The Motherhood Question

A Blog for the Unsure

“I’ve always known that I want to be a mother,” my dear friend murmured into the night on the eve of another friend’s mid-30s bachelorette, a recipe for shaken-up emotions and close confidences. “It’s not something I can explain, really. It’s something I feel deeply inside.”

I stared at the ceiling of the room where we lay on side-by-side twin mattresses, my stomach dancing a now-familiar jig of envy and fear. I did not know whether I wanted to be a mother myself, and years of asking myself the question in increasingly demanding tones had gotten me no closer to knowing.       

“Nope, not for me,” another dear friend told me months later over a shared-plate meal at a trendy Chicago restaurant—the kind of restaurant with packed tables and delicate glasses that repel families with kids by design. “I like dogs,” she added. As if that completed the thought. And for her, it did.

Through years of conversations like these, I began to think that I was the only one. Others seemed sure where they stood on parenthood—firmly in the yes camp or firmly in the no camp. Many had known for as long as they could remember. Did they all know themselves better than me?

Worse was the subtle societal message that I should know. That message said: every child deserves a parent who is sure. If I wasn’t sure, I shouldn’t be a parent.

Fearing judgment, I spent years keeping most of my feelings about motherhood to myself. It seemed better to say I didn’t want a baby rather than let others see the messy, complex, hard-to-define reality.

When I did start to open up about my uncertainty, the responses were well-meaning, but many of them hurt.

Some tried to talk me into it, focusing on their own positive experiences of parenthood. I learned that parenthood was right for these friends, but not that it was right for me. Others told me I’d come around eventually, implying that everyone does.

On the flip side, those in the “no” camp built a case of their own. They focused on the freedoms of not being a parent. The money saved. Plus, they never liked babies. Or they always knew they wanted dogs instead of babies. Neither was true for me.

I have no doubt that all of these folks were trying to help. But they also seemed uncomfortable with my lack of clarity.

For seventeen years with my husband David, the question loomed large. I work hard to avoid irreversible regrets. Moving cities, changing careers, choosing a house—all of these choices can be unwound. But there’s no undoing a baby.

I ultimately decided to try to become a mother, and after a somewhat rocky road (including miscarriage and IVF), I now have a one-year-old daughter. But I didn’t make this decision because I felt it was inevitable or the “right” thing to do. I entered into motherhood still uncertain.

As I explored the question—all the while feeling the pressure of years passing and hearing too much about my biological clock—I found it rare to find someone else at a time and place in life where they could acknowledge not being sure what they wanted. Or someone who could sit comfortably with another person who is unsure. But I did find bright lights in the darkness—others who have plumbed their souls around life’s biggest questions and know that sometimes the answers evade us. (Both friends mentioned above sat with me beautifully in my doubts, despite their own convictions.)

I’m writing this for you—those perpetually unsure about parenthood and others who think and feel deeply about the question—in the hopes that you will feel less alone.

In this blog, I will write about my journey with The Motherhood Question, focusing on a different aspect of that journey each week. I will also interview others who have taken a thoughtful approach to the question.

Join the conversation: If you have ever been unsure about parenthood, I am interested in hearing about your journey. What reactions have others had when you talk about not being sure? What responses have you most appreciated?