Birth of a Notion

Posted by fxckfeelings on February 19, 2015

Traditionally speaking, young people have always been impulsive by nature, but only recently have they given their philosophies acronyms, e.g., YOLO, FOMO, etc. (If you’re over fifty, these mean “You only live once” and “Fear of missing out.”) While it is true that you don’t live twice and that missing out on things is sad, focusing on these thoughts is often not helpful, particularly if you’re trying to make a mature decision. Sometimes you need to make up your mind and stick to it, FOMO be damned, and other times you should rethink a decision that feels right and consider standing down, because YOLO has a point. Either way, don’t feel guilty if a decision doesn’t come to mind or if later events cause you to reverse yourself. What counts in the long run is not whether you appear decisive; if your decisions promote good consequences that reflect your values, then you need not fear possible regret.
–Dr. Lastname

For the last eight months or so leading up to my 40th birthday, I have been bugged by the awareness that although I am not sure if I want a kid or not, the clock is ticking, and it worries me that the decision will be taken through lack of decision-making. Yes, I should discuss it with my husband but somehow I can’t get the words to come out. Perhaps I am stalling because of what he might say (I have imagined it either way and both are scary). I think we both have the makings of good parents, but we’ve never really been like other “proper grown-ups.” We have talked about it a few years ago and he was like “it’s up to you”… I think neither of us wants to be the one to pressure the other. Now I am just confused and mildly panicked. My goal is to find the courage to have a big grown up conversation and move forward, whatever decision we arrive at.

There are a lot of fun, contradictory human instincts, i.e., the way people feel compelled to get others to smell or taste something bad, or the way they merge at the last second to avoid traffic, thereby creating yet more traffic and filling less evil drivers with rage (ahem).

Less insidiously, there’s the way people avoid dealing with the most important decisions and leave them up to fate, the least reliable arbitrator of all.

You’re so spooked that you can’t even come up with an opinion on the subject; deciding how you feel about having children shouldn’t begin with a conversation with your husband, unless you want him to make up your mind for you, particularly since he’s told you he’s OK with whatever you decide. With the pressure of having a major decision on behalf of two people, it’s no wonder you’re stuck.

Instead of feeling like you have to jump to making a decision, begin by asking yourself what you need to make up your own mind. You can’t find an answer to this question without figuring out your opinion first.

You’re already confident about you and your husband’s abilities as possible parents, so ask yourself whether you can afford kids in terms of all the resources required: money, time, and the sacrifice of other priorities. Don’t expect to discover a calling, just assure yourself that you’ve covered the parenting job description and know how it would change your current life.

Then think about your ticking clock and death. Ask yourself whether raising children is important to your idea, or your husband’s, of leading a meaningful life. Figure out what you’re idea of a meaningful life is, because that can be anything from a life spent helping people to one dedicated to the collection of Battlestar Galactica memorabilia. It’s really up to you.

If you decide that having kids is not a necessary life priority, don’t criticize yourself for lacking courage or maturity. Respect the fact that you’ve done your best to consider your priorities and make a good decision that works best for you, no matter what anyone else thinks. Then you’re ready to talk with your husband.

Find out whether he’s figured out an opinion of his own. Then take pride in your opinion, whatever it is, as you decide what to do together. If you don’t want kids, let him know that you’re happy with your life together and your small, loving family. If you do want kids, let him know you have confidence in the love you can provide as parents and the new experiences that child-rearing will bring.

Don’t hold yourself responsible for avoiding regrets, whether they’re his or yours, because all decisions create possible regrets. Just respect your decision-making process, the fact you have a good, stable marriage, and that you found the courage to confront the issue and keep fate out of it.

STATEMENT:
“I feel I should want children, but I don’t feel strongly about parenting. I know how to think through my decision, and I’m confident in the value of my marriage and my life, regardless of what happens.”

I love my son, and in most ways, he’s the best kid I could imagine or ask for, but my parents’ families lost many relatives in the Holocaust, and the idea of having non-Jewish grandchildren is more than I can bear; after all my ancestors sacrificed in the name of our faith, it would feel like a huge betrayal. So the fact that my son’s decided to marry an Asian-American girl is just unacceptable to me. I’m sure she’s as smart and nice as he says, but he should realize that he has a responsibility to his family and all our relatives who died because of the religion he can so casually reject. Even though I don’t want to hurt him, I think the right thing is to stay away and let him know he can’t be a part of our family if he doesn’t want to accept his responsibilities. My goal is to figure out the right thing to do.

Just because the Nazis took personal responsibility for eliminating Jews doesn’t mean you must take personal responsibility for creating them. The danger in holding yourself responsible for something you don’t control is, as always, that you can make things worse, and this is a good example.

I assume you’ve done your job as a Jewish parent and taught your kids their heritage and values. If you go further, and try to control how they live with that heritage, you are likely to drive them further away as well as reduce your influence on your grandchildren. So stop giving yourself and son a guilt trip, and start figuring out what kind of Judaism-preservation you’re actual capable of.

Begin by remembering that Judaism has long had a mysterious ability to preserve itself despite a near-comical number of attempts to wipe it out throughout history, and that it insults Judaism to attribute its survival to persecution or the determination of Jewish parents and community and religious authorities to cast out compromisers. The social and family culture of Judaism has its own strength, as do the debates about ethics that are at the core of Jewish thought.

Ask yourself what you consider most important about your Jewish heritage; then, try to live it and find ways to share that heritage with your son and his children without making it an obligation. Show your pride in being part of a people that has accepted, for at least 3,000 years, that nothing matters more than being a good person, and has wrestled to figure out what that means in a world that always forces compromise.

Don’t feel you’ve failed because he’s marrying a gentile; continue to live as a Jew and make it your job to share your pride in what that means. Whether he or his kids meet your expectations, you’ll know you’ve done your job and given Judaism every opportunity to influence your family’s future generations in a way that would please the previous ones.

STATEMENT:
“I can’t stop feeling like a failure when I think of my son’s marrying outside our faith, but I know I raised him as a Jew and that I will continue to lead our family as one who is proud of its Jewish heritage and confident that Judaism can help shape its future.”