Beyond Statistics: Personal Reflections from Childfree Women in Their 40s

Beyond Statistics: Personal Reflections from Childfree Women in Their 40s

Sadie (42) never felt the “strong, primal call” to become a mother. Instead, she affirms that she already is a mother, in her own way. As a nanny and a hands-on semi-parent to her two young nieces, she knows how to mother, and is mothering constantly. 

A single resident of Toronto, Sadie is one of the almost 25% of Canadian women in their 40s who do not have children. Canada is one country of many with an “ultra-low fertility rate” (read more about that here), in part because of economic constraints, delayed family growth, gender equity, and cultural shifts.  

Canada’s total fertility rate (TFR) has been on a long-term trajectory of decline since the late 1950s baby boom. With governments around the world working to incentivize women into having more children, it’s important to listen to stories from real people. While the hard data is eye-opening, lived experiences should be an equally significant part of the conversation.

Barbara (40) is from New Brunswick and works for public health in communications. She is single with no kids, and her life priorities are, simply put, to “build a meaningful life for myself through work, community, friends and family, and to make sure I’m having as much fun as possible along the way.”

When she was in her twenties, Barbara both wanted and expected to have children. But by the time she reached her late thirties, she was still single, and had successfully cultivated a fulfilling and happy childfree life with dreams related to work and travel. She knows there are many ways to build a family, and she doesn’t rule out having children in the future. But she now sees “thousands of ways forward” instead of a more limited scope. Mental Health and The Future

On their respective journeys, Barbara and Sadie have been influenced by factors including finances, relationships, personal values, and the unique threats of the modern world, but Sadie’s focus in recent years has been on day-to-day survival and mental health recovery.

“I’ve spent a decent amount of my adult life just surviving my own mind,” she says. “I have rarely felt stable enough emotionally to feel ready and confident to consider parenthood.”

Sadie has dealt with the fear that if she didn’t reach a certain level of self-actualization, her emotional dissatisfaction might burden her child. Additionally, the suffering inherent in the impacts of climate change (and the terrifying political consequences that environmental destabilization would cause) has given her great pause.

The state of the world has impacted Barbara’s decision to have children as well.

“The idea of political leaders and global markets not responding to scientific evidence on global emissions and warming signals is terrifying for us all,” she says.

The Gender Gap

In the past, Sadie’s enduring position has been that finding the right partner would be a key step in her journey towards motherhood.

“[Parenthood] felt much more to do with deeply loving someone and wanting to create and nurture a life together,” she says. 

But as her fertile window closes, she’s had more serious thoughts about parenting as a single woman, especially as someone who is distrusting of men due to witnessing the insidious nature of misogyny and how it can impact domestic workloads.

 “If I did consider raising a child with a man, he would have to prove to me that he could be a truly supportive and balanced partner and father. I would need promises and commitments. I feel utterly unwilling to compensate for a weak co-parent.”

This outlook is informed by Sadie’s lived experience observing men in their roles as fathers, watching some slip into ineptitude and selfishness. As a co-parent to her brother’s daughters, she has felt a great deal of “resentment, rage, and desperation” in compensating for his failings and transgressions, making her more vigilant and less eager to trust.

External Expectations

Barbara hasn’t felt significant pressure from family or friends to have children, but she did feel a “wave of pity” directed towards her in her late 30s, a time when she had never felt more strong, capable or steady. This made her feel misunderstood; in her mind she was a trailblazer, part of a group of women who were proud to do things differently, to craft a unique, unconventional kind of life, but she was met with something else, something disappointing (and a bit regressive). Barbara didn’t want to force a situation that didn’t feel right, whether it meant a relationship or having children. She felt confident in this decision.

In terms of regrets or doubts, Barbara’s position is clear: she has none.

Sadie feels more nuance in that regard: she is grateful to not be in an inequitable partnership, trying to be a mother under that level of distress. But she also allows herself room to wonder what being a mother might have done to mature or strengthen her. To a degree, she envies this rite of passage and appreciates that motherhood can be very empowering. 

Canada’s Role Going Forward

Parenting is hard, and Sadie is keenly aware of this fact. Through her work as a nanny, she sees firsthand the intimate struggles of new parenthood, how isolating and lonely it can be. She wishes there was more transparency about what being a mother is like, and that the social and financial support offered to Canadian parents was more substantial.

“The choice to become a parent is important,” she says. “It shouldn’t be regarded as a biological function; it should be regarded as a major undertaking.”

Recently, when Sadie was with a client’s baby, she had a thought: I really should become a mother. She describes it not as a passing fancy, or a sense of obligation, but a feeling that it was an important experience, like a gentle mandate or calling. But this goes back to her original point: she already is a mother; there are many ways to mother, to nurture, to care for, to prioritize and uplift children.

Decisions around childrearing are as personal and complex as the people making them. Most importantly, women without children are not a monolith. There is no overarching solution, because they are not a problem to be solved. So the question may not be: what do we have to do to get women to have more children? It may be: how do we make the world an easier, more supportive place to raise children, whether it be as a parent, an aunt, or a friend? The answer is not simple, and it doesn’t require a heavy-handed approach. Instead, we are being called to listen.

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