the high school play with me, but the time was scarcely there. She had to work and do everything she could to ensure my brother and I had better lives than she and my father did. Through no fault of her own, she had to make a choice on priorities. What if I find myself in the same financial position one day and have to make those difficult choices too? I don’t want my child to have to navigate life on their own.

When my family talks about me having children it feels sometimes like they are talking about a novelty. A child they can see and play with a few times a month, share pictures of on whatsapp and facebook. Heck, even when I talk about children they feel like dolls to play dress up with. In reality they are people whose whole being and future rely on not only my efforts and sacrifice but my ability to be there for them physically and emotionally, the state of the world, luck, and fate.

There is still a lot of past emotions for me to resolve, growth for me to go through, and current feelings to reconcile. For now I am sufficiently content on the sidelines watching my sorority sisters’ families grow. I am excited for them and wish them the absolute best on their diverging paths. Perhaps we will reconvene timelines at some point but right now, I am happy to follow my own.

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