To have or not to have? Wrestling with the child question

Prem vividly remembers the exact moment she decided she did not want children. She was in the fourth grade when her mother, in a moment of anger, blamed her for being “the reason she was stuck in an unhappy marriage.” That sentence lingered. Over time, it shaped Prem’s belief that “children worsen lives”. Today, at 31, she and her husband have chosen to remain child-free. Her reasons are layered: a lack of healthy parenting models, a desire to break cycles of intergenerational trauma, and ongoing health concerns such as long Covid and anxiety.

“To have or not to have?” has become the modern dilemma for many millennials and Gen Z adults navigating relationships and marriage. In a country like India, where family and lineage have long been central, parenthood was once considered inevitable. Today, however, that assumption is being questioned. Increasingly, young couples are reclaiming the decision to have children as a conscious, personal choice rather than a prescribed life milestone.

Demographic data reflects this shift. India’s Total Fertility Rate (TFR) has declined to around 1.9–2.0, down from 3.4 in 1992, according to 2023-25 data from the National Family Health Survey-5 and a UNFPA (United Nations Population Fund) study. While factors such as education, urbanisation, delayed marriages, and access to contraception play a role, they do not fully explain the trend.

According to Bengaluru-based psychotherapist Prarthana Pai, conversations around parenthood are becoming more intentional. Gen Z appears more open to embracing a child-free identity, while millennials often find themselves conflicted, caught between desire and doubt. What is significant, however, is that both groups are engaging in dialogue. Parenthood is no longer an unquestioned instinct; it is a deliberate, reflective decision evaluated through ethical, environmental, and practical lenses.

The environmentalists

For many, prioritising the planet over lineage is an environmental decision, a refusal to contribute to the already burgeoning global population and carbon footprint. Sandhya Shankararraman, a biotech scientist, decided not to add to the looming environmental crisis. “The challenges and issues I see in the world around me helped me validate the choice of not having my own biological children. However, I’m open to raising adopted children; this way I wouldn’t be bringing a life into this world but helping a life that is already here,” she says.

This environmental consciousness is echoed in academic spaces as well. Deepti Chatti, an Assistant Professor of Climate Justice at the University of San Diego, California, observes that her students are increasingly aware of how personal decisions intersect with global crises. While teaching Climate Anxiety and the Kid Question by Jade S Sasser, she notes that many young people experience “reproductive anxiety” — a hesitation shaped by environmental fears and existential uncertainty. For them, the decision to have a child is not just personal, but political and ecological.

The moral objectors

Ukraine. Gaza. Sudan. And now Iran. For others, the hesitation is moral. In 2024, conflicts in these regions caused record child deaths. Many couples now feel it is a moral hazard to bring a child into a world defined by sudden conflicts and nuclear instability. Some believe that abstaining from parenthood is an ethical necessity.

Vinitha Mokshagundam, a former history professor, and her husband reflect this perspective. Living on a self-sustaining farm on the Karnataka-Tamil Nadu border, surrounded by trees and crops they chose to plant, and five adopted dogs, the couple felt the question was simple: why create a new life when one could care for a life already in need of a home? They filed for adoption three years ago and are still waiting for the call.

Yet, not all narratives align with restraint. Benita Chacko, a journalist and new mother, chose to have a child because she did not want to miss out on what she describes as a “life-altering experience.” It has been a year since her son was born, and she describes parenting as an emotional rollercoaster of unconditional love: “Knowing that someone can love you so much even when you are failing and falling.” At the same time, she acknowledges moments of guilt, especially in the face of global crises. Ironically, despite being a journalist, she consciously distances herself from distressing news in an effort to preserve her mental well-being.

The free spirits

The rise of DINK (Double Income, No Kids) households reflects a desire for autonomy and flexibility. Being child-free offers the freedom to travel, relocate for work, or live spontaneously.

S M Anand, a professional sitar player and teacher, and his wife exemplify this choice. They have chosen independence over parenthood, focusing on their artistic pursuits and caring for their pets. “It’s a combination of other reasons as well, like not bringing a child into a social media-obsessed, opinionated world. It is also unnecessarily too expensive when it comes to education and health. Animals seem to need more support and homes,” Anand adds.

Similarly, Anisha Menon, an architect in Bengaluru, feels that parenting does not align with her temperament or aspirations. “Also, my younger sister is ten years younger than I am, and I have always mothered her. It’s only now, when she is in her late twenties, that our relationship has evolved into friendship. Maybe caring for a younger sibling has satiated my need to nurture,” she says. The architect couple are parents to a dog and four cats.

Interestingly, many child-free couples are pet parents, raising questions about the human need to nurture. However, Prarthana Pai believes nurturing is not purely biological but socially conditioned. She argues that the expectation that women must become mothers is deeply ingrained and often plays out in ways women are not consciously aware of.

Timing and circumstances

With greater access to health information and increased awareness of genetic and developmental conditions, many young people are more cautious about parenthood. Fear of passing on hereditary conditions and concerns around mental health have also influenced decisions. For others, the absence of a supportive partner is a decisive factor.

Pranoti Pawar’s experience reflects this complexity. “I have always wanted kids. But a divorce at 32 and a diagnosis of an autoimmune condition at 36 hindered my plans. Therefore, my search for a partner and dating in my 30s meant I missed the right window.” The engineer-turned-yoga practitioner in Bengaluru has come to terms with her health and remains open to parenthood, but she recognises that timing and circumstance have altered her path.

The male heir question

Despite these evolving perspectives, in many parts of India, the desire for a male heir remains strong. Fertility clinics have proliferated across towns and cities, offering solutions to couples willing to invest significant financial resources in having children.

Chennai-based Dr S Nallaperumal, who specialises in gestational diabetes, recounts the case of a 58-year-old man who wanted another child, specifically a male child, after losing his 18-year-old son to suicide. Unable to cope with grief, the man pressured his wife to conceive again despite her having attained menopause. While doctors dissuaded him from endangering his wife’s health, the man remained relentless. Encouraged by IVF clinics across the city that made grand promises, he ventured into hormone therapy and other expensive treatments until he finally had a baby boy. His declaration, “My son has been reborn”, reveals the deep cultural weight attached to lineage and legacy.

At the same time, many parents who have chosen to have children describe the experience as transformative. Beyond the challenges, they speak of personal growth, resilience, and adaptability. Pooja Swaminathan, a teacher, reflects that parenthood has reshaped her perspective on life’s difficulties. “For starters, I am less likely to throw myself under a bus now,” she chuckles. Problems that once seemed overwhelming now appear manageable. “I think I am so caught up in the nitty-gritty of raising a child every day and every year, that I have stopped overthinking about other things.” For her, parenting has accelerated emotional maturity and strengthened her capacity to cope.

Does the “learning curve” of parenthood accelerate maturity, or does wisdom arrive naturally with age regardless of parental status? “Parenting isn’t the only route to maturity,” argues Prarthana Pai. She believes personal growth stems from how people handle life’s challenges — illness, caring for ageing parents, career loss, and emotional upheaval — regardless of parental status. While raising children provides a clear structure for growth, child-free living offers its own milestones, often centred on self-directed growth and making intentional, long-term connections.

The endgame

Yet, the question of regret lingers on both sides of the debate. Do child-free individuals regret their decision later in life? Do parents ever wish they had chosen differently? The answers are rarely straightforward.

Prarthana Pai notes that many of her patients avoid confronting regret directly, often rationalising their choices as a coping mechanism. Anonymous internet forums, however, offer more candid responses. “Do you regret not having a child?” is a frequently asked question on the womenover30 and womenover40 subreddits. While many admit to enjoying being the “hip aunt” more than “dealing with tantrums and a lack of privacy”, occasional responses express grief over not finding the right partner, “missing the window”, or dealing with everyday loneliness. In such threads, reluctant parents who regret having children also open up.

Having children may not be a foolproof retirement plan, given the increasing number of senior citizens in old-age homes, but studies show that urban loneliness is a growing epidemic. A global market research survey found that 43% of urban Indians report feeling lonely most of the time, placing India among the top three countries in terms of loneliness. This raises questions about the long-term emotional implications of remaining child-free.

In other parts of the world, unconventional coping mechanisms have emerged. The rise of ‘Reborn’ dolls — hyper-realistic baby dolls — highlights the complex ways in which individuals seek comfort and connection. ‘Reborn’ dolls first emerged in the 1990s and have since evolved into a global phenomenon, embraced both by art collectors and “reborn mothers” seeking comfort after loneliness, child loss, infertility, and anxiety. The premier ‘reborn’ doll event in the Netherlands, ‘The Big Event’, is one of the world’s largest doll and teddy bear fairs, where women can be seen carrying their ‘Reborns’ in slings, pushing them in prams, and buying accessories. Zoe Miller, a 50-year-old artist, advocate, and empty-nester, supports ‘Reborn’ therapy, especially after her children left home and she had to grapple with a Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis alone.

As one anonymous voice on the internet aptly puts it, “It is better to regret not having children than to regret having them.” Regret, like choice, is deeply personal and often unpredictable. Deepti Chatti, who is also the mother of a toddler, reflects: “You don’t miss what you don’t know. I was perfectly happy before I became a parent, and I am perfectly happy as a parent.” Her words capture the essence: happiness is not confined to a single path. In the end, whether to have a child or not is an act of self-interest, not in a negative sense, but rather as an honest attempt to live authentically and responsibly.

'Who will pay the fees?'

Concerned over declining fertility rates, the governments of Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu are encouraging young couples to have more children. In Andhra Pradesh, Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu has proposed financial incentives, including ₹40,000 for a third child and ₹30,000 for a fourth, in an attempt to counter a shrinking workforce and its potential impact on economic growth.

Tamil Nadu’s concern, however, is more political than economic. Former Chief Minister M K Stalin had urged families to expand, warning that future parliamentary delimitation based on population could reduce the state’s representation. 

Young couples have responded with humour and memes online. Social media spaces were flooded with sarcastic replies asking, “Who will pay the fees?” Many questioned whether the state government would sponsor private school fees, rent, and diapers for these additional children. Others pointed out the irony of being told to reverse course. For decades, Tamil Nadu aggressively promoted small families through the highly successful “Naam Iruvar, Namakku Iruvar” (We two, ours two) campaign, which many young people grew up believing was their civic duty. They argue that political challenges should be resolved through policy and constitutional measures, not by urging citizens to alter deeply personal life choices.