Earlier this year in May, while wishing my mother a happy Mother’s Day, she expressed her hope that I might share that sentiment one day. At the time, I was anxiously biting my nails, having injured my finger in the process. As I hurried to find a band-aid, the sounds of children laughing and playing outside filtered through the half-open window.

“Are you still there?” my mother asked.

“Yes, I’m here,” I quickly replied.

As a 28-year-old woman, I find myself grappling with reproductive anxiety. While I don’t want children immediately, the relentless passage of time makes me consider my future desires. Should I choose to have kids? If so, what kind of world will they inherit amid our climate crisis? Is it selfish to bring a child into such uncertainty? My mind races with questions: Will having children bring me joy, fulfill my parents' wishes, or stem from societal pressures? And in a world overwhelmed with people, how can it be ethical to create more?

Driving to see a friend, I was reminded of my past as Arcade Fire's "The Suburbs" played on the radio. The poignant lyrics stirred memories of my ex and our dreams of raising a family, prompting me to sing along to the haunting lines about wanting a daughter before the world changes irreparably.

The song evokes a sense of impending doom, a feeling that has only grown stronger. The urgency to share the beauty of our planet with future generations feels increasingly desperate.

Every day, the news and social media remind us of the climate crisis. The last decade has been the hottest in recorded history, with rising temperatures and alarming statistics about global warming largely resulting from human actions.

Living in Australia, I’ve observed firsthand the shifts in our seasons—later autumns, harsher yet shorter winters, early blooms in spring, and increasingly longer, hotter summers. Last summer, as my friend and I tried to enjoy the beach under record temperatures, the heat became unbearable. A couple of weeks later, I found the air thick with smoke from raging bushfires, a stark reminder of our new reality.

We’ve pushed our planet to its limits through habitat destruction, pollution, and overpopulation. The loss of biodiversity weighs heavily on my mind, especially when I consider the plight of species like the Ulysses butterfly, teetering on the brink of extinction due to climate change.

It’s painfully clear that our Earth is running out of its natural beauty and resources. I worry that bringing more children into this world would only exacerbate the challenges we face—wildfires, rising sea levels, and food scarcity.

As members of Generation Z and Millennials, we will witness the consequences of global warming firsthand. The recent wildfires in California echo the devastation of Australia’s Black Summer, a clear indicator that we cannot afford to ignore this crisis.

Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez stirred debate when she questioned whether it is acceptable to have children in light of the difficult future they might face.

The moral implications of choosing not to have children feel increasingly pressing. It seems like a desperate attempt to halt our downward spiral into environmental chaos. I can’t help but envision children suffering in harsh conditions, especially in less developed regions.

Scientists warn that to mitigate the effects of global warming, carbon emissions must significantly decrease by 2050. Yet, emissions per capita in Australia currently exceed acceptable levels. One study even suggested that not having a child could drastically reduce a parent's carbon footprint.

Should we consider having fewer children, or perhaps I should adopt pets instead of having kids? The latter option seemed amusing once, but now it feels like a bittersweet thought.

Despite these grim statistics, there are compelling reasons to consider parenthood. The complexities of this crisis are vast, and it's essential to remember that a significant portion of emissions stems from the wealthiest individuals, who generally have fewer children.

If we must hold someone accountable, shouldn't it be those causing the most harm? An anti-natalist viewpoint may seem defeatist. O'Reilly rightly points out that allowing climate concerns to dictate our reproductive choices feels like surrendering to a bleak future.

Addressing a global crisis requires collective action, not individual decisions about family planning. We need a focus on the systemic changes necessary to combat climate change rather than solely on reducing birth rates.

The root causes of this crisis—industrial activities, deforestation, and greenhouse gas emissions—need to be addressed. The challenge is monumental, requiring a shift in global political and cultural priorities.

At a recent “Fridays for Future” protest in Melbourne, I witnessed a diverse array of individuals, from schoolchildren to pregnant women, uniting for climate action. It was inspiring to see young people leading this movement, advocating for their future.

Dr. Beard emphasizes that discouraging parenthood could eliminate potential allies in the battle for a sustainable world.

In Australia, we are fortunate to make choices about parenthood. Despite my uncertainty, I feel an undeniable pull towards motherhood. I don’t want this desire to be stifled by fear or guilt.

Future generations hold the potential for meaningful change. As Senator Mike Less aptly stated, more people can lead to more innovation and solutions for significant challenges.

History has shown that even during dire circumstances, humanity continues to bring new life into the world. As I wrapped up my call with my mother, I paused to watch the children playing outside, hopeful for my future as a mother, if it is meant to be.