I imagine this is going to be quite personal.
But let’s face it, all of my posts are.
For me, it’s a pleasure to be radically transparent - showcasing my inner world as a human being who wants to live free from shame for things which are, well, human.
Maybe in the future I will write a post about why I write about the things I do. For now, let’s get back to the main subject…
To have kids, or not to have kids?
That is the question …
that I feel motivated to talk about right now.
Oh boy. Big exhale. This could be a long post, I imagine. Am I really ready to share this story with you tonight?
Maybe. Probably not. So I’ll try to distill it down to the most important points I want to share with you today. Buckle up, this might get messy.
For a long time, I didn’t want to have kids.
If my period was a few days late, I’d panic in consternation. Getting pregnant unexpectedly was one of my biggest fears. I even had an abortion at the age of 19 to stop myself from becoming a parent at that time.
And yet, now I have climbed over the 30 hill. I’ll be 32 this year. And six months ago (today) I met the love of my life and entered what I judge to be the healthiest romantic relationship I’ve ever had.
There has never been a better time in my life to get pregnant and have a baby.
As a woman, it’s also an instinct and a calling - I notice babies everywhere and have the strong desire to mother, nurture and nourish someone.
For a long time I convinced myself I didn’t really want kids - that I could give birth to an important work project that would fulfill me in the same way having kids might.
And while that might be the case for some women (or even future me), it doesn’t feel so true right now.
A lot of the personal development work I’ve down over the past 4-5 years - including yoga, meditation, Radical Honesty practice, therapy, shadow work, body work, coaching, and energetic healing - has, as Stefan would say, made me more me, without all the inherited, harmful bullshit we tend to get from society and previous generations.
Or to put a long story short: I’m in a place right now where I imagine that I can parent better than my parents parented me, and their parents parented them. And maybe pass on a little less bullshit to the next generation, and a little more love.
I know I can love and accept my kids fiercer than my grandparents could love and accept their children.
I know I can teach better self-care, and boundaries, to my kids than my mother taught me.
And right here I want to fully recognize what a good job my parents, and grandparents DID do - I imagine they did their best under difficult circumstances.
Regardless of how good or shitty of a job our parents did raising us, I still think it is every generation’s responsibility to work on healing trauma passed down from previous generations.
I believe that’s not just my task, or my family's, but all of humanity’s.
For the sake of our future children, for the sake of the world they’re going to live in.
(I’m getting off track)
So what I’m saying is, maybe it’s okay for me to have children. Maybe I can allow that to myself.
Both of my parents told me to ‘never have children’. Really nice, I know. My mother battled mental health issues all my life - the story in our family was even that having two children so close together (me and my brother) is what triggered her bipolar disorder. So I somehow adopted the belief that to become a mother is to lose your sanity, or at least, sometimes, your ability to function.
Note: I’m not saying people who have bipolar are crazy. This is just the story I’ve told myself about my mother, growing up.
So anyway, some might agree with the idea that becoming a mom means losing your sanity. And I can perfectly understand it. To love another being that much is scary, and must, to a certain extent, drive a person mad.
But I also want to believe that two people can come together - going consciously into partnership - and create a family which is nourishing, peaceful and kind. Not a situation to make you lose your mind.
Granted, there will probably be some times when I do lose my mind after I have kids. I hope, with my partner and community’s help, I can come back to my senses, which for me means being grounded in the present moment.
My great dream is that it’s possible - and that I can - raise my child or children without losing my inner peace - and maybe even pass some on to them. A sense that they are fully accepted and loved, exactly as they are. The childhood too many of us were missing.
Last week, my partner Stefan and I took part in a Radical Honesty couples retreat in Finland. And there I had a thought that went something like this:
If him and I are just two little people
on this Earth, with billions of other people
and the love that we feel for each other is THIS BIG
(it feels enormous - I feel enormous)
if our love can be so huge, so expansive -
then imagine how much love there must be in the world,
in the universe
more than I can possibly fathom.
That’s a whole lot of love -
some might even say
everything is love.
Later we did a silent walking meditation through the forest. Our guide asked us to stop and find a tree, and spend a few moments with it. With this question on my mind, I though I might look for a young, baby tree. But the tree that I found myself standing in front of was an old, ancient looking pine, with infinite branches reaching outwards and a tall trunk stretching upwards towards the sun. I faced the tree with my question. And the answer seemed to radiate back to me, as if the tree was speaking it directly:
“Well, it was never a question for me, if I should have children or not.”
In other words: trees don’t think about having offspring, they just do.
In the same way, what could be more natural, or more inherent for me (and for all of us humans) than having children?
And so this felt like the answer to my question.
Upon returning home to Linz, Stefan and I continued to discuss the topic (which we’ve discussed for months). And another question came to my mind:
How can two people who love each other as much as we do not have children?
For all the reasons I mentioned above, plus more which I imagine you can relate to, I’m truly terrified of having a child.
And at the same time, there’s some joy and warmth and lightness that takes over my body when I allow myself to contemplate the possibility. And even more when I imagine surrendering to it, giving myself over to the love and the challenge and pain and absolute joy of it - and the possibility of being able to say someday that I had kids and loved every minute of it (okay, maybe not every minute, but you get my point right?) That I would do it again in a heartbeat.
I like letting those two seemingly opposite states coexist together - fear and absolute delight - and hold the dichotomy.
Anyway, I hope you liked this story.
What comes up in you as you read this?
Are you also contemplating having children?
Or did you already have some? How do you feel about that?
What’s up for you around this subject?
Will you like this post and share something about you in the comments?
Signing off (and probably going to take care of my chin hairs),
Chelsea
Thank you for this post, Chelsea. We are changing and also change our mind, thats fine. Having a baby is a big decision and it is very inspiring to read your hesitation, argumentation, pro and con.
I am not 100 % sure but as the things today look, I (woman, 30+, married) do not want to have children. As you wrote above, I am surrounded by mothers and fathers who lost so many things after becoming parents and this frightens me. They lost their financial stability, their hobbies, the interest on anything but the kids. They live in chaos. They are tired. They have only a little children-free time, stopped being lovers and as it seems, they do not mind it. It appears to me losing their sanity. This comment might offend some people who have kids, so please mind, this is my experence. These are my freinds and I cannot name any good example. What I want to say, I do not want to give up my "me" and my life I work so hard on. The life offers so much joy even without being a mother.