I always wanted to be a mom.
Throughout my 20s, I thought that my long-term relationship would lead to marriage and kids. When I left that 10-year relationship when I turned 31, I was convinced that I had wasted the best child-rearing years of my life. But soon after, I shifted from wanting kids to questioning if that was meant to be and considered freezing my eggs.
I am a child of divorced parents and the youngest in my parents’ first marriage. My father remarried and went on to have two more children — three girls and a boy. They broke up when I was very young, so I never got to see them together. Their divorce never really bothered me because, at a young age, I could see why my parents weren’t together. But that never stopped me from imagining myself getting married, having kids, and living in a big house. I still saw that for myself, and in many ways still do.
But for a decade, I’ve been dealing with Hashimoto’s disease, an autoimmune disorder that causes my hypothyroidism. So the thought of putting my body through pregnancy has also always made me super nervous. Now combine that with IVF or the like, and you learn it’s a lot of trouble for such an expensive procedure that isn’t even guaranteed to work.
I made peace with potentially not becoming a mother when I turned 40 last year. I am just one of many on this journey, as the fertility rate in the U.S. reached a historic low in 2023, according to Pew Research. What’s more, Hispanic women are helping drive those numbers, specifically those of Mexican heritage.
I found it incredibly comforting to learn that I am not the only one thinking twice about motherhood. I’ve met some women who even say they aren’t having kids because they simply do not want to. According to the data, I had missed my window of opportunity, given that fertility drops after the age of 35, and my pregnancy would be considered “high risk.” Assessing this part of my life also made me realize that I had certain standards that needed to be in place before I even considered bringing a child into my life.
One of those standards included doing it with a partner who I loved and could share this experience with. That was and still is absolutely vital. I had no desire to be a single mother and still don’t. I don’t want children that badly to do it alone. Second, I would need to have a home and land. I would want to raise my child for at least the first five years of their life, possibly eight. I love children, teaching, mentoring, and, most importantly, the power of play.
I also knew my finances would have to be in check, and passive income is a must for me. Like I told my parents, the money I make now is a great fit for a single woman. If I were to add a child to the mix, we would both get the short end of the stick. I don’t want to sign up for that kind of struggle. I don’t want to “make it work” if I have a kid. I want to be set up for us all to thrive. If not, I don’t want to be a mother because the only thing that will grow is debt and resentment.
Also, we cannot talk about motherhood without talking about the state our country is in right now. From the lack of universal healthcare and maternity leave to Black women and Latinas’ high maternal mortality rates and unaffordable childcare. Women are expected to work like they don’t have careers, and mother like they don’t have jobs or careers. Having a child despite all of this is pretty badass, but it doesn’t need to be for me.
I hope my journey can start a conversation about this difficult decision, so here are all the factors going into it for me:
So I’ve decided to only have children, whether natural or by adopting, if I have a partner, am work optional, own a home and land, and can hire a team of people to help me in case I need it. If not, no dice. This decision was not easy to make but definitely a very personal one. Even with that said, I hope whoever reads this walks away knowing that I took a lot into consideration before getting here and want others to know that they don’t have to do life the way others do to be happy. Here is everything I thought long and hard about before my decision.
Making Peace With Possibly Not Becoming a Mother
I am completely and utterly at peace with not having a kid in my life right now. One of the things that has helped me make peace with the possibility of not becoming a mother is all the support I’ve received from other mothers. So many moms in my life have pulled me aside to tell me to live my life, do whatever I want, and not rush into motherhood because there are always ways to become a mother.
At first, I was a bit nervous to tell my parents, as my mom had spent most of my 20s asking when I was going to have children. But the relief of getting this off my chest was everything I didn’t know I needed. I added that I would like to revisit motherhood in a few years as I have always wanted to adopt a child. I could tell they were a bit sad to hear these words coming from me, but there was nothing I could do. Those are their feelings to hold and they are allowed to grieve that as well. “Bueno hija, you know what’s best for you,” my mother told me.
What Dating in My 40s Looks Like
The dating pool is made up of a lot of divorced dads who have children, and many of them do not want to have more. But the person I end up with has to be okay with either trying to have a kid naturally and/or adopting a child. The challenge is, that because of my age, I also need to be open to the possibility of not being able to successfully conceive naturally or even with the help of IVF or other fertility treatments. I know this isn’t an impossible ask, because I have met men who are on the same page with me on this, but it hasn’t worked out for other reasons outside of having kids.
Blame it on dating in your 40s, but this type of conversation usually comes up even before the first date happens, and I’m here for it. I would rather know where someone stands on this before meeting in person so I don’t waste my time, so I usually bring up the subject during FaceTime before the actual date. I’ve had to walk away from a couple of guys who didn’t want kids in any capacity. But it was dating them that helped me realize that I definitely needed this window to be open.
The Stigma of Being a Single Woman at 40
I am so comfortable and at ease with my decision, so the stigma around choosing to be childless doesn’t bother me. Like many other women, I often get called selfish, to my face and behind my back, for being content if I remain childless.
But even with all we know about this subject, there are still family members out there asking, “¿Y el hijo? Cuando ya?” In the same way, they used to always ask me, “¿Y tu novio?” Why do people think it’s okay to ask about this so casually? It’s also triggering when moms claim that I “will never know a true love like a child’s love.” Yes, women have cruelly said this to me with a straight face. I have learned the hard way that having a deep discussion that begins with a mom pitying me gets me nowhere. What about the love for my nieces and nephews? Or the one I have for my parents or siblings? Or what about that pesky thing called self-love? Does that love not count?
What I find most fascinating are the moms who pull me aside and tell me not to have kids at all. They talk to me about how traumatic labor can be, the impact pregnancy and giving birth have on the body, and how many of them, despite being married, feel like single moms. The ones who say, “Well, if you count my husband, that’s three kids in total.” It breaks my heart that women joke about feeling alone in a marriage with children. I would rather be single for life than married to a man who didn’t feel like my equal partner.
One thing I wish Latine families would stop doing is assuming that because I don’t have children, I am not fulfilled. I am very fulfilled and love the life I have created for myself. They also seem to think that because women are the ones who can get pregnant and have children, they all just should. When parents only ask about having babies and not the career, love life, home, or anything else, what they are essentially doing is affirming that women are only valuable if we reproduce, and that’s insulting. I have felt wrong for being happier without children, and I am not alone. Many women over 30 also face the same scrutiny from families, especially Latinas or children of immigrants.
If I don’t become a mom, I will continue living my best life. There are nieces and nephews on deck for me to love. I can contribute to their lives, spend time with them, and take them on trips around the world if we want to. I am that tía, and I love it. Motherhood isn’t anything I would force. But this acceptance didn’t happen overnight, and I’m glad I thought it over. It took years of reflection and self-love to trust the timing of my life.
Cindy Y. Rodriguez has spent 17-plus years crafting powerful stories. One of her proudest achievements is hosting and producing the Webby-honored and Emmy-nominated five-part docuseries “Hay Dinero,” which offers practical financial planning tips for the Latine community and highlights the deep connection between culture and generational trauma. Cindy’s commitment to creating diverse and impactful content shines through in her work, especially when addressing topics like identity, culture, and race. Her work includes co-launching Vivala as well as HuffPost’s Latino Voices, and cofounding the award-nominated feminist podcast “Morado Lens,” which features conversations spanning sex, culture, and spirituality.