KARA MARIELA

My perspective may indeed be subjective, but the preconceived notions about parenthood that I’ve grown up with have led me to reflect on the essence of becoming parents.

After my husband and I got married, we started receiving advice from elders, encouraging us to begin parenthood promptly. Their rationale? Children are said to bring blessings, and financial concerns shouldn’t stand in the way because money comes with having children. While the notion might appear illogical and somewhat imprudent—after all, why decide to have children without the financial means to provide for them in the first place?—the saying ‘More kids, more blessings’ resonates deeply within the cultural fabric I experienced growing up in Indonesia. It’s certainly not the wisest advice, but the idea of having children after marriage has been a recurring theme during my upbringing. It always felt like the norm.

Even now, I still hear of couples who are encouraged by their boomer-generation parents to have children, despite their decision to be childfree. I have even witnessed some parents going as far as discussing this behind their backs, urging others to persuade them to have children and expressing their desire to have grandchildren.

It was only after stepping into the parenting role myself that I began questioning the implications of this perspective, revealing its rather insensitive undertones. Besides overlooking the financial readiness, emotional availability, and personal commitment needed to raise a human being, what unsettles me the most is its profound self-serving nature. In other words, the pressure to pursue parenthood appears to be more geared toward benefiting us rather than prioritizing the child. Bringing another human into this world with our own benefit in mind seems to raise questions about selflessness.

I’m not suggesting it’s entirely incorrect, but throughout my upbringing, there’s a deeply rooted belief that it’s the child’s privilege to be born. There’s a saying here that I often hear in cases when a parent hurts their child, ‘After all, they are your parents’—that basically suggests a parent has the right to not take accountability for their negative actions. Personally, this has left me with a persistent sense of obligation, feeling that I must somehow compensate for my existence. 

It was a concept I believed in until I became a parent myself, prompting me to wonder: do parents perceive the act of having a child as granting them certain entitlements, resulting in a reluctance to take responsibility for any negative actions? If that’s the case, is the decision to bring a child a manifestation of our ego and desire? Do we genuinely believe that it’s the child’s privilege to be a part of our lives, even if they end up receiving less than they deserve? And what is it that a child truly deserves?

Choosing Parenthood: Fostering Genuine Intentions Over Social Pressure

Before getting pregnant with my baby, both my husband and I were working. While we entered into our marriage with the shared goal of starting a family, I consistently communicated to my husband my desire to continue working even after having a child. I didn’t want to abandon the career I had cultivated for years just because I was becoming a parent. Looking back, I still can’t believe how this stance didn’t seem self-absorbed to me at all.

This doesn’t suggest that being a working mother isn’t feasible; it certainly is. However, based on my personal experience, it’s undeniable that I perceived my unborn baby as a potential obstacle to my career. Even in my decision to have a child, I completely disregarded the baby’s essential need for my presence. The baby’s perspective didn’t cross my mind, nor did I understand what a child deserves from a parent—making the idea of having a baby all about my life. In that instance, I was genuinely selfish for wanting a child, knowing I wouldn’t be able—and chose not to—fulfill their most basic need, which is being present.

I finally resigned from my job when I was six months pregnant, a decision my husband and I made, believing it would be in the best interest of our child. Although I’m glad we lived up to our responsibilities, it wasn’t until I fully immersed myself in my motherhood role that I finally asked myself: why would I want to have a child if I’m not equipped to raise them independently? If I acknowledge my inability to provide the full extent of dedication and care for my unborn baby but still consciously decide to have one, am I genuinely considering that my child deserves only a portion of my presence and wholehearted effort? Does it mean that my choice to have a child was motivated by selfish motives? Am I implying that it’s the child’s privilege to have a parent raise them, when, in fact, it should be their right? 

I’ve encountered couples in the same position as I was, who decided to have a child but had no initial intention of caring for the baby themselves. Some express a desire to continue pursuing their careers, and neither can afford to quit their jobs to raise a baby at home. Others simply admit that they prefer not to take on the responsibility themselves, opting instead to employ babysitters to maintain their lifestyle. Yet, the question remains: why do some choose to have children, and why does the decision to have a child appear to be made so lightly in the culture where I live?

It seems to me that the sentiment associated with having children generally oversimplifies parenting, often neglecting essential aspects of responsible caregiving. The societal pressure for couples to adopt parenthood as soon as they are married frequently results in the normalization of parents outsourcing help, overshadowing the crucial presence of a parent in the child’s early years.

As I immerse myself in the parenting role, I witness the profound impact my presence has on every aspect of my child’s life and being. It underscores the significant amount of time and effort invested in her—a realization I once took for granted. My role as a parent is pivotal, extending to the very essence of the child’s soul. Living in a culture where parenthood is often promoted without much thought, the true weight of parental responsibility only became fully apparent to me later on, and hopefully, I’ll continue to figure it out.