When are you going to have kids?
The drafts of this have evolved over the past few years. I remember first opening up my notepad while living in Israel, exhausted by how openly and often the question was asked.
I’ve toned the language down a bit since then, I guess pregnancy has made me soft.
I opened my mom’s birthday card last month, and a clipping dated 2/4/1989 fell out. It was from The Chicago Tribune, and my dad had written at the top ‘Grandad Comiskey’ — indicating that his dad had initially shared it with him. The title is ‘The manifold joys of motherhood’, and the author was essentially making the argument for just that. The quote that stood out to me, “If the decision to have children was made on a purely intellectual basis, most rational people would reject the whole idea as preposterous.”
I want to be clear, I understand there is something much deeper going on here. That when baby girl arrives, that I’ll ‘get it,’ I’ll be a mom, and our lives will forever be changed. We are truly excited to meet her.
Yet I do feel like I need to move forward with writing this, for all those women who can’t, aren’t sure (which was me for a few years), or simply don’t want to.
Because it’s 2021. And not everyone wants babies.
Shortly after we got married, nearly 6 years ago now, the questions started.
So, when are the babies coming?
When will you guys be adding to the family?
At that point, it was easy to shrug it off as too soon. We wanted to enjoy wedded bliss, sleep, and very free schedules. Not to mention a ton of travel.
Man, who remembers traveling? What a throwback.
Our journey to finally feeling ‘ready’ took years. And I know, I know, you’re never truly ready. But it took us a while to finally look at the idea of giving up our time, (my) body, sleep, money, my affinity for margaritas — and to not give it a hard and fast, no, let’s wait.
I am thankful for my husband who endured many tearful conversations around the topic. Together we intensely debated, aired our biggest and smallest fears, our hopes and dreams. I’m thankful that we came to a decision together on the timing and intention, and even more that my body agreed to then do it — not before a few miscarriages. Which are normal, natural, and not talked about enough.
I always told Andrew that I felt the question was on par with someone asking me when I was going to adopt a cat, or purchase a house. But… I don’t like cats? What if I… just want to rent? What if I want to live out in a trailer in the middle of the desert?
Some of us physically cannot create babies, and that in itself is a painful, sensitive subject. Some will go on to try other ways, other options, and others won’t.
Some of us would rather have fur babies as kids.
Some of us would rather be the cool, fun aunt and uncles. Some of us might want to adopt, or foster, or volunteer. Or pursue ambitious, intense careers that might not allow for children to easily be in the picture. I could list the alternative scenarios at length.
All of the above are GREAT. All of the above are normal. And all of the above really shouldn’t be questioned — besides maybe our own Moms. 🙂
With that said, I’m going to write what I remember randomly typing into my phone about two summers ago, while sipping some rosé on our deck.
Can we please dropkick the archaic, presumptions question “When are you having kids?” off the face of this earth?
If you’re truly curious and the situation feels familiar and safe enough to bring up the topic, here are a few alternative phrasings:
“Do you have any plans for children?”
“Any interest in expanding the fam?”
“Are you considering procreating any time soon? I hear the cost of raising a human life ends up being around 1 million dollars.”
Just kidding on this last one… although that stat is supposedly true.
I’ll wrap up.
It was about two years ago when my dad said to me (probably in the midst of me bitching), “Kait, you guys just have to do what you want to do. You’ll know if and when you want kiddos, there’s no rush.”
It’s one of the last pieces of advice that I’ve savored from his brain, that at the time was riddled with Alzheimers & frequent confusion. I like to think it was a moment of absolute translucency and 100% my dad.
I hope this doesn’t read wrong, or comes off as if I’m some angry, hormonal preggo. Sometimes I am, but not as I write this. I do feel the need to protect those who flatout can’t, don’t want to, or who are trying… and that question just might have them on the brink of breaking down and crying.
Living a thriving, beautiful and full life can look like so many different things — and those painted pictures don’t have to involve tiny humans. It should be as simple as that.
