(...) Again
and again over the last few decades, we have seen prominent “experts”
arguing that children will not be significantly harmed by divorce, by
two parents pursuing time-consuming careers, by single or by same-sex
parenting. Over time, as children start to grow and reveal the scars of
their displacement and neglect, this advice is exposed as the wishful
thinking it always was. But the process of manufacturing false
reassurances (“Do what you want! The kids will be fine!”) continues
because, to the modern mind, it is simply galling to accept that it may
really be necessary to give up cherished goals or preferred lifestyles
for the sake of the next generation.If only we could plan things better, fecundaphobes suppose, we could achieve a harmonious world in which children grew up happily with no serious inconvenience to anyone. A society that can build atom bombs and manufacture widgets by the millions must surely be able to escape from the drudgery of child-rearing.
At its root, fecundaphobia is the fear of that burden. If pro-life Catholics like Philip Rivers can have seven children and still be functional and respected members of society, that proves that such things are possible. It suggests that perhaps the morally responsible course is to make the sacrifices and shoulder the load, as our forebears did for centuries. This possibility is distasteful in the extreme, so fecundaphones reassure themselves people who have large families must not be serious about the responsibilities of parenthood. They must not appreciate that the children they bear are moral, rational beings. They’re more like animals really, breeding thoughtlessly and without regard for the consequences.
Would it help if we spoke more about the burdens, as well as the blessings, of family life? I sometimes wonder whether, in our eagerness to reassure the skeptical world that we are happy and fulfilled, Catholic parents inadvertently lend support to the idea that we aren’t even aware of the trials and the missed opportunities. We probably never wanted to do anything but change diapers. We just don’t need as much sleep as normal people.
Rivers strikes a good balance in his reply to ESPN’s nosy question:
It’s a two-year rotation: Once the diapers come off of one, we usually have a newborn. And we have another one on the way, due in October. I help when I can, but my wife, Tiffany, is the key. My big, growing family keeps everything balanced and grounded. My oldest is 11 now, and the kids are getting into football. They’re Daddy’s biggest fans, and they don’t get on you as bad as most fans. If you throw an interception, they still love you.Well said, Mr. Rivers. Acknowledge the burdens. Express appreciation for spousal efforts. Then talk about the blessings, and make sure everyone understands that big families, just like small ones, are ultimately held together by love. When Rivers eventually retires, as every superstar must, will we be opening the newspaper to stories about him crashing sports cars or experimenting with drugs? I’m guessing not.
Get help, fecundaphobes. Our society does indeed have problems, but excessive enthusiasm for parenthood isn’t one of them.