Beyond the Fence: Embracing Uncertainty in the Journey to Parenthood (or Not)
and what does the Sims 4 have to do with it?!
“Do you have kids?” It’s a standard issue small talk question. Its social shorthand like your marital status, job and hometown. A quick way to sketch our your identity. It’s also a question that used to feel like a punch to the gut.
On social media, I’d see the stereotypes. There were the white picket fence parents, overflowing with love and fulfillment. Then there were the bright eyed childfree camp, their feeds brimming with exotic travel photos. I scrolled and wondered, what is their life really like behind their heavily curated grid?
Do you remember those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books? I was the kid that read every ending. It’s always eased my worries to prepare for any outcome. However, there were no maps to guide me on the journey to building my family. In fact, I wasn’t even sure where I wanted to end up. I started making some turns and held on for dear life.
Let’s talk about it.
The Path
I always assumed I'd have children. All the women I knew were mothers. It was hard to imagine another life. Here I am raising my Cabbage Patch daughters to be intelligent, well-read young women:
My twenties had a rocky start, but when I met my husband all the pieces fell into place. We married and bought a house. I graduated college. I was proud to be ticking off milestones, following an imaginary set of Adult Assembly Instructions. However, I dismissed questions about when I was having kids. The answer wasn’t no, just not right now. I dreamed of exploring ancient European castles or maybe seeking a graduate degree in history, not changing dirty diapers and warming bottles. Those dreams would come one day, I assumed, so I waited expectantly to be swept away with the desire for a child.
By 33, I had kicked that can down the road and would have been happy to continue doing so for another decade. However, life without kids was unfamiliar and even scary. I didn’t have the directions for that. There were only questions - who will take care of me when I get old? What will my in-laws do if they don’t have grandchildren? Is it time to grow up?
So we’ll have a kid, great.
Not so fast!, shouted the other side of my brain. Think of all that could go wrong! Birth defects, environmental collapse, they could grow up to be one of those kids that murders their parents in their sleep because they couldn't play video games. Maybe I need to stop watching true crime. Is it selfish to have a baby when there are so many children in need of homes? Is it selfish not to have a kid?
The Fork in the Road
An over-thinker, I knew I could ponder this question indefinitely. I pushed the thoughts away. In my mind, I was out of time. Piss or get off the pot, they say. And so the pissing began - onto ovulation test strips and pregnancy tests (a gem of a transition - we’ll keep it!). Just before my 34th birthday, I got a positive pregnancy test result, confirmed by several more. I stood at the top of the stairs wearing fleece snowman pajama pants and a Descendants tee that read "Thou Shall Not Commit Adulthood." My hands shook and I yelled to my husband. "I think I'm pregnant!"
It was great! We broke the news to my in-laws with Willow Tree figures from the Hallmark store. My father-in-law shook my husband's hand. My mother-in-law burst into happy tears. I joined online communities to share new symptoms. I traded my energy drinks for water and vitamins. One day I even allowed myself a trip down the baby clothes aisle, feeling like an imposter as I touched the soft fabric and thought of how it felt to cradle my baby nieces and nephews, the tiny bodies breathing softly under their cotton onesies.
Like anyone during an early pregnancy, I was anxious. I did totally normal things like checking a website that generates your statistical risk of miscarriage. On the way to my first OB/GYN appointment I was a nervous wreck. An hour later, the doctor confirmed my nightmare. I had miscarried. Finally safe in my car, still parked in the expecting mothers spot, I burst into tears. My biggest fear had come true. The grief was tremendous for the promise of a life that had flickered so quickly in and out of existence. It echoed my anxieties - could I handle the rollercoaster of parenthood?
My doctor assured me that this was sadly a common occurrence and there was no reason to think I would not get pregnant again. For the next several months, I fought my fears and kept trying. A fresh wave of grief crested over me with every negative test. The emotional toll was immense, especially considering my initial uncertainty. I made the decision to protect my mental health and to stop trying. I began the process of looking at what life could be like without biological children.
Exploring off the Beaten Path
It was the height of Covid-19 and like many folks, I distracted myself with relaxing role playing games like Animal Crossing and my perennial favorite, The Sims. After my miscarriage and decision to consider a life without biological children, I didn’t know if I could go back to the Sims. The idea of playing through a silly fantasy family storyline yet again triggered that old, cruel voice - I need to grow up, I need to always be doing something productive. I cringed at the thought that my love of The Sims could reflect repressed desires for a family of my own.
In the weeks that followed my miscarriage, I picked my old favorite game back up. I settled into a world of building pixel tree houses, pushing imaginary toddlers on swings and sent my Sim children to school with hand joystick packed lunches. At the time, I could barely stand to hear about anyones kids or go past the baby aisle in stores. Thinking back, I wonder if the exposure to these computer generated babies helped to lessen the sting.
As I shared my experience with others, I began to hear more candid experiences from parents. (It’s worth noting that my sister, a mother of 5, does not include children in her Sims game when she has time to play.) I heard from parents who told me the worries I’d experienced don’t go away when a child is born healthy or as they grow up. Older parents facing empty nests shared the loss of identity they faced once their children moved out. They harbored regrets for parenting decisions they made 30 years ago. At the same time, they told of the joy of watching their kids grow, pride in the people they became, and appreciation for the lessons learned. From these raw and honest conversations, I gained a better understanding of what parenthood really is. I am so grateful for the willingness of parents like these to engage in vulnerable conversations that add nuance to the discussion and decision.
The Destination
Reflecting on my own life without children, I likewise want to share a candid perspective. Sure, I can sleep in late and don’t have to worry about entertaining a baby on an airplane. Yet, there are definitely moments I imagine having a child would brighten. A big one is holidays. There is nothing as fun as seeing the unrestrained joy of a little kid on Christmas morning. There are so many childhood experiences I won’t get to relive through my own offspring, like the excitement of back to school shopping and dances. When my peers weekend conversation turns to swim lessons, sleepovers and soccer games, I struggle to relate.
However, when I reflect on my biggest fears, they no longer take up the same space in my mind. I have begun saving more diligently for retirement as I know I will not have children to fall back on (nor should they be the retirement plan). I realize that it’s crucial to pursue hobbies, find your community and build relationships across generations to stay connected as you get older. I create new traditions and goals. Chili every Christmas Eve while wrapping way too many presents for my family. I am constantly making new goals for myself - finding a mammoth tooth, visiting Thailand, finishing a novel.
Importantly, I’ve learned that you don’t have to be a caregiver at all. However, if it brings you fulfillment like it does for me, I find no shortage of targets for my love including an aging mother, husband, nieces and nephews and pets. I feel no lack of love or fulfillment in my life.
Neither path offers a guaranteed life of happiness and fulfillment, nor insulates you against loneliness and responsibility… but there’s only so much bandwidth you can devote to worries about regret. As more people chose not to have children, we’re overdue for more honest discussions about all kinds of family structures. How can we better support each other in creating the types of families we desire? I suggest starting with improving parental leave, increasing access for everyone to get the healthcare they require and vastly improving education around having or not having kids. Overall, it’s an incredibly personal decision for each individual and we all face challenges great and small on our way to defining our families. My ears remain open on how to support each other as I share the experience through my lens.
What do you think?
Did you alway know you did or didn’t want kids? What advice would you give to someone on the fence about having children? What challenges have you faced?
Till we meet again,
Gabriella
I echo everything that Lauren said. Kyle and I were on the fence forever, we had built such a fun life for ourselves and we didn't want to "ruin" it. What we have now with our little Rumi is not broken but it's definitely different from what we had before and I will grieve for that life forever. I have birth when I was 37 and Kyle was 44. We are a healthier generation than our parents were. A lot of milestones are pushed to later in life... we weren't sure if we wanted a kid but one day we were.
What I am grateful for is that as a culture we seem to be growing more and more open and aware that there is a much vaster number of choices and life paths than we previously thought.
My one piece of advice is to just take care of yourself and your relationship with your husband and out of that love, the best choice for YOU will emerge. You don't owe anybody an explanation.
I am so glad you finally started writing in public. 🥰🥰🥹
Gabriella, I commend you for sharing so vulnerably on such a tricky topic. You brought me to tears several times. Thank you for opening up a much needed conversation for our generation. I sometimes feel paralyzed with what decision to make-waking up in the middle of the night with racing thoughts about my future regrets. As I turn 36 this year, the pressure sits so heavy on my chest on whether to expand our family or not. I've never been 100% drawn to either camp, just painfully and awkwardly dangling on the fence looking in both directions and waiting for the "times-up" buzzer to ring. I'm grateful for this article and hearing your story. Your writing is beautiful, clever, and very enjoyable to read. 🩷 May we find peace and acceptance to whatever outcome awaits us. xx