- In the past few years, I've gotten married, bought a house, and turned 30.
- It felt like having a baby was inevitable, but I'm still on the fence.
If you peek inside my notes app, you'll find an entry called "Names I Like" — a list of ideas for my hypothetical future children's names. Most women I know have a similar note on their phones.
Lately, this list feels less hypothetical. Within the past few years, I fell in love, got married, bought a house, started pursuing my dream career, and turned 30. Having a baby would be a natural next milestone for many people in my situation.
So why does the thought of it fill me with dread and uncertainty?
Becoming a parent someday seemed inevitable
Although I never felt like motherhood was my calling, part of me always assumed I would have children anyway. It's a cultural norm, and the majority of women do become mothers at some point. According to the Centers for Disease Control, 84.3% of women between the ages 40 and 49 have given birth at least once, and many others grow their families through adoption or surrogacy.
My evangelical upbringing further enforced that motherhood would be an important part of my identity as a woman. Most of the Christian girls I knew eagerly looked forward to that role, and I often felt alienated because I wasn't yearning to become a mom.
It wasn't until my late 20s that I got some distance from the insulated evangelical bubble of my youth and learned the term "child-free by choice."
While some choose to be child-free, I'm not ruling out any options yet
I was shocked when I discovered many people happily and confidently choose not to have kids. Their reasons for forgoing parenthood include having health issues, financial barriers, and concerns about the climate crisis and overpopulation. Some people are simply not interested in having and raising children.
But exploring child-free discourse hasn't convinced me not to have kids — it has instead given me a newfound sense of freedom and agency around the idea of parenthood. If we strip away cultural and familial expectations, what's left is me and my husband deciding what we want for our family and our future. And for now, we are both firmly undecided.
I'm still undecided about parenthood, and I've found others who are too
I don't feel drawn to motherhood, but I also don't exactly fit in with the child-free camp. Imagine my delight in stumbling upon the "fence-sitters" community on Reddit.
"To parent or not to parent. That is the question," the top banner reads. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief as I scrolled through recent posts. I found hundreds of personal stories and thoughts from both sides of the proverbial fence.
They ask questions I wonder about but haven't dared to ask: "What if I lose my identity to parenthood?" "Is it selfish to not want kids?" "What if I have kids and then resent them?" "What if I don't have kids and regret it?"
I feel seen and understood by these strangers, and more importantly, I feel normal for having questions and doubts about this life-altering decision.
My life will be fulfilling no matter which path I choose
One of my best friends has a toddler, and I recently became an auntie for the first time. Being around babies has prompted me and my husband to have more conversations about the future, but I don't feel so frantic about my uncertainty anymore. It's OK that we haven't made up our minds yet. No matter which path we ultimately go down, our lives will be rich and rewarding.
In the meantime, I'll keep adding to my name list, just in case. For the record, I like Walter for a boy and Willa for a girl.