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Why do I have children?
That question popped in my head a few months ago. It wasn’t a moment of amnesia or regret, simply an acknowledgment that I hadn’t processed the real meat of this life decision despite having two kids already. I suddenly felt like a traveler who has hopped on a train only to ask, “Now, where is this thing going?”
Of course, I knew at some level why I have children, and were you to ask me in casual conversation, I would have said that I always wanted to have kids and love families.
Children haven’t required a lot of justification, at least traditionally. The biological necessity to continue the species and the fact that children are a hallmark of married life generally prove to be satisfactory explanations.
Norms change, however. Public discourse is flush with reasons not to have children. Climate change, the state of the world, and the cost of living all get equal air time. According to PEW and other sources, the more simple answer as to why people don’t want children is “they just don’t want to.”
The “don’t want to” reasons could include fears, such as fears of the unknown, fear of losing or changing lifestyles and being tied down, fear of not doing a good job, etc. Not to mention there are other noble pursuits worth chasing in life, some of which require a great deal of time. Women undoubtedly have the biggest tradeoff, as even working mothers still provide a majority of the household labor and child care.
While all of this is true, so often the conversation around having kids is framed in terms of what one will lose. For this article, I want to focus on what one will gain.
We’re not very good about discussing the positives of children, as a society, even as the conversation around children receives substantial cultural and political air-time.
Consider J.D. Vance, who said in a recent interview: “It’s just a basic fact – you look at Kamala Harris, Pete Buttigieg, AOC – the entire future of the Democrats is controlled by people without children. How does it make any sense that we’ve turned our country over to people who don’t really have a direct stake in it?” Vance also called Kamala and others “childless cat ladies.”
Behind this blatant misogyny, his statement contains a potential truth, namely that having children gives you a stake in the future. This sentiment is also shared by others, including two left-wing researchers, Anastasia Berg and Rachel Wiseman, who recently wrote a book, What Are Children For?: On Ambivalence and Choice.
They appeared on Plain English, the podcast from Derek Thompson of The Atlantic. When asked, "What is the positive case for having children?” they answered:
“I think the positive argument for having kids we lay out is to say that we think most people are already committed to the goodness of a human future. And that is because if we consider the kind of goals and commitments and projects that people are already committed to, for most people they presuppose the possibility of a human future. So if you're thinking of a political activist on the left, you know, when being asked about children, they might express a lot of ambivalence. But in the very commitment of political project that extends into the far future and their attempts to build a better and more just society, they are committed to a robust human future.”
Is this the calculus having children has come down to? I’m not saying the good of society isn’t part of why someone might want kids, but I don’t find it a compelling argument. Situating child-rearing within a “stake” in society feels impersonal, as if having children were merely a social duty. It comes across like Pascal’s wager, a fundamentally sound proof that does little to capture the pathos of the decision.
At the end of the day, the choice to have kids remains incredibly personal. Perhaps it’s the most personal of any decision one can make, more anxiety-ridden and potentially life-altering than marriage, schooling, careers, or where to live.
As I make my case for children, I’m going to try and avoid talking about the qualities of children, such as how delightful, funny, and innocent they are. All of these are true, and while I think many people would agree that children are special, that doesn’t necessarily mean they want children of their own. My list isn’t scientific or based in the latest studies. It’s simply the personal reasons I want(ed) children.
Long-Term Fulfillment
In making the choice to have kids, it’s helpful to look 5, 10, even 50 years down the road to consider what life will be like. The future I want always revolves around time with family.
The acknowledgment of long-term fulfillment helps me weather the chaos of the newborn and toddler stages. More hard stages are still ahead—if other parents are to be believed, it sounds like every stage of raising kids comes with unique stresses and inconveniences. So far, the enjoyment trumps the stress by a long-shot.
This is not to say that a child is a pawn in the game of maximizing happiness. Having a kid is no guarantee of a meaningful, lasting relationship. Like any risk-adjusted decision, the kind we all make repeatedly throughout our life, I’m hopeful that I’ll be up for the challenge of developing strong connections with my children that will be mutually rewarding.
A Cure Against Stagnancy
My wife and I were married for about five years before we had children. We knew we wanted kids at some point, but when was always the question. After COVID hit, we found ourselves with so much free time it was almost laughable. Outside working hours, I got to focus just on my hobbies. I wrote like crazy, played the guitar, exercised, and watched a lot of shows. I even spent about two weeks playing Fortnite for hours after work. It was (kind of) awesome.
Had life continued in this fashion, it would be a great life. I can’t say it would fulfill me, however. Even as my skills increased—a promotion at work, drastic improvement on the guitar, even writing my mission memoir—I never truly felt like I was getting anywhere. The sum of these parts didn’t fill the cup of the potential I thought I had as a person.
How then to grow? The irony is that when you only focus on yourself, you don’t grow as fast as when you’re focused on others. This is true for marriage, isn’t it? Having to make decisions that impact another changes your outlook. Kids are no different. They require an endless supply of energy and patience. I’m sometimes mentally fatigued on a level I didn’t know was possible.
Just as having children is no guarantee of future connection with that child, kids do not guarantee the growth or virtues one might seek. You hope to grow into the patience and kindness it requires. Some days are better than others.
Though my hobbies took a hit with kids, they mean more to me now. I’ve taken each to levels I hadn’t before kids, such as running and biking longer distances, starting this newsletter, etc. Limitations on time can increase our output.
The Joy of Family
Growing up in a happy family is probably the most fortunate thing that ever happened to me. Being part of my family was simply fun. Even the annoyances—the long car rides stuffed in a minivan, the bickering, the competitiveness—make for good memories now.
And the good times were great. All of us sitting around the dinner table, playing FIFA in the basement with my brothers, backpacking trips with my dad, coming home from school and eating a cookie in the kitchen with my mom while talking about my day.
My wife and I dream of recreating the same environment that brought us incredible joy. I imagine those who didn’t have the best childhood but still saw models of happy families may want to attempt to create the dynamics they witnessed.
Creating a Future with Mickelle
Related to this joy of family is the feeling that having children is an extension of the love Mickelle and I feel toward each other. By having kids together, there’s an unspoken trust. You believe the other person will share the joys and challenges with you and feel secure enough in your relationship with each other to undergo the child-rearing experiment.
Of course, having kids means you also have much less one-on-one time with each other. You sacrifice the simplicity of that relationship with the hopes that by creating a family, your love and affection for each other will increase.
Witnessing the Joy of Life
One of the greatest joys of fatherhood is watching your child experience life.
A parent has the unique pleasure of witnessing that wonder of life unfold throughout childhood. It starts much earlier than expected with curious glances around the room and wandering hands reaching for anything to feel.
I’m shocked when I hear someone say, “I wouldn’t bring a child into this miserable existence,” or some version of that. Life is not without its challenges, and for some they can become too much. I can only speak from personal experience to say that life is so rich, why wouldn’t I want to give someone else a chance at it?
A Religious View
It would be intellectually dishonest to pretend religion has nothing to do with my desire for children. Yet the effect of religion in my life is two fold, namely cultural and doctrinal.
Is there a cultural pressure to have kids in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Absolutely, though you don’t hear as much rhetoric from the Church about having children as you did in the past. Having children is not requisite to being a member of my Church nor to receiving all that God promises.
More than the cultural forces of my religious community, the Church’s unique doctrine about family has had a greater impact on my desire for children.
Latter-day Saints view the family as a sacred, organizing structure to eternity. Meaning, we believe that God our omnipotent Father has a partner, our omnipotent Mother, and that we are the children of these divine parents. Furthermore, we believe our families can be together for eternity, organized into husband and wife and children, a great chain of families extending from the first man down to the last.
It is this fundamental understanding of heaven that drives our church toward a strong emphasis on family. And for me personally, it’s the end goal of what I want from my life. I want to live with my wife and kids forever, I don’t want it to end at death. This is my conviction, and the desire for children stems from this cosmology.
The Great Gamble
It wasn’t clear to me when I started writing this just how many factors in the case for children rely on what could be. As I mentioned before, my childhood was as good as it gets, with supportive, committed parents and best friends for siblings. Yet every family, every child, is different. I’m two kids and a few years into this journey with decades still to go.
Every decision in life is a gamble. There are no guarantees. Deciding not to have children, a deliberate choice itself, gambles that life in old age will be as satisfying and purpose-filled as life post-college. It’s a gamble that other priorities will bring short and long-term fulfillment.
I do believe our intentions and decisions matter a great deal, even more than the outcome. Having kids is a decision based in the hope and faith of a rich life of familial connection. I’m glad to have laid down my chips.