I started writing an article a couple of weeks ago about how you can still be hopeful about having kids despite knowing how critical the climate situation is. However, once I started putting pen to paper, I realised perhaps what I was writing wasn’t how I felt anymore.
Is having kids really for me?
I had become so invested in the idea of being a mum, I had given up my career in architecture – partly because I couldn’t see it being compatible with motherhood. I had thought about doing a new degree in counselling but held off, because I suspected we might move back to the UK once we had a baby, and there was no point starting a course in Australia. Whilst my husband had never really shared my enthusiasm about being a parent, he wasn’t enthusiastic about not having them either. Despite me being so convinced this was our destiny, my husband and I had held off starting to try to conceive, firstly due to Covid, then because we wanted to buy a property, then health issues put a stop to it, and more recently because we’ve planned a trip back to the UK.
Putting off having a baby until the right time
It’s been two years since we initially thought we’d start trying but maybe now we won’t. Aside from the ocassional wobble, until now I’d always been dead set on our plan, we just had to wait patiently for the right time. In some ways, having this plan was exciting, but in other ways it detracted from my life here in Sydney, causing me to miss opportunities and maybe give off a non-available vibe. Having so much time waiting, gave me the opportunity to do lots of research about the realities of parenthood. I noticed the common problems encountered by other new parents in the same situation as us – living in an apartment (who’s got $1.5 million or more for a first house?) on the other side of the world from family support. Our fears were confirmed, and so we decided to be proactive. Once we had our future baby, we would limit these challenges by moving back to the UK and buy a house close to our parents.
But making this decision in advance, came with it’s own problems. Once we’d planned to move back in a year or two, I kind of wanted to get on with it now, as being in Sydney had started to feel a bit like being on a long holiday that had gone on too long. It started to feel like my life would start when we started our family and moved back to the UK. I had fantasized about being an earth-mother type, making cakes with a cute little girl in the kitchen, growing our own veggies and making art together. I’d fallen in love with a fantasy. On reflection, this fantasy had provided me with an escape during lockdown, as I wrestled with lack of direction, loneliness, homesickness and guilt at not being closer to my parents in the UK.
Time for doubts to creep in
At the same time, being child-free and working part time in a stress-free job, meant I had more time to read and learn new things. The two areas I seem to have gravitated towards have been spirituality and the environment. As I became more entrenched in my earth-mother fantasy, I was simultaneously becoming more knowledgeable about climate change. Recently, I came to a point where for the first time, I couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling that there might be something wrong with bringing a child into such a potentially dangerous world. Please read my previous blog if you’re not sure what I mean by this.
At first, I started to find ways of reconciling what I’d discovered with bringing a new child into the world. You know – maybe it won’t be as bad as all the scientists are saying, maybe they’ll get 30 good years before it affects us in Australia or the UK. Perhaps they won’t be too badly affected when they learn how our environment is in irreversible decline.
But the seeds of doubt had been planted. Recently, after a few drinks on a bright sunny day in the city with my husband that I suddenly realised I didn’t want to move back to the UK – not yet anyway. Which left us with the issue of raising a child in our nice, but compact two bedroom Sydney apartment. Since we both work from home a fair amount, this would be problematic as the office would need to be the child’s bedroom eventually. It’s OK we told ourselves, we can rent a house if we need to. Or move somewhere else that’s cheaper.
Aside from the housing issue, I couldn’t hide from the fact that I’ve only just figured out what I want to do with my career and am just starting out with both my art and writing. I tried to convince myself I could work on both of these whilst looking after a baby. I’d give up my disability support job and rely on Luke’s income to support us and pay for childcare until I started to make some money. But I couldn’t help wondering if this was just wishful thinking.
Climate change could make an already difficult situation even harder
It was during a period of being home alone for a few days that I suddenly realised how many sacrifices we’d be making by having a baby, how none of the external factors were in our favour and how the effects of climate change might just make existing challenges even harder. My initial internal response to these doubts was, ‘but it’ll be worth it. KIds give your life meaning and purpose, and it means you’ll never be alone.’
To allay my fears, I recalled all the mothers I’ve known who always end their rants about how hard it is with, ‘but he/she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us. It’s 100% worth it.’
It was only when I started reading some of the online forums where parents anonymously reveal their regret at having children, about how hard it is and how little you get back in return, that I started to seriously question my decision to imminently start trying for a baby. One of the common themes seemed to be how the experience of parenthood varied so greatly. The main reason for dissatisfaction with parenthood seemed to be those parents who have difficult children – those with serious health issues, behavioral problems, and/or a disability. This combined with their level of financial security, and how strong their relationship is with their partner has a big effect on their experience. Even the parents who say they regretted it, mostly all say they still love their children, but that the pros don’t outweigh the cons.
I’m completely aware that I shouldn’t base our decision on whether to have a baby or not on anonymous posts on an online forum. Having said that, there is something to be said for actually hearing from people who have been parents themselves – and not just those who had neurotypical, healthy, well-behaved children. Because there is no way of knowing what child you’re going to get. The fact that twins who share the same genetics, and had the same upbringing but have completely different personalities demonstrates this.
Following your heart might not be the right thing to do in this case
You might say that fear shouldn’t stop you following your heart. But what if that fear is rational, and is trying to tell us something?
As women, we don’t have much chance to listen to that voice. And sometimes we can confuse following our heart with following society. We’re constantly inundated with reasons to have kids. All our friends are doing it, and even in this day and age not wanting kids is looked down on by our society. Even when everything seems to be nudging you in the direction of not having kids, the constant reminder that you’ll get left behind when all your friends start families, that your life will lack meaning and purpose if you don’t, conspire to make us conform to the norm. It’s no surprise that so many people have kids who shouldn’t, and there’s so many people with issues related to their childhood.
For me and my husband, I think we actually would make good parents. It’s the external factors – inadequate housing, finances and support combined with the physical and psychological effects of climate change which will inevitably make it more difficult to give our child the best start in life.
I do believe that a child can provide meaning and purpose for people. However, if the circumstances aren’t right, but you go ahead anyway just to fill a hole, then this is also a selfish choice. Admittedly, it’s a better reason than doing it to fix a failing marriage, or because it’s just what people do, but the motivation is still about you, rather than what you can give them.
Reimagining my future without kids
Having spent my whole life assuming I would be a mother for the rest of my life, it’s definitely been challenging to reimagine how the rest of my life would look like without them. I know how important it is to have meaning and purpose, I’ve seen what can happen to people who don’t – depression, loneliness, addiction and even suicide.
However, my investigations into spirituality have led me to see that it is possible to have meaning in life just by virtue of being alive. As humans, we are infused with the Source itself and it is our ultimate destiny to live from this place of connection. Regular meditation and contemplation is necessary to unlock this potential within ourselves. Again, this is possible to do whilst being a mother – in fact being a mother and giving yourself to another can also be seen as spiritual work.
On the other hand, being a mother can make it hard to find time for meditation and contemplation, and so many parents become fused to their new identity they no longer go within to discover who they really are. This is especially true in our modern western civilization where one or two parents do all the work or bringing up their child, unlike in the past where ‘a whole village raised a child.’ After work, and other commitments are met, there is just no time for meditation and contemplation, unless perhaps for an hour or so during a church service while the kids are in Sunday school. But even then, they’re probably so exhausted they fall asleep!
Meaning and purpose can be found in our external world through caring for another, but it can also be found within. Eckhart Tolle suggests this is your primary purpose. But rather than focussing on one or the other, it is when both the inner and outer life are in alignment that we truly live the spiritual path. I happen to believe that this is the purpose of life, and so I guess it makes not having kids easier because I can focus on growing my own spirituality.
In fact, I have started to see how in the absence of having children, we free ourselves up to helping others outside our family unit. When we are consumed with caring for children, we’re less likely to volunteer, or mentor others unless we have lots of help and free time. Not having children can also give us more financial resources to help others – whether donating to a charity or those struggling in the local community.
How we spend the next 20 years matters more than ever
I think as people start waking up to the climate crisis, they will begin to realise how significant the next 20 years are going to be. Regardless of whether we make all the necessary changes to reduce CO2 or not, things in the future will be very different. How different, depends largely on how we collectively spend these next years. Do we spent it as a frazzled mess resenting our choice? Or do we spend it in joy, service and gratitude – whether in parenthood or childfree?
If all you’ve ever wanted is to be a parent, and you can’t imagine your life without children then you should definitely have them if you’re in the right circumstances. But right now, those who aren’t sure, or who have been swept along in the fantasy of what parenthood will be like, or are scared about being alone when old, or searching for meaning in their lives, should consider NOT having them. We simply can’t afford to bring more souls into the world for the wrong reasons at this point in history. The children that will go forward into the unchartered territory of our future will need to be resilient and have open hearts. They stand much more chance of this if they’re loved and cherished unconditionally, rather than being resented. Similarly, we need adults who are themselves fufilled and so able to be of service to others and our planet.
Some have said those who are concerned about climate change should be having kids so at least they’ll educate them in sustainability. I’m inclined to disagree. Fear about climate change will only increase once you have a child, as you worry more about how you can protect them. Children will pick up on this fear, and fear is the root of many of the problems we have in our world today.
Letting go of the fantasy
After years of fantasising about being a mother, and realising that what I was attached to was the image of motherhood rather than the reality, it’s hard to imagine a new future that isn’t overshadowed by the child that we never had. It is this expectation that causes so much unhappiness whether we choose to have kids or not. If people have kids, studies have shown that happiness levels decrease. This is partly due to the expectation of happiness, when in fact there are many losses which make parents less happy – freedom, finances, time, energy and sleep to name a few. But they also gain a lot; meaning and purpose, companionship and most importantly they realise what love they are capable of.
In some ways, moving beyond your thirties is very hard because you either had kids and lost your freedom, or you didn’t have them and lost the experience of parenthood. Either way there is a loss. I think it’s normal to feel some grief around this decision. But it becomes problematic when it lingers on; they either feel like they lost their life when they had kids, or they forever feel their life is lacking because they didn’t have them. As I discovered by living in fantasy-land for so long, when you reject reality because you want something else or to be somewhere else rather than accepting what is, you give out negative energy into the world, when what’s needed is the opposite.
I believe so many people above the age of 35 live under one of these shadows, and I don’t want to be one of them.
How to move beyond regret?
Firstly, like many of the problems our world is facing, I believe this is a spiritual issue. Firstly, people need to spend time to get to know themselves and figure out what they really want, not what their parents, friends or society wants. Secondly, once an informed decision has been made, there has to be a letting go and a trust that the path you decide is the right one for you.
It can be scary to imagine a life without kids, but also to imagine a life with them! I myself have worried about being the odd one out by not having one. Luckily, I do have a couple of friends who I know aren’t planning on it either. I guess in some ways, I have found it easier to come to this decision because of my spirituality. I know that my life has meaning regardless of my status as a mother. I can also re-frame my life as one in which I have the freedom and the space to work on my spiritual, mental and physical well-being.
As someone who has suffered with anxiety in the past, I know how important good mental and spiritual health is if I’m going to be of service in the world. I’m aware that I could be fine as a mother, but given the extra stressors we’re likely to see more of, it’s a risk I’m not sure I’m willing to take. What I know for sure, is rather than being selfish and hedonistic, I intend to spend my life helping myself, others and the environment as best I can. Whether that be through caring for people with disabilities, writing meaningful and informative articles, making beautiful art, enjoying nature or simply being there for friends and family when they need a listening ear.
So how do I feel now I’m leaning more towards being childfree?
It’s a mixture of relief and loss. I no longer feel as frantic about having to figure out my career before a baby arrives, or trying to figure out our housing situation. Instead there is a feeling of spaciousness, to travel, to learn and work on my career at my leisure. We don’t have to suddenly move back to the UK even though we love living here, like we were planning to before. I feel a weight off my shoulders in terms of climate change – I no longer have to worry about the suffering this will cause my future child. I no longer have to worry about whether our mental health will be able to withstand the stress of parenthood in an increasingly dangerous world.
On the other hand, I have to say goodbye to the image I had spent years painting in my mind, of tucking my little boy or girl into bed, and kissing them goodnight, or decorating the Christmas tree together, or being at the front row of their wedding. Who knows, maybe I’ll look back at this blog in the future, having had a child and I’ll think how silly I was getting so worried about it all.
Part of me wishes this will be the case, but the realist in me tells me that it’s more likely to be the other way round. Unless of course by magic there’s immediate global action which changes our current trajectory. As things stand, I can’t see how this will happen in time. It’s true that if it was just the other problems we’d likely try for a baby – housing, finances, career and support can all be adapted to or improved in time. When I’ve chatted to friends about this issue, they’ve often said things like ‘women have always had babies, even in war zones.’ But unlike a war, or famine which usually comes to an end, and is limited to a geographical area, climate change is global and there’s no end in sight. If anything, it will likely get worse over the course of this century. So ultimately, this is why I’m choosing not to become a parent.
