…that is, and will always be, the question, unless something drastically changes in this world.

Disclaimer: please note that all opinions in this article are my own.

Of two things I am quite certain:

1. I am almost 37 years old and my chances of having biological children are getting slimmer year by year.
2. I don’t really care.

I have never been someone who has envisioned what it would be like to be pregnant or be a mother. In fact, the more I think about pregnancy, the more I believe it’s not something I wish to put my body through. We all know it’s always been expected for women to marry (preferably, according to many) and bear children, but modern feminism is fighting that expectation, and rightly so. Not all of us want to be mothers, and not all of us should be mothers. Fortunately, I have been lucky enough to grow up without the expectation or pressure. Maybe it’s because I have siblings who have taken on, or wish to take on, the responsibility of continuing to grow the family tree (thanks guys!), maybe it’s because I’ve been enjoying my independence as a singleton so nobody has thought to ask me why I’m childless, but in general I’ve always been left to my own devices. Still, that hasn’t stopped me from asking myself THAT question:

Do I want to have children someday?

The answer is, I think, both yes and no.

Let’s start with the ‘No’.

First of all, my feelings, as they currently stand (and have been gearing towards for many years), are that I do not wish to add to the population of the world in its current state without a clear future for them and less worry for their safety, not just because of countries and leaders constantly at each others throats and killing millions of innocent people, but the way in which we treat our planet and the increase in global warming. I don’t want to be part of forcing these problems onto another generation. I do believe younger generations are working hard to rectify the mistakes of their ignorant elders, but I don’t see too much change happening within my lifetime. If we want to see positive change, we need to be an example of goodness to children. I’m not saying we need to be perfect all the time; it’s just as important that they see that humans are flawed and that adults make mistakes too, and it’s important that they understand why and how to acknowledge mistakes and do better.

Second, I would not like to raise a child (or children) alone. I do not currently have a partner, and although I’m open to it, I don’t see myself being ready or in the right position, financially or emotionally, to take on the responsibility quite yet. I think these are all things that can come with hard work and time, and if I am lucky enough to get these things, then the above stipulation regarding the state of the world would be the next decider.

Third, terrible post-partum care. Too many countries that call themselves “first-world” have piss-poor maternity care. That’s not even mentioning the lack of maternity PTO – you’re apparently very lucky if you get 12 months (with most of that unpaid) but even that is disgraceful. A lot of countries will kick you out of the hospital within 24 hours of giving birth. Why? Because hospitals are understaffed and underfunded, at least in the UK as described in this recent article from the Guardian, but I’d be surprised if it wasn’t the case elsewhere, too. I would fear for both my mental and physical health without medical and emotional support.

Fourth, male-centric governments do not care, either enough or at all, about women. UK maternity care is in a crisis itself. Louise Thompson, former star of Made in Chelsea who has a strong social media presence and has been vocal about her own horrific experience during and after having her little boy, co-created a campaign to appoint a Maternity Commissioner to improve maternity care for mums and babies, including starting a petition for this to be debated in UK parliament “alongside a National Maternity Strategy to ensure mums and their babies were safe and looked after with professionalism and compassion.” The petition was answered by the government in January, and their response amounted to this:

The Government will shortly be launching a National Maternity and Neonatal Taskforce, chaired by the Secretary of State. The taskforce will take forward the recommendations of the investigation to develop a new national action plan to drive improvements across maternity and neonatal care. The taskforce will also hold the system to account for improving outcomes and experiences for women and babies.

…but ultimately:

[…] the Government does not currently plan to appoint a Maternity Commissioner at this time.

Disappointing. You can read more about the effects of this in an article written by Frances Hand, a DPhil Candidate in the University of Oxford’s Faculty of Law, titled What Louise Thompson’s campaign tells us about the national maternity crisis.

As an example of how postpartum care is an international issue, South Korea has recently been trending for its postpartum facilities where you can spend two or three weeks recuperating with help called 조리원, a juriwon. Staff essentially take care of the baby while you convalesce and you can learn how to take care of your baby. Sounds ideal, right? Well sure, if you can afford it – depending on the facility, pricing can range from upwards of 2 million Korean won (about £1000 as of writing) to upwards of 17 million won (approximately £8,600). They are extremely popular, but less well-off women shouldn’t be priced out. There are also some facilities that don’t allow babies to stay in the same room as their mothers, which doesn’t sound good for mother-baby bonding. A juriwon is a terrific idea, but it needs to be more accessible and understanding toward mothers needing to be with their babies. There was also an issue recently in South Korea where a woman in her 20s was in labour but was refused care from seven – SEVEN – hospitals due to lack of staff and beds, so she ended up giving birth in the ambulance. This is from a country with one of the lowest birth rates in the world. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

On top of all of this, further issues include the expense of raising even just one child, the difficulty of getting a house, inflation and the cost-of-living crisis, a lack of jobs, lack of prospects. The list goes on, and there are just so many factors to consider that previous generations did not have to worry about so much.

Overall, birth rates are declining across the world, partly for the above reasons I’m sure, and it could indeed have some consequences for the human race, but more women are standing up for our rights to be treated fairly, by our governments and by men in general. We shouldn’t have to give up everything to have children. We should have stable partners with which to have children, meaning men who see us equals and can respect us enough to communicate without anger or illiciting fear (speaking from a female-identifying heterosexual perspective); I also support people who want to go it alone or people who are members of the LGBT community wishing to start families, as long as they too have the right support in place. It’s an ongoing fight, but if history has taught us anything, we can and we will win our rights.

Ok, that’s a lot of reasons for me to say NO to children, but there is one way in which I can see myself having children in the future, and possibly the only way I’ll ever say ‘Yes’: adoption and/or fostering.

I love kids. I have a niece and nephew (and probably more coming) that I adore and am growing ever tired of not seeing grow up because I live so far away. I’m also a teacher, and I have loved so many children that I have taught. It’s not always been easy (lawwwwwd knows), but I absolutely think the pros outweigh the cons of having children in one’s life. Vice versa, the pros of a child having adults/an adult that can give them a safe, loving, supportive and nurturing environment to grow up in is paramount not only for their wellbeing (in both childhood and adulthood), but for the future of this world. How many children are there in the world that do not have this kind of environment, or anything even close to it? I would rather put my love, support and energy into those who are here and in need than bring my own into the current world.

Should we continue to procreate? I’m not here to tell you if you should or shouldn’t, but I felt like I needed to air my personal view and current feelings. I am also like to say ‘never say never’. Perhaps I’ll change my mind one day, for one reason or many. Even if I do happen to end up reproducing (geriatric mother ahoy!), I would hope that I would still offer a home to a child or children in need.