While becoming a mother is often an expectation for the female gender, many women are anxious about the possibility of having to give birth and raise children.
It’s ingrained in society to think that all women should aspire to have children. From a very young age, I learnt to always consider my future husband and my future kids, even in the smallest of decisions. I was taught to cook, not for myself but to make my future husband happy. It took growing up to realise that while the aspiration for motherhood is great, I deserved to know, love and listen to my own wants and needs. When I set aside the expectations of my family and community, I realised I was anxious about becoming a mother.
After speaking with a few women in my community, I found out that I was not alone in this feeling. Pregnancy is scary, and motherhood is often wrought with heavy responsibilities. From skyrocketing childcare costs to stalled careers. The mental and physical workload borne disproportionately by women in a family is alarming. The decision to have a child is no longer just about timing and expectation but about survival, identity, and agency. Society still celebrates motherhood as a natural next step after marriage, yet many women these days are choosing a different life path. For many women, the journey to motherhood is fraught with fear, doubt, and unanswered questions about what they’ll have to sacrifice along the way. Some women aren’t just anxious about becoming mothers; they’re certain they don’t want kids.
Your anxiety about having children is completely normal
Feeling anxious about having children is normal and a deeply human response to a life-altering decision. In a world that idealises parenting but rarely supports, it’s natural for women to question whether they’re ready, or even willing to take on the role of mother. Concerns about identity loss, career disruption, financial strain, and emotional burnout aren’t just abstract worries. The lived experiences of countless mothers ground these fears. Acknowledging this anxiety is not only normal, it’s necessary. It opens the door for honest conversations, informed choices, and ultimately, healthier parenting, for those who choose it.
The idea of growing a life inside of you for just about 9 months can be scary. Wumi, a married woman, says, “The entire process of growing a child in this body seems daunting. From what I’ve heard, there’s a 90% chance that the experience won’t be enjoyable, and I love to enjoy myself. I try to stay positive, but I have also stayed with some friends throughout their pregnancies, and the discomfort seems like it would be a lot.”
Wumi, like many others, isn’t only worried about childbirth; she is also worried about taking care of a child from infancy into adulthood. “To think that from the moment a child is born, I am responsible for them in every way? That is scary to me. As an adult, I am barely surviving this cruel world we live in, and bringing a child while having to protect them through it all feels like a tremendous step.”
Most women fear losing the life they know to something that doesn’t allow them to focus on their personal wants and needs. Tamar, a young artist, shares that: “You can’t be as selfish as you want. It’s not just about you anymore; it becomes a balancing act of prioritising your kids first and then you.”
These fears are not irrational; they reflect the real and lasting impact motherhood can have on a woman’s life. By normalising these concerns, we create space for women to approach motherhood with honesty, autonomy, and emotional clarity.
The pressure society places on women to become mothers
From childhood, many women are subtly and sometimes overtly taught that motherhood is not just an option, but destiny. Whether through media, family traditions, or cultural norms, the message is clear: to be a “complete” woman is to become a mother. This expectation often leaves little room for individual choice, creating guilt or confusion for those who hesitate or opt out entirely. It overlooks the complexity of womanhood and ignores the very real personal and economic factors that shape these decisions. In placing motherhood on a pedestal, society fails to ask whether women want to be mothers or if that’s the expectation.
Wumi reflects on the pressures she’s experienced regarding children. “I try not to let the pressure get to me; there’s no escaping it. It’s in everyone’s eyes, on their lips and even their actions,” she says. “There are also the unsolicited prayers from church members, advice from older women who apparently know my life’s plans better than I do, and then the gentle prodding by my parents that ‘time is going’. Sometimes, I feel like I am letting my parents down because I am an only child and giving them grandchildren seems to be at the top of their wishlist.”
Tamar thinks that “Societal pressures on women are immense. We are expected to find the perfect partner, have children, balance careers and be successful, and ensure our bodies return to their pre-baby state as remembered by others. Society expects us to run the household and make sure that there’s food on the table. We’re also expected to look good and feel good while doing all this.”
It’s about time the narrative shifts from expectation to choice. Society needs to recognise that motherhood should be a personal decision and not a societal obligation. When women are free to define their own paths, with or without children, we all move toward a more honest and inclusive understanding of fulfilment.
The fear of how a baby could change your life
For many women, the fear of how a baby could reshape every aspect of their life is both real and overwhelming. It’s not just about sleepless nights or dirty nappies. It’s about the potential loss of independence, identity, freedom, and the ability to prioritise personal goals. Studies have shown that a mother has to be willing to sacrifice their happiness for their child. A New York Times piece on the “The Motherhood Penalty,” elaborates just how much it costs a woman to raise a child. A child changes routines, relationships, finances, and even one’s sense of self, often in ways that are unpredictable and permanent. This fear stems from self-awareness and recognition that motherhood requires immense emotional, physical, and mental labour. In a world that often romanticises parenting without showing the full picture, it’s completely valid for women to hesitate before embracing such a profound shift.
On a baby changing her life, Wumi admits her deepest fears: “I look at my life now and think, this can all change in a minute with a baby in the picture. I have many friends who are mothers and see how it impacts their decisions. That’s an extra person to think about and care for, and it may sound selfish, but again, I barely remember to do everything on my daily to-do list.”
As for Tamar, being a free woman is paramount. “The fear of losing my personal freedom is probably one of the main reasons I haven’t had kids yet. I love my body without kids. I love the serene energy that comes with being a single woman and that I do not have to commit to serving a man or kids.” she admits. “Waking up and having my days be mine is a feeling I treasure. Whether I’m focusing on my dreams or slacking off, there’s no pressure. I can sleep well and rest because I’m only worrying for one, and it’s myself, so I’ll be gentle with myself.”
These reflections reveal that the fear of losing autonomy, identity, and emotional peace is both deeply personal and widely shared.
Motherhood isn’t always the dream
While society often paints motherhood as the ultimate fulfilment of womanhood, not every woman shares that vision. For some, the idea of having children feels more like a burden than a blessing, tied to expectations they never agreed to. Choosing not to become a mother can stem from various reasons. For some, a desire for freedom, focus on personal growth, concerns about the world, or simply not feeling called to motherhood. These women aren’t broken, selfish, or incomplete; they’re simply making a conscious choice to live authentically, even when that choice goes against the grain.
Deborah, a young unattached woman, never fantasised about wanting kids. “I came to the realisation that I want my life to be centred around me forever.” While she is comfortable and sure about this choice, she is living in a culture that doesn’t understand her decision. “I’m always judged and criticised for my choice to be child-free. At first, people’s responses always made me have second thoughts, but I always went back to default. Now, I’m more grounded in my decision and can defend it if I want to. However, in some cases, especially when it’s a hostile environment, I don’t share my thoughts on childbearing at all,” she shares. While there are many factors influencing this decision, Deborah tells us that “No one experience shaped my decision, but something affirmed it. Recently, I lost some of my family due to childbirth complications — mother and child — nobody gets over that.”
Deborah plans to fill her time with restful and relaxing activities. “I want to travel, I want to make spontaneous decisions and live freely. With children in the picture, I’d second-guess my life choices a lot because I’d always want to do what’s best for them. Which would be giving them stability but like I said, I’m selfish and want to do what’s best for me.”
Choosing not to have children is a personal decision that deserves understanding, not judgment. When we accept that motherhood isn’t every woman’s dream, we create a more honest and inclusive conversation about choice.
The decision to become a mother is personal and complex, shaped by a mix of societal expectations, individual fears, and genuine desires. By recognising and respecting the diverse feelings women have about motherhood — including anxiety, hesitation, or the choice to remain child-free. We can create a space for honest dialogue and greater empathy. Ultimately, supporting women in making empowered choices about their own lives benefits not just them but society as a whole.
