THIS is why you won't see me wearing a baby Bjorn for another decade or two:

Canadians aren’t having enough babies, according to Stats Canada. We need to rely on an eager immigration program to keep our numbers up.
Not all Canadians are abstaining from child-raising — statistics indicate lower income families (and the poorest single women) are in fact reproducing at a more than sufficient pace. But when it comes to the people the government and economists say should be encouraged to have kids — educated, financially stable and working Canadians — the figures show a decline.
If this trend continues, we’ll have more poor and fewer wealthy to support them. This, my friends, is not a good forecast. Something needs to change — but that something is a complex issue, and not one I imagine will budge unless serious and drastic steps are taken.
There was a good and thought-provoking editorial in the Ottawa Citizen a few months back that dealt with the issue of Canadian birth rates. The more productive, prosperous Canadians aren’t reproducing nearly enough, the columnist explained, while the poorest Canadians are increasing in numbers like nobody’s business. How they (or social services) will support these children is another issue — one the column didn’t really address. (and that very worthwhile and controversial rant is one for another day.)
This afternoon, I want to focus on the former issue, that of the career-minded, professional Canadian women and her lack of baby making.
This issue is a hot-button issue, and no matter how hard one might try, it’s impossible to discuss it effectively without crossing the politically correct line a time or two. But as a 20-something female of this great country, I am hereby authorizing myself to cross it.
See, I am one of those educated and increasingly financially-stable, working Canadian women who *should* be getting ready to have a baby in a few years. But sorry, Mom, it ain’t gonna happen. For several reasons. And for once, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in my thinking.
First, there’s money. It costs money to buy diapers, feed extra mouths, and finance all the other stuff parents need to finance. In this materialistic and costly world we live in, it isn’t easy for people in their 20s to comfortably state “yes, I have enough money to finance a life.” Personally, I feel the need to buy a house and make some payments before taking that step. And then there’s the issue of work: will my employer finance maternity leave? I’m on a contract, so no way. And while my partner is full time and working on a federal government project, he doesn’t get any real benefits to speak of. If we were to become pregnant, we’d be in trouble.
Second reason babies are not the best idea that has crossed my mind in recent days is the simple fact that motherhood can sabotage an otherwise promising career. As a fairly recent grad, I am still at the bottom of the corporate totem pole. I have a ways left to climb, and if I were to suddenly find myself up the duff, I’d likely find myself back at square one in 9 months time.
In many industries, child bearing can nullify years spent climbing the corporate ladder. If you’re in a high-power role, you can’t just disappear for a year or two to pop jr. out — your company will notice you’re gone. Temporary replacement? Sure — but that costs the company both time and money. Suddenly the decision to hire a female sales VP doesn’t look like such a great idea. Female employees become more expensive, and less desirable.
A friend of mine has a toddler and admits she will have a second sometime soon — but that soon is going to have to wait. Why? Her employer just spent $7000 to train her, and she feels obligated to complete the term she’s committed to (two years) before announcing her need for time off to become a mummy a second time.
And you know what? I don’t think she made the wrong decision. In the grand scheme of things, it is the responsible choice: if she were to “accidentally” find herself pregnant a year into her two-year contract, how pleased would her employer be? And more importantly, how likely would they be to give the position to a women a second time? Like it or not, the reality would be the memory of “said-she-would-but-ditched-half-way-through” would be fresh in the minds of whoever was hiring for the position during round two.
Women have a responsibility to one another to not exploit our gender. In the same way we don’t call in sick every month citing “cramps,” we have to hold our own. My friend knows this. Add to it that she works in a male-dominated industry, and the pressure to succeed and prove herself (and her fellow female colleagues) as worthy and very-worthwhile employees becomes even more present.
Should she have to choose between work and her family? Of course not. But as she told me herself, “It isn’t fair, but we don’t live in a fair world.” She has accepted the situation for what it is, and has acted accordingly.
Will her fertility hold out? Who knows. Hopefully. But that magic number— 35 — will be in the rear view mirror after the two-year term is complete. Despite the popular proclamation that “35 is the new 25,” fertility doesn’t listen to societal trends. But it’s a risk my friend is willing to take — but the possibility of fertility or other problems must linger somewhere in the back of her mind.
This woman is a shining example of balance, having been able to, along with her husband, successfully negotiate the scale between work and raising a family. But others aren’t so lucky.
Some women have made the decision not to have children. And that’s totally fine — there are fewer more personal decisions one can make (and respect). But why all of a sudden do we not want kids?
The simplified answer is we’re selfish: we want to live a social life, the ability to travel to exotic locales, and to not have to commit to much. Freedom is big right now — financial freedom, personal freedom, whatever. But beyond these lifestyle choices, women are also putting work before family, figuring kids simply are not a desirable option — and if that option is exercised, life (and work) will become significantly more difficult.
I asked the columnist who wrote the Citizen editorial about birthrates what he thought about the issue, and he told me an interesting story. He said when he went to his university reunion, of all his graduating class — which enjoyed a 50/50 male/female split — only 2 or 3 of the women had started a family. The other women just didn’t want children, he said.
That made me think.
Did they not want kids, or did they just know they couldn’t; that it would be self-inflicted professional sabotage, so they subconsciously removed kids from the list of possibilities?
I don’t know for sure, and there’s no real way to know. I’m not a psychologist, sociologist, or any sort of statistical magician. But the fact that a lot of smart women are choosing not to have kids is not a coincidence —and unless we figure out a way to encourage working moms to be just that (without causing massive economic slowdowns or industry backlash) the trend will continue.