The Kids Question, Part I

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in her 30s must be asked the kids question. Does she want them or not? Does she want to have them herself or adopt? Does she want to have kids alone, if the man of her dreams does not appear in a timely fashion?

I’m happy to say that a single woman in her 30s in New York City today has many more options - and less pressure - than she might have somewhere else or in a past era. But no matter who you are, your circumstances, your sexuality, your career situation - no mater what, you are expected to have an opinion and an answer.

Most people still want a single woman in her 30s to want kids, maybe subconsciously more so than explicitly nowadays. The question is almost always asked with some amount of expectation. And the person asking is almost always someone with children, trying to pull her over the line.

I myself have swung wildly, back and forth for the last decade, on the kids question. I froze my eggs just before the pandemic because I wanted to kick the can down the road on the answer. At that time, I wasn’t sure what the future would bring in terms of potential fathers but I knew I wasn’t ready to let time decide on its own. I wanted some degree of agency in the situation. Freezing my eggs definitely gave me that small sense of control that would have slipped through my fingers during the pandemic if I hadn’t. I am immensely grateful for the opportunity that not every woman has, and I am glad I did it, especially before the pandemic.

The biggest changes to my thinking around kids happened through watching those I am close to raise their own. I am privileged to have wonderful friends with supportive partners who have opted to have kids in the face of an increasingly volatile world, and they are doing a marvelous job. I get to play auntie to many great little ones. I’ve seen and heard how hard it is to raise young children, though, for all of them. Even the ones with good partners and engaged families and money to throw at any problems that arise. I’ve also seen how a mediocre partner can put an immense burden on the mother, leaving everything about raising their child on her plate.

I’m lucky. I have the benefit of watching these relationships and parenting styles unfold, and learning at least a bit from their baptisms by fire. I never experienced this true parenting responsibility until last summer, when I babysat my nephew for almost a week. His parents were in and out, caring for their newborn in the hospital, and I was on toddler duty. I got quality time with him, and he is truly one of my favorite humans on the entire planet (by a long shot). It was a privilege to get that special time with him.

But I was exhausted at the end. I wasn’t working while I was with him, and I was going to sleep not long after he was each night. I dropped him off at preschool for many of the days we were together and enjoyed his nap time by also napping. But wow - I barely survived a week (with help!) and was excited to return home to my own bed and sleep in on Saturday morning.

That was when I realized I did not want to have kids alone. I am too selfish to be a single mom. I am too tired. I have nothing but profound respect for the women who have always wanted to be mothers, who felt the call. That was never me, though. Without a solid partner who I love and care about leading the kids charge, I don’t think I’m going to become a mom.

The question isn’t completely settled - hence Part I - but that’s my thinking now. It’s not too late - my body is not out of the child bearing years quite yet. And those eggs are happily sitting on ice. But unless this dad-to-be shows up soon, I am actually happy to be building the life I have right now. One that is whole and complete without kids. One that still includes my nephews and other little ones who are not my own. A life where I still get to sleep in on Saturday mornings.