Age 24. I know I don’t want kids. I’ve never felt called to raise a family, as others talk about their plans. I don’t like being around children, finding them annoying and uninteresting. Young and sure of myself, I get a vasectomy. I won’t impregnate anyone by accident, and I’ll have an easy answer to anyone who tries to pressure me.

Age 28. Friends of mine are starting to raise children, and they talk about how nothing has ever made them happier. Habitually, I claim I don’t want kids, but I do start to worry: am I making a terrible mistake?

My vasectomy doesn’t actually put the decision to rest. Percutaneous Epididymal Sperm Aspiration and Testicular Sperm Extraction, respectively. bypass the severed vas deferens. PESA costs about $3k and succeeds about 80% of the time post-vasectomy, while TESE costs $6-10k with success rates over 95%. These days, if I were going to have offspring, I’d want to take advantage of modern genetic technology, embryo screening at the very least, and that means IVF. Sperm extraction adds very little to the overall cost of having children. I haven’t removed my option to reproduce, I’ve just ensured that if I do, it will be a very deliberate choice.

Am I Yearning?

I wish I had donated sperm before getting the vasectomy. It would be nice to know my genes were out there, without the commitment. Alas, I didn’t think of it before plunging ahead. I hope my brother has children. Abstractly, I clearly want my bloodline to continue.

I often reminisce about my own childhood these days. Is that just simple nostalgia, or does it indicate a desire to live out childhood again vicariously?

People tell me sometimes that I’d be a great dad. I agree with them! I think my own dad did an excellent job of raising me and my brother, and I’m similar to him in many ways, plus I have the benefit of learning from his distilled wisdom. Am I unjustly depriving the world? I’ve never bought into that sort of argument, instead taking the stance that people should simply do what makes them happy. I once again find myself referencing this idea without yet having written the post about it. I'd better elaborate soon. we ought to focus on living well, not on leaving a legacy. Is that true philosophy though, or just a sophisticated defence for childish dereliction of duty? Then again, having children out of a sense of duty sounds like a recipe for disaster. So, let’s leave duty aside and return to the pursuit of a good life, to the question of whether I’d be happier as a father. My dad tells me that I and my brother are his greatest sources of meaning and joy in life; if I’m similar to him, shouldn’t I expect fatherhood to be similarly good for me?

It’s psychologically important to me to have someone to dote on. I enjoy maintaining comfortable physical spaces, fostering strong social bonds, and creating delightful experiences, especially when it’s for someone I love as well as myself. Is this a proto-parental instinct, nurturance missing a target? Falling out of love after a breakup left a painful void in my soul. I find myself diminished for lack of purpose, in need of being needed. I’ve been throwing myself into providing for my community, offering to help friends where I can and organizing events to bring people together. Raising a family seems like a more sustainable outlet for this drive, and likely more rewarding as well.

What Would I Lose?

I derive a lot of joy from spontaneity, the ability to follow my desire and never apply self-coercion. I fear parenthood would take away a lot of that, pushing me into structure and routine I would need to force myself to follow. Jacob Falkovich once asked me, “what will you spend your optionality on?” (in person, but this post explores a similar idea). The question stuck with me, but I think I intrinsically enjoy the feeling of slack more than most people do.

I hear it’s easier than expected to raise children. A major factor in my reluctance to become a parent is concern that it would take over my life and prevent me from pursuing my other interests, but it seems that may not be the case. People raise kids and keep on doing cool and fun things.

I’m enjoying my freewheeling lifestyle, and I’m somewhat determined to live without returning to 9-5 employment. Traditionally, a man is supposed to have financial stability before starting a family, but I’m untraditional in many ways. Maybe I can settle down with a lovely career woman and be a househusband? Or maybe a standard career isn’t actually necessary at all to support a family. I’ve learned that option space is consistently larger than people imagine, and the economy is full of niches.

This is a key question for me. How much of my own freedom would I sacrifice, to bring new life into the world? The right limit isn’t “zero”, but it’s a good deal less than “all”.

Other Concerns

I was around a newborn baby the other day, at a party. My friends were cooing and fawning over it. I can see how they found it cute, I suppose? Mostly I just wished the conversation would turn away to topics I found more interesting. Most children are not babies, of course, but in my limited interactions with children, I am often bored, preferring the more sophisticated conversations I can have with adults. What if I had a child and it turned out I didn’t like it? Given what I know about evolution and the people in my life who have children, it seems likely a switch would flip to make me care for a child of my own. Even so, given how much I’m theorizing, I should probably run some experiments, helping friends with childcare and seeing how I feel.

So much can go wrong in parenthood. I feel deeply; if a child of mine died or otherwise encountered disaster, I could be destroyed by grief. Then again, maybe I should be grieving the children fear stops me from having. Besides, I’ve had romantic relationships end, and it has been very painful, but I’ve never regretted the relationship despite the pain. Experience teaches me that the vulnerability of grief is a worthwhile risk to take for the joy of connection; why should parenthood be different from romance, in this regard?

Leaping Into The Dark

Reading what I’ve written here, my reasons not to embark on the adventure of parenthood don’t seem very compelling. In the end, the reason not to have children is the same as ever: fear of the unknown. The decision of whether to become a parent is a vampire problem, irreversible and transformative. There’s no such thing as truly informed consent when considering undergoing a fundamental transformation. Non-parents don’t know what parenthood is like, and parents have had their values changed by the process. I’m happy as I am; would I be happier? There’s no way to know without trying, and no way to go back if I try and it turns out it really isn’t for me. I only get one shot at life, and either path could lead to regret, be it the absence of children, or the sacrifices I made for them. How am I to choose?

I Guess I Will, Actually

After writing the above, I put this post down for a couple months. I talked to some people, went on doing other things with my life, and let the ideas simmer. At some point, I realized my mind had changed, I do want to be a father. It’s hard to admit, after spending so long vocally convinced otherwise. I haven’t even told my parents yet; somehow, it feels easier to blog than to open that conversation. I’ll be sending them this post though. Hi Mom, hi Dad, I look forward to your calls!

I’m not in any rush. I’ve learned some lessons about prudence, after all, having to reckon now with my decision to get a vasectomy. I will start orienting my life in the direction of eventually having children, though. I’ll change how I filter in my search for a partner, expressing my interest in family-raising and no longer filtering out those who express their own. There’s the question of career as well. Traditionally, as a man, it would be my responsibility to provide financially. I’ve never been one to hold to tradition though, and while I haven’t been great at making money lately, I’m a pretty decent cook and handyman, and I excel at providing a warm caring presence and maintaining a supportive community. I’d make a fantastic stay-at-home dad, to complement a working mom with the competence and drive I find so attractive.

Why did I have a change of heart? Two big emotional shifts feel like the core drivers. First, I have a newfound sense of worthiness, a feeling that it’s intrinsically good for the world to be more me-shaped. Second, as I’ve gotten older and had plenty of fun, I’ve learned how meaning adds depth of happiness beyond what pleasure alone can provide, and raising a family feels meaningful, carrying on the grand story of humanity. Parenthood still raises a vampire problem, but I’ve ventured into the unknown before, and generally come out better for it. Besides, all of my ancestors took the leap; how bad could it really be?

Perhaps at some point I’ll write in more detail about my reasons for changing. For now, I’ll simply offer my thanks to some people I talked to who helped me think things through: my parents, who told me about their own journey of raising me and my brother, and about the doubts they didn’t let stop them; my uncle, who provided a balancing perspective with his gladness that he didn’t have kids of his own; and my friend Cyn, who prompted me to start questioning my long-held belief in the first place.