The Baby Decision

by Merle Bombardieri

  Flexibility

  People who can roll with the punches are usually freer to make a decision because they can either live with the consequences or rethink the decision. Of course, the baby decision is different because once you have a baby or a vasectomy you can’t rethink the decision quite so easily. But, despite these limitations, it is still possible for a flexible person to make healthy adjustments to a less-than-perfect decision.

  Suppose you have a child and discover, too late, that you’ve made the wrong choice. If the decision was made responsibly, you had some positive feelings about nurturing that you can somehow boost. You don’t owe your child the perfect childhood; it wouldn’t prepare him or her for our imperfect world anyway. You just owe the child love, respect, attention, and discipline. Note what you like and love about your child, and focus on that. Parenting groups and professional counselors could help you feel more at ease about parenting. You might also enjoy your child more if you made some changes in your life. If you were home full-time, perhaps returning to work would help ease your boredom and resentment. If you were working full-time, switching to a part-time schedule might make you feel less overburdened.

  Similarly, even when you are too old for pregnancy, you could get creative in changing your parenthood status. For instance, you could adopt a child or do foster care. And, of course, there are dozens of ways to enjoy children without having your own.

  Flexibility is particularly important in the decision-making process itself. According to Gail Sheehy, in our twenties we tend to do what we think we should do; in our thirties we do what we want to do, and in our forties, we question whatever we’ve done. The point is, as your life changes, your attitudes and feelings about children will change, so it’s vital to be as flexible and open as possible about the baby decision. Don’t take any drastic steps that could preclude a later change of heart. For instance, if you’re in your twenties or early thirties, you might give yourself some time before electing a sterilization procedure.

  Mortality

  Birth and death are inextricably linked. It is not unusual for a pregnancy to occur within months of the death of a beloved family member. Whether or not we are conscious of this, it is a way to replace our loved one, assuring the continuity of generations. Many people think of their children as a passport to immortality—the means through which we imagine we could live on after we die.

  Psychoanalysts believe that we can’t tolerate the idea that we will die one day. They think we unconsciously take actions or tell ourselves stories that shield us from this reality.

  In addition, there are other ways to defend ourselves against death. According to Yale University psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton in Boundaries: Psychological Man in Revolution, four other paths to immortality exist besides parenthood:

  Theological immortality—a belief in an afterlife and the spiritual conquest of death.

  Creative immortality—a legacy of creative work or social change that will outlast us and impact future generations.

  Natural immortality—a feeling of “being survived by nature itself, the sense one will live on in natural elements, limitless in space and time.”

  Psychic immortality—the achievement, through meditation or other mystical experiences, of a feeling of oneness with the universe, a feeling that transcends death.

  Now consider all four sources above, as well as Lifton’s fifth mode—biological immortality through parenthood. What combination of modes resonate with you? Do you consider children necessary passports to immortality? How might having a child hinder you on other paths to immortality?

  Although some couples choose parenthood as a way of coping with fear of death, others see the very same fear as a major impetus for delaying the decision. Having children, or even thinking about having them, reminds us that there will soon be creatures in this world who will outlive us. In fact, I believe that some of the anxiety about the age thirty-five fertility time bomb is sometimes displaced anxiety about the end-of-life time bomb. The certain ticking of the death clock is much more frightening than the uncertain ticking of the birth clock. Also it’s easier to think about the cutoff we’ll survive than the one we won’t. By avoiding the issue altogether, we can pretend that we’re not getting older.

  However, we can only live fully if we accept the fact that we are going to die. As Lifton and others point out, when we repress the reality of our death we also repress our humanity. Thus, by coming to terms with the baby question, your life will be richer whatever you decide because you will have had the courage to accept aging and death. Everyone’s happiness depends on taking the actions that will bring the most meaning and satisfaction. It becomes more obvious that procrastination is a thief when we realize that we have to work within the limits of our mortality.

  Mission

  In Hasidism and Modern Man, Martin Buber wrote, “Every person born into this world represents something new, something that never existed before, something original and unique. . . . Every man’s foremost task is the actualization of his unique, unprecedented, and never recurring potentialities. . . .”

  What is your goal or goals? Do you want to become president of your company, a political leader, a successful artist, a social activist? Or do you want to focus your energies on human relationships, spiritual development, personal growth, or simply enjoying being alive? As you think about your mission and how the question of children relates to it, keep the following issues in mind:

  1.Your mission can be your means to happiness. If you find a meaningful purpose and devote yourself to it, typically happiness will result.

  2.Your chosen mission could change. It’s possible to be totally committed to political change, career goals, or art for the next ten years and then to commit yourself totally to parenthood for the following ten years. You have to ask yourself whether you would feel any sense of mission in parenthood. If the answer is no but you think you would enjoy parenthood, consider whether parenthood would prevent you from meeting your other goals.

  3.You may not have a strong sense of mission. It’s OK if you don’t. You can use this section as food for thought. Perhaps a sense of calling will come to you later in life, as it does to many midlife women after the nest empties and/or the career you have spent years on no longer holds the same excitement.

  4.It’s possible to have more than one mission. A childfree person might be equally committed to career goals and to social activism. A parent might be equally committed to a canvas in the studio and a child in the home. However, if you have too many goals, you won’t be able to fulfill any of them. Although two or even three goals are possible for some people, for others only one focus at a time is feasible.

  For some women, the decision to combine career and motherhood is a genuine decision to fulfill two missions. For others, the same choice is simply a way of creating so much “busy work” that they won’t have to face up to other goals that are somehow threatening. Abraham Maslow, in The Farther Reaches of Human Nature, coined the term “Jonah complex” to describe this “fear of one’s greatness.” He also defined it as the “evasion of one’s destiny,” or “running away from one’s own best talents.”

  Why should we fear our greatness? Maslow offers three reasons:

  Fear that others will envy us;

  Fear that we’ll be overpowered by ecstasy;

  Fear that we will be “punished” for daring to be great.

  Keep in mind that the word “greatness,” by Maslow’s definition, means recognizing what you care about and your motivation and potential to take action in light of this.

  You may also be reluctant to work toward your goals because you are:

  Afraid of failing

  Unwilling to make the sacrifices involved

  Afraid of success and change in your life. (Will your family and friends still love you? Will you ever have any free time?)

  As part of the decision-making process, you must consider whether your decision is influenced by a desire to esc
ape your destiny. Do you want to be a mother for its own sake or because you are avoiding something that might be more fulfilling but also scarier?

  When they made their baby decision, Kelly and Jason carefully considered her dedication to sculpture and his to political work. It sounded good on paper but a look at another piece of paper, their weekly calendar, showed very little time was actually devoted to her art or his politics. Jogging, Yoga lessons, Chinese cooking, spectator sports, and hanging out with friends all got in the way of their real work. They accuse themselves of laziness, but their real problem is fear. Anyone who can run so many miles and make it to so many classes on time isn’t lazy. Kelly and Jason are just plain scared.

  What if their friends envy or turn against them once they’re successful?

  What if they fail? People will laugh at them. If they don’t try, then they can’t fail.

  How would success change their lives, their relationship, the way they spend their spare time?

  How does parenthood or childfree living relate to your potential for greatness? Is parenthood actually your vehicle to greatness or would it seriously threaten your chances of achieving greatness? Or can it exist in tandem with your other goals? Consider talking to trusted friends and family members. Ask them about their sense of mission in their own lives. Ask them how they would guess that parenthood would aid or hinder what matters most to you.

  Solitude

  Solitude is an opportunity for contemplation, meditation, and self-discovery. It’s not the misery of being lonely but the bliss of being alone.

  Of all the components of happiness, the craving for solitude is the one that clashes most brutally with parenthood. It’s hard to hear the whispering of your inner voice over the wailing of a toddler. But ironically, some parents make better use of their limited opportunities for solitude than nonparents do. Parents tend to appreciate solitude in the rare moments they can find it. And they often exploit what I call “nighttime solitary confinement.” Believe it or not, children do sleep sometimes, especially at night. During those hours, some parents find they actually have more time for themselves than they did when they were childfree. Why? Because when they were childfree, they were never home. Now that children force them to be home and to be “on” most of the time, they treasure and savor silence when they get it (see the Bibliography for books on mindful pregnancy and parenting).

  If you crave solitude, are you getting enough even without children? Would you be happier in a career where you freelanced or worked by yourself most of the time? Do you need to say “no” to more social engagements and “yes” to more “self” engagements and time with your partner?

  If you’re leaning toward parenthood, how would you and your partner arrange for quiet time? Remember that the issue of solitude is not solely a function of whether children are present or babysitters are available. The nature of your work is also important. If you are a mother of one quiet twelve-year-old and/or work full-time in quiet surroundings, you may enjoy more solitude than a childfree pediatrician or sales executive. Although it is possible to find private time as a parent, it’s not easy, and if you require a great deal of solitude, consider that very carefully before having a child.

  Although many people enjoy solitude, you may be someone who does not. This is worth thinking about while you are trying to make the parenthood decision.

  Although solitude can be a peaceful vacation from our hectic, everyday lives, we often are afraid of quiet time alone. Many of us throw ourselves into an array of activities in a desperate attempt to avoid such self-exploration because we’re afraid of the feelings— anger, jealousy, fear, helplessness, unworthiness, those monsters that lurk in the attic.

  Discomfort with solitude can make it hard for you to carve out the reflective time that would facilitate your decision

  However, we can’t discover all of our positive strengths while we’re bottling up our negative emotions. We have to be comfortable enough with ourselves to let all kinds of feelings come bubbling up during the quiet times. Therapy can help you deal with this and be able to enjoy more peace of mind.

  Freedom

  We tend to think about freedom as if it were money—accepting without question that more is better. But, like money, how it is used is often more important than how much there is. In fact, social psychologist Eric Fromm in Escape from Freedom claimed that many people would prefer the oppression of totalitarianism to the anxiety that comes with freedom: anxiety about making choices and taking responsibility for them. That’s why so many couples who are anxious about the baby decision escape from their freedom of choice through an “accidental pregnancy” or what I call the “free drift.” There are other escape hatches as well. If you have a child because “everybody should become parents,” or remain childfree because “nobody (except saints) should become parents,” you’re not exercising freedom of choice; instead, you’re allowing absolutes to dictate your decision.

  Freedom and commitment are interrelated, and both are necessary in a fulfilling life. As part of the decision-making process, consider not only whether you want to commit yourself to a child, but to whom else or what else you would like to commit.

  Becoming a parent doesn’t necessarily mean giving up freedom; it often simply means exchanging one kind for another. Some parents claim that the activities they had to give up were empty in comparison to the fullness of life with children, which they describe as the freedom to experience a wonderful new relationship. In contrast, the childfree choice will give you more freedom in the abstract sense, but it will be an empty sort of freedom unless you make that choice because your life is full of something else. Nonparents can exercise their freedom by choosing life goals more suited to them than parenting. It is OK not to know what your mission is yet, but it is important to ask the question. Also, remember that you have just as much right to be ordinary as anyone else. You don’t have to make a big splash in the world to justify being childfree.

  Intimacy

  Whether you remain childfree or have a child, whether you are in a relationship or single, intimacy is an important part of life. You were not born in a vacuum, and you can’t grow in one either. Although popular psychology in the 1970s asserted that one has to choose between personal growth and caring relationships, in reality, growth often occurs in the context of such relationships. A healthy loved one encourages and supports your growth. Moreover, if you are too scared to get close to others, you will also be too scared to grow. People grow in relation to others, or they don’t grow at all. (See, for instance, Women’s Growth in Connection by Janet Surrey and other contributors from Wellesley College’s Stone Center in the Bibliography.)

  If you choose to remain childfree, you are not relinquishing your potential for growth and intimacy. You will have two precious commodities—time and energy—to nurture already flourishing relationships and build new ones. Nevertheless, don’t assume that your marriage or other relationships will stay exactly the same. They may deepen or change direction. You may even end some less-satisfying relationships and spend more time with friends whose company you enjoy. Such change is inevitable, and the important questions to consider are: How do I want these relationships to grow and change? and How do I want to grow and change within them? If this seems too abstract, ask yourself which friends you enjoy being with the most. Make your social plans accordingly.

  Parenthood, on the other hand, may wind up both fulfilling and frustrating your needs for intimacy. The early child-rearing years double your opportunities for commitment and caring, but more doesn’t necessarily mean better. Are you and your partner secure enough to share the spotlight with a baby? Will you resent the baby because he’s getting some of the attention that used to be showered on you? If you can’t make love at noon, will you still want to make love at midnight? If you and your partner are not as close as you’d like to be, are you hoping a baby will fill the gap? Don’t hold your breath. The stresses of parenthood could widen that gap.

&nb
sp; A Sense of Family and Community

  Regardless of whether you have children, you probably enjoy gatherings of people you like and care about. You may share these events with blood relatives, friends, or a combination of the two. You may also enjoy a sense of community in your town or neighborhood. A community isn’t always a physical place. For instance, you may participate in a networking group, a writers’ online forum, or a religious community.

  Keep in mind, that depending on your own ideal community involvement, your childfree or parenting status may interfere with or deepen that involvement. For instance, if you are spending several hours a week managing your town’s recycling program, having a child might mean giving up this activity or reducing it. On the other hand, if you are looking forward to working in a child’s preschool co-op and being a scout leader, parenting would connect you with these activities.

  Let’s look now at some different ways to experience intimate, family connections.

  It’s Thanksgiving Day at the Nelson household. Eric is carving the turkey while his wife Rhonda ties a giant bib around eight-month-old Tommy, who’s been weaned to table food in the nick of time for a taste of turkey. Other guests include Tommy’s older sister, age two, five of his cousins, two sets of aunts and uncles, and four grandparents.

  The Price home is just as crowded but with a different sort of family. Nick and Lilly, are childfree by choice. Nick’s law partner and best friend, Tony and his wife Amanda, have grown children on the other side of the continent. Lilly, who collaborates with Diana on art projects and who is divorced, brought along her twelve-year-old son, Mike. Mike is playing Ping-Pong with Devon, Tony and Amanda’s grandson who’s visiting from New York. This is the seventh year in a row that the same group of people has gotten together for Thanksgiving, a remarkable record considering that five of them live out-of-state.