You’re not ready to become a mother. I wasn’t “ready” when I became one at 29. I definitely wasn’t ready to be married at 22, either. Happily, I did it all anyway. And then I watched as I steadily grew into these roles, finding my footing with a little grace, a lot of missteps, and more joy than I would’ve ever expected. For this, I’m probably an anomaly — and definitely not a good feminist, according to The New York Times, which on Friday published its latest article about the precipitous decline in the U.S. birthrate. The framing was predictable: this is a good thing, insisted the gaggle of childless twenty-something women interviewed for the piece, because it means women are finally waiting until they’re “ready” to have children. The most obvious first rebuttal to this argument are the statistics on marriage, motherhood, and happiness. According to the Institute for Family Studies (IFS), the happiest young women in America are married moms, and it’s not close. And the longer women wait to marry and have children, the less likely they’ll be able to reach those milestones — socially and biologically. Recent IFS research indicates that women’s odds of having children fall dramatically after they turn 30. But the deeper issue with framing the debate over falling birthrates as a feminist win is the suggestion that anyone is ever “ready” to become a mother. By today’s cultural standard — what Brad Wilcox has called the “Midas Mindset” — the term “ready” usually has capitalist connotations. It’s defined by having a certain income, reaching a certain level of professional success, or having racked up enough life experiences, like traveling and dating around before settling down. Indeed, the women interviewed by the Times — the young marketing student who regrets having to care for her siblings while her mom hustled to make ends meet; the recent grad who wants to build her career first; and the gym employee who “enjoys the [childless] peace” with her husband — are all under the impression that being ready for kids is primarily a logistical and financial proposition. But if this standard were real, we should expect there to come a moment in most women’s lives when they’ve reached some or all of these benchmarks, prompting them to wake up and suddenly find they’re ready to become mothers. But that’s not what’s happening. Because that’s not how any of this works. The women featured in the Times seem to believe that becoming a mother is something they can accurately imagine ahead of time. They believe it’s an endeavor that will someday fit into pictures of their lives they’ve already painted. The problem is that motherhood doesn’t lend itself to that kind of logic. There is no analog to having children by which women (or men, for that matter) can ever really make an informed decision not to do it. That would be like saying, “I’ve looked at this from every possible angle, and I’ve decided not to live on Mars.” To say such a thing would be to have no actual idea what we’re choosing or not choosing. What many of the women interviewed by the Times don’t seem to understand is that to become a mom is to fundamentally change. A woman in her early twenties can look at the prospect of motherhood as if it were simply another life choice. She might think “maybe I’ll move to another city,” or “maybe I’ll break up with my boyfriend,” and she can pretty fairly imagine what those experiences would be like, because she’d still be herself when or if they happened. But to contemplate motherhood as the same sort of question is a category error. Because when she becomes a mom, she will change so fundamentally that she, frankly, has no business making decisions today on behalf of that stranger. That probably explains why childless women who try to defend their decision tend to overestimate the hard parts of motherhood and wildly underestimate the wonderful parts. Rose Paz, a young college student who spoke to the Times, said she doesn’t want to have kids right now because it would be a financial struggle, and she remembers the painful experience of watching her own parents stress out over money. I can empathize with that fear, and it’s true that below poverty, motherhood can be a daily crisis. But if Ms. Paz is imagining some future point in her life in which she won’t feel stressed about money — that is, I’m sorry to say, a fundamental misunderstanding of both stress and money. Life just doesn’t work that way, and motherhood has nothing to do with it. Another woman, a social demographer, told the Times that the falling birthrate is a “success story” because women are finally making sure they have their “lives in order” before having kids. “We spent decades shaming women for having kids under the wrong circumstances, for not having their ducks in a row… now they are holding up their end of the bargain,” she said. Certainly, no woman should ever be shamed for having a child; much less a woman whose deadbeat partner has chosen to abandon her to single motherhood. But the social stigma on teen and single motherhood was never really about women having kids when they were poor; it was about women having kids when they weren’t married. These supposedly empowered women claiming to have taken back control of their own lives aren’t talking about making sure a man commits to them before having babies; they’re talking about making enough money. Again, that’s not the right perspective. The happiest women in America are married moms. Past a certain level of basic material security, the hardships of parenthood aren’t really mitigated by more money, because they’re much deeper and much more existential than the merely financial. They are mitigated by marriage, though. And that’s because, just as it takes a man and a woman to make a baby, it also takes a man and a woman to raise a baby. It turns out, the best parts of marriage and motherhood have nothing to do with money, either. In my experience, they are surprising and unscripted. The best parts are finding your babies in bed, reading under the covers with a flashlight. It’s when they say “ex-shepally” when they mean “especially.” It’s watching their hair grow wild and curly. It’s catching them being kind to a young stranger. It’s seeing yourself care more about them than your own comfort, when you hadn’t really known that was possible. I’m almost 40 now, with two young daughters and a marriage going on 17 years. I can’t imagine a deeper source of both vulnerability and joy than this family of mine. I can reasonably imagine what life would have been like if I hadn’t gotten married young. I remember what it was like to travel alone, to answer to no one but myself, to sleep in on Saturdays, and to pee in solitude. Women who haven’t married or had children, however, don’t have the same insight into their own what-ifs. They may really believe that not having children during their healthiest childbearing years is the path toward their deepest happiness. But they don’t know it, and they’re almost certainly wrong. From a Christian perspective, I believe this is why God made childbearing something totally outside our control. The hard things in life are usually the very best things, but most of us don’t have the strength, on our own, to choose the hard things. Young women should get married and have babies anyway. They’ll see — I mean this literally — exactly what I mean. Maria Baer is a contributing writer at the Institute for Family Studies and co-host of the Breakpoint podcast with The Colson Center for Christian Worldview. The views expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.