Yes, No, Maybe? Deciding Whether To Have A Baby

Nestled in the heart of NYC’s West Village, the therapists at Atrium Psychotherapy invite you on a journey of self-discovery and emotional exploration. "Couch Chronicles" is more than just a column; it's a tapestry of human experiences, woven with tales of growth, transformation, love, and loss.

Each installment offers fresh insights and reflections from their professional and personal lives in one of the world's most dynamic cities. Whether you're seeking guidance, inspiration, or a deeper understanding of the intricate world of psychotherapy, "Couch Chronicles" promises to be a beacon of light and learning.

Some people know they want kids. This could be something they’ve always just known or always pictured for themselves. They may have questions about timing, finding the right partner, or figuring it out economically, but the desire is clear. Conversely, there are those for whom the idea of having children simply doesn't enter their realm of consideration — not out of aversion, but indifference, akin to how one might feel about pursuing a degree in a subject that never sparked their interest. In these instances, the absence of desire is equally clear.

However, in my experience as a therapist in New York City, both professionally and within my personal circles, most people I encounter are uncertain. For some, this indecision escalates into an obsessive ordeal, entangling their thoughts into a complex web of anxiety and hypotheticals. If that sounds like you, you’re not alone!

A rewarding aspects of my role as a therapist is likened to that of a midwife, guiding into this world what is nascent and waiting to be born within the psyches of my patients. Ironically, when addressing ambivalence about whether to have children, the process can seem paradoxically stagnant and circular. Exploring the question gets blocked by defensive walls, and progress gets swept back up into repetitive thought loops. At the heart of this struggle is often a longing for both versions of their future: one that revels in the freedoms of a childfree life, rich with personal autonomy and exploration; and another that cherishes the deep, physical bond of family life, albeit with its constraints and responsibilities. These desires may wax and wane, coming in and receding like a tide. What one “really wants” remains obscured.

As someone who’s navigated these uncertain waters alongside many women (including my own), I offer a series of journal prompts designed to delve deeper into these complexities. The aim is to provide a space for reflection that might liberate individuals from the cyclical patterns of doubt and indecision, granting clarity and vitality regardless of the path chosen.

“Decision," derived from the French de-caedere, meaning "to cut," aptly captures the essence of choosing: it's an act of separation. Engaging with someone struggling to decide can be a test of patience, transforming what should be a simple choice — like picking a restaurant — into a journey through an existential labyrinth. Indecision, in its own peculiar way, becomes a language of love, where discussing every possible option becomes an end in itself. Yet, this endless deliberation gradually erodes the very purpose it was meant to serve. Soon, no restaurant seems worth it anymore. The analysis paralysis tarnished the “meal.” At this point, it can be hard to remember if you’re even hungry.

Yet overanalyzing and indecision are not the problems, they’re symptoms of deeper conflicts. Indecision acts as a distraction, protecting the latent struggles within. It masquerades as a harmless, if not frustrating, quirk. This is a defense mechanism doing its job!

In today’s world, we are both burdened and blessed with the privilege of choice, a luxury seemingly less available to previous generations for whom life's major milestones, such as marriage and childbirth, followed a more prescribed path. Now faced with this decision, maybe we don’t know how to make the cut. The magnitude of having a baby is in ways, unthinkable. Birth, like death, is as big as they come. In confronting the monumental decision of whether to have a baby, the stirrings within one's inner world can be magnified, encompassing a spectrum from aggression to despair, from hope to tenderness. These emotions reveal the deep, often conflicting threads of thought and feeling that become entangled in the heart of ambivalence. Below, I'll shine a light on some of these crucial strands, inviting you to unravel them through journal prompts tailored for introspection on this pivotal choice.

The Have’s and the Have Not’s

Feeling stuck in uncertainty about whether or not to have a baby can be an isolating experience. It's all too easy to fall into the trap of believing that everyone else has their life figured out while you're lagging behind. This sensation can stir up old wounds related to being left behind or moving at a different pace than peers. Additionally, it might highlight feelings of not having enough resources to confidently make a decision. The following may sound familiar:


While there's truth in these concerns, they often emanate from a place of perceived scarcity — a voice tinged with envy, feelings of being short-changed, bitterness, and a sense of abandonment. This mindset can awaken deep-seated feelings of deprivation that lay dormant, making it challenging to feel empowered to move in any direction. When this voice takes the wheel, the sense of agency needed to navigate life's paths can feel entirely out of reach

Journal Prompt: Reflect on what you feel you lack in your life that might influence your decision about having children. How do these perceived deficiencies shape your views on potential parenthood? Next, envision sitting down with the part of yourself that feels shortchanged or impoverished. Give this part a voice. Consider how the dialogue with your impoverished self influences your perspective on potential parenthood.

Me? A Mom? Hah.

Other people are moms, but me? The very thought may seem alien, casting one adrift in a sea of doubts about one’s identity and place in the world. Yet, this personal trepidation mirrors a larger societal narrative, one that paints motherhood in broad strokes of sacrifice and selflessness, often at the expense of individuality. As we navigate these internal dialogues, we find they are not just reflections of our own fears but also echoes of cultural assumptions about what it means to 'become a mom.’ This journal prompt aims to bring the idea of “motherhood” a little closer to heart.

Journal Prompt: Reflect on the fears and uncertainties you associate with motherhood. How can acknowledging and addressing these feelings bring you closer to a heartfelt understanding of what being a mother could mean for you? If the traditional narrative of motherhood doesn't resonate with you, what alternative story feels more authentic? How can you nurture and develop this narrative in your life, regardless of whether you choose to have children?

Making an Emotional Decision

Ambivalence about having children often signifies a deep, reflective engagement with one's life choices. It suggests a desire to approach this monumental decision thoughtfully and with as much information as possible, which is great! On the surface, the decision to have a baby might not seem "smart" in a conventional sense; after all, children demand a tremendous amount of resources, time, and energy. In today's fast-paced world, choosing to pause and invest in raising a child can almost seem like a luxury or an act that defies the relentless push for productivity and success as defined by capitalist values. It's crucial, then, to examine what "smart" really means in this context. Adhering too rigidly to a work-centric identity or the pressure to constantly produce can skew our understanding of what's genuinely important. The contemplation of parenthood offers a valuable moment to reassess our values.

It’s also important to bear in mind that the decision to have children might ultimately be driven more by emotion than by logic. The yearning to experience parenthood — or the lack thereof — doesn't always stem from a place that can be neatly rationalized. Sometimes, it's about a gut feeling. This serves as a reminder that not all of life's decisions need to be justified by logical reasoning; our feelings and intuitions hold significant value too.

Journal Prompt: Where does your sense of 'smart' decision-making come from, and how might it be serving or hindering you? Next, try to have a dialogue with your ‘gut.’ What does it have to say?

The Relationship

Much of the support for navigating ambivalence about having a baby concentrates on helping individuals discern what they want. This seems great — self sufficient people like solving their own problems. If the issue lies with me then I can be more in control of fixing it. Yet, desire is not always a solitary flame. Hearing your partner’s dreams can awaken a profound, perhaps previously unacknowledged, longing within yourself. This intermingling of dreams signifies the beginning of a creative — or procreative — process that extends far beyond the biological act of conception. Embarking on this phase of life requires a leap of faith with our partner, a readiness to hold hands and jump together into the unknown. Obsessing over whether to have a baby can mask deeper frustrations within the relationship, where their hand feels out of reach. Addressing the relational aspect of ambivalence can illuminate what’s needed its the relationship to cultivate the safety and intimacy necessary to navigate life's next chapters together, with or without children.

Journal Prompt: Consider how it feels to let your partner influence your desires in such a significant way. How does it challenge your sense of autonomy? How does it enrich your sense of partnership? Contemplate what’s needed in your relationship so you feel more united moving forward.

Saying Yes and No

In a world where having a baby is often seen as the norm, particularly for heterosexual couples, the decision not to have children can be experienced as an act of defiance. There's a certain allure in challenging societal expectations, and choosing not to have a baby can feel like a powerful statement. This choice can symbolize a myriad of unspoken 'nos' we wish we had said in the face of a lifetime of appeasement. Refusal, in its essence, is potent and rebellious, yet it can also tether us to the very norms we aim to reject, creating an illusion of autonomy while we remain stationary. Navigating this complex terrain can be one of the most galvanizing aspects of contemplating parenthood. It prompts us to confront the internal battle between societal pressures and our authentic desires. This process is not just about deciding on parenthood but about reclaiming our agency. Perhaps for the first time, we can figure out what we want to start saying yes to. Or even hell yes.

Journal Prompt: Reflect on a time when you said 'no' to something significant. What motivated that decision? Now, do the same about a time you said ‘yes.’ Apply that reflection to the idea of having children. What does saying 'no' to parenthood offer you, and what does it ask you to confront about yourself? Then do the same for saying ‘yes.’

But, I like My Life As It Is

This may be one of the most common laments facing those ambivalent about having a baby. Like may even be an understatement. You may love your life as it is now. After years of dedication and hard work to build a life that feels rewarding and fulfilling, the prospect of introducing a baby into this carefully balanced equation can seem daunting. Food for thought: Loving the life you built may be a beautiful foundation upon which to have a baby. It's arguably a healthier starting point than seeking parenthood as a remedy for dissatisfaction. The hope is that, regardless of your decision to have a baby, pursue alternative paths to family building, or choose a different journey altogether, you remain responsive to these profound longings. Change is a constant in life, yet embracing transformation is a deliberate choice.

Journal Prompt: Are there any significant, daring changes you're contemplating? If choosing not to have a baby, envision the possibilities and fantasies of what life could look like. Consider whether the idea of a baby feels like it excludes these dreams from becoming reality. How does the thought of maintaining your current lifestyle indefinitely resonate with you? Explore the possibility of harmonizing both worlds — embracing the life you love now while potentially making room for new experiences, or even parenthood.

Rethinking Regret

I’d like to change the way we talk about regret. I’ve heard this adage that “it’s preferable to regret not having kids than to have them and regret it." This view is too binary, and treats regret as though it’s an incurable affliction rather than a complex emotion rooted in our humanity. The term 'regret' itself, derived from Old English *grætan*, meaning "to weep," and Old French *regreter*, "to long after," speaks to a deep-seated yearning and sorrow inherent to the human experience. Life, in its essence, is accompanied by an inescapable bittersweetness. Addressing the possibility of having children invites us into a deeper introspection about paths not taken and the regrets that may already dwell within us.

Journal Prompt: Begin by envisioning regret not as a fearsome adversary but as a wise guide coming to offer insight. Picture regret sitting beside you. What does regret look like to you? How does it feel to sit with it? Invite yourself to think about the concept of having children and the ambivalence surrounding this decision. Recognize any feelings of regret that arise. Notice where these feelings reside in your body. Ask regret to share its wisdom with you and offer you reassurance.

My hope is that this list resonates with the deep, often unspoken feelings that surface while navigating the decision to have a baby. This subject holds a special place in my heart (and womb), as I, too, navigated through years of ambivalence before having a child 15 months ago. The reflections shared here are drawn from pivotal moments of my own journey, and I hope they illuminate new paths for you as well.

However, it's crucial to acknowledge the pressures and realities not covered here, such as societal and systemic supports and barriers for parents, the emotional rollercoaster of fertility challenges, and the diverse ways families come into being. These aspects merit further discussion and support, as they significantly impact the decision-making landscape.

This piece aims to voice the complexities and nuances of feeling uncertain about parenthood, normalize ambivalence as a natural part of a decision-making process, and articulate the inner emotional experience of riding these waves. So for those who are still undecided, and for those anxiously flip flopping, caught a riptide of indecision, just know you’re doing a great job.The compassion, thoughtfulness, and care you're applying to this decision speak volumes of the love you have to offer. Your future babies — human and otherwise — are already lucky to have you.