I began questioning whether I wanted children on Election Day 2016. It had nothing to do with my desire to become a mother but rather everything to do with not wanting to bring a child into the world we live in. There has always been hate. There has always been violence. There has always been racism, sexism, homophobia, and xenophobia. But Trump’s election seemed to be a siren call to the hatred that was hidden before.
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In no way do I regret having my child
The next year I became pregnant with my first and only child. Since she was born, the thought that having a child was a mistake has crossed my mind multiple times. To be clear, I don’t regret having my child or wish that she was not in the world. However, I do ruminate on the wisdom of bringing her into it in the first place.
Because now that she is here, I want to protect her. I worry, like any parent, about my child. I worry about her being bullied by other children. I worry about her contracting a disease that could cut her life short or harm her in other ways. I worry that developmental delays will make her life harder. I hate to see tears from bruised feelings and bloody knees. I’m not a helicopter parent, but having an anxiety disorder does make me reflect more on the things that other people find easier to ignore.
I get scared of all of the violence in the world
I get scared. And I am scared of how much we all seem to hate one another most of all. We brought our daughter home from the hospital into a neighborhood that was shaped just as much by bullets as it was by basketball, and during the COVID-19 shutdowns, gun violence escalated.
I will never be able to unsee the view outside my peephole of a teenager bleeding out on the court across the street from our house. Or unhear the anguished screams of a woman – likely another mother – that followed another cluster of gunshots months later.
In general, I don't feel safe in the world
We were financially privileged enough to be able to escape the city for the suburbs two years ago. Now living in a place where we feel much more safe, my daughter can play outside without me having to scoop her up in my arms and run inside at the sound of gunshots. But I still don’t feel safe in the world in general.
It feels impossible to feel safe and settled in a world in which people are shooting missiles at each other and spraying music festivals, nightclubs, and grocery stores with bullets. When soldiers with tanks invade bordering countries. When thousands of civilians are killed, injured, and brutalized.
I want to protect my child from everything
As a woman, I don’t even feel safe in my own country, one that is moving toward taking more rights away from women, as well as LGBTQ+ individuals. We have so many people who still deny climate change and science in general. A country where we are banning books that share historical truths and the lived experiences of Black and other marginalized Americans under the guise of protecting children. I want to protect my child. From hatred. From bigotry. From becoming another casualty of a school shooting.
I also want to expose her to love and acceptance. To people that are different from her — people that have different skin colors, cultural traditions, and family structures. My daughter loves learning and exploration. She is creative and curious and asks tough questions.
But I don’t want to have to answer some of those questions. I don’t want to talk about death and racism and people hurting one another. However, I do and will continue to because veiling things in half-truths and book bans doesn’t make them not exist.
Our only hope and desire is to raise a child that is culturally aware and kind
Now that my daughter has been part of this world for five years, I know I will never stop worrying about her and her future. But while I can’t control what is happening in Israel and Palestine, in Texas, or even next door, I can choose how my husband and I raise our daughter. Right now we are equipping her to be a child, teen, and eventually an adult who is tolerant and kind. One who reads books, engages in hard conversations, and never stops learning about the world and the people around her.
