To be, or not to be...a parent

That is the question. And it's not an easy one to answer.

Last week, Call Her Daddy podcast host Alex Cooper managed to snag one of the biggest, newest stars as a guest: Chappell Roan. Even if you’re not chronically online like some of us (me), you’ve likely heard of her. She had a huge year last year, skyrocketing to fame, opening for Olivia Rodrigo on tour, and winning Best New Artist at the Grammys (and being nominated for five other awards, including Album of the Year and Song of the Year). Since essentially blowing up overnight, she’s become somewhat of a polarizing figure. She openly sings about her sexuality and calls out the media when they cross the line, which some see as a breath of fresh air and others find offensive. Either way, it’s clear that one thing we can count on from Chappell is her honesty, which is exactly what we got on Call Her Daddy.

On the podcast, Alex Cooper asks in her usual, surface-level way about Chappell’s love life. Chappell says she is seeing someone and no, it’s not casual, but she also doesn’t yet know about the future of the relationship. She expresses concern about whether or not it will even be legal for her to marry one day, given she’s gay. She then muses about whether or not she’ll have kids, saying:

“All of my friends who have kids are in hell. I don’t know anyone – I actually don’t know anyone who’s happy and has children at this age…four and under, five and under, I literally have not met anyone who is happy, anyone who has light in their eyes, anyone who has slept…”

Somewhat unsurprisingly, many parents – mothers in particular – are upset about this perspective and are taking to the internet to defend parenthood. As someone who is on the fence about kids, I’m a bit surprised by the reaction. My friends are only now starting to have kids, and for the most part, it looks a lot like Chappell described. They are tired. They love their children, but they are exhausted. Some even have severe postpartum depression, which has added a whole additional layer of exhaustion and overwhelm. I believe parents when they say they love their kids. I can see how fulfilling it would be to nurture a little soul and see the world anew through their eyes, but I can also understand how challenging it can be.

From where I sit, as a woman in the United States, parenthood looks like a pretty severe sacrifice. It’s true that I won’t really know the joys that come with having children unless I actually have children – I know I can’t possibly feel any of the big, wonderful emotions until I’m actually in it – but the stakes feel awfully high. I’ve seen TikToks like this one and Substack articles like this one that bear the brutal reality of the grief that can come with being a parent, the grief that comes with shifting into a new, more challenging chapter of life. Parents talk about missing their free time, missing their old lives, their old selves.

As a freelancer, I have a lot of time. Despite feeling drained by corporate, it took a long time for me to muster the courage to set out on my own. I love my schedule and am endlessly grateful for the freedom it brings me. It’s something I know I would miss – and likely mourn – if I were to become a mother. Though, if I’m honest, some part of me does feel parenting would make me more “legitimate,” like it would substantiate my deservedness to stay home. I have a wonderful husband who luckily doesn’t share my allergy to corporate America, yet there is a certain anxiety that comes with the ebbs and flows of freelancing. During a few of the ebbs I’ve felt guilty, like I’m not contributing to my household or my relationship because I’m not earning money, at least not the same amount as I used to. I’ve felt guilty about spending all this time at home and not having a child to show for it. It’s ironic, of course, considering how much shame and judgement surrounds stay-at-home motherhood, as if staying home and being the primary caregiver is somehow “easier” than working a nine-to-five. (It’s not, obviously.)

Parenting, whether you stay at home or not, isn’t easy – especially for mothers. I stumbled across a Pew Research study recently that highlights this reality. Out of the 3,757 parents surveyed, over half of mothers (66%) said parenting “is a lot or somewhat harder than they thought it would be,” compared to 55% of fathers. And although both find parenting tiring, mothers are more likely to say so (47%) compared to fathers (34%). They’re also more likely to feel judged, even by their own parents (47% vs. 38%) and other parents in their community (41% vs. 27%). And no wonder. As women, the typical, toxic standards still apply and are often amplified when you become a mother. One example is the decades-long praise we’ve seen for celebrities who “get their body back after baby.” Women are supposed to do it all, mothers are supposed to do even more, yet we’re supposed to make it look easy. As women, we’re already in a race against time – a race against age – that only gets worse when considering children. All of this pressure is what makes motherhood so intimidating for me. I’m honestly not convinced I can do it all. If I already feel like I’m drowning on dry, child-free land, why would I jump into the kiddie pool?

My resistance is interesting because I technically have all the resources I could need, which I recognize is a privilege and more than many Americans can say, and it still doesn’t remove my inherent fear. It’s hard to have kids, yet I feel there’s little room to choose not to in this country. That scares me, considering how much weight women have to carry as mothers, from the physical carrying and birthing of the baby, to the task management and emotional labor – all of which is subject to judgement from others. It’s part of the overall inequality we face as women in America, and Chappell is a perfect example. She’s a woman getting slammed just for talking about her perspective on kids, yet men can call women like her – women without children – “sociopathic” and it’s fine? It also disregards the fact that not having kids isn’t a choice for some women. How are they supposed to feel when someone (a man, of course) says that your life doesn’t start until you become a mother? It’s just one big catch-22.

Inequality aside, I can relate to Chappell’s sentiment about kids in more ways than one. I’m no award-winning pop star, but I am a fellow writer/artist/creative person, and as such, I can relate to the fear of not having time to create. Now that I’m a freelancer, I have control of my schedule and more time than I sometimes know what to do with. So much so, that I realize how little time other people around me have, especially those with kids. Even with all the time I have, I haven’t written the book I said I was going to write or cultivated any of the other creative skills I’d like to, like painting and pottery. If I can’t manage to do any of this now, while I have the freedom, how will I possibly do so if and when I have kids? Better yet, how will I feel about myself – or them – if I don’t? It’s a fear that haunts me.

On the flip side, I’m also afraid of not having kids. Yes, I’m afraid of how my body will change (and hurt), how I’ll still be able to create, and how others will judge me, but I’m also afraid of missing out. I’m afraid of missing all the joy and growth, in myself, in my child, in my marriage. I’m afraid of growing apart from my friends, of not being able to relate to them nor them to me. Perhaps most of all, I’m afraid of regret and “what if.” I’m afraid of it being too late for my parents or myself.

I wish I could pare the choice down. I wish I could eliminate or ignore all the external factors and see parenting for what it is at its core: bringing a new soul into the world and nurturing them as they grow. I can see how that would feel hugely fulfilling, and for me, I think I would find it deeply healing. But despite all my privilege, the support and resources I know I’ll have, it just doesn’t feel that simple.