(Originally published in Conscience Magazine)
FOR AN OUTSIDER, US POLITICS around choice seem oddly divorced from  reality. At its most reductionist, choice in this country means merely  that a pregnant woman can choose to buy herself an abortion. In a  slightly more expansive line of argument, the cost and conditions  related to the medical procedure are considered as limitations to  choice. But rarely does the debate critically examine the other aspect  of choice: whether actually having a child is viable, financially and  professionally.
To me, this is the crux of the matter. I have never questioned  that women are entitled to free and legal abortion as part of a  continuum of necessary health care. But I believe it is tragic when  women choose to terminate pregnancies they would have continued if  society had provided them with the necessary support. But what would  that support look like?
In Latin America there is a popular saying: "Every newborn  comes to the world with a loaf of bread in their hand." Anyone who has  ever looked at the cost of childrearing knows that this is not true.  Apart from the basic supplies such as diapers, food and housing,  children need care and education. At a minimum, women and children need  access to prenatal health care, childbirth facilities with trained staff  and infant health care. And there is a time issue too. Women need time  off to give birth, and parents need to spend time with their children,  to care for them when they are sick and to participate actively in their  rearing and education generally.
The United States provides few legal protections for any of  these--largely uncontested--needs. There is no law to guarantee paid  sick leave or vacation, and as a result half of the US workforce must  pay for their own sick days, and 20 percent for their time off for  vacation.
There is no law to protect paid maternity leave, and there are  no allowances for time off to breastfeed. Federal law affords 12 weeks  of unpaid extended sick leave to be used as parental leave, and only for  those who are eligible, which excludes about 40 percent of American  workers.
There are no general provisions for health care--not even, in most  states, for children. Today, some 8.7 million children in the US have no  health insurance.
Childcare options are mostly private, at least until the child  is four years old, and private infant-care options are limited. "The  infant-care shortage in this country is amazing," says Veronica Arrealo,  co-chair of the Now Mothers/Caregivers Economic Rights Committee. "As  soon as that pregnancy test comes in with two lines, the first call you  should be making really is to the infant-care facility, because it is  generally about a nine-month wait to get a slot."
Money and time are probably two of the main concerns of those  thinking of expanding their families. In most high-income countries,  public policies recognize and support that. A 2008 publication from the  Institute for Women's Policy Research (IWPR) in Washington, compares  legislative frameworks on these issues in high-income countries to the  United States, and looks briefly at their impact on key equality  indicators. (Ariane Hegewisch and Janet C. Gornick, "Statutory Routes to  Workplace Flexibility in Cross-National Perspective," Institute for  Women's Policy Research, 2008)
The contrasts are sharp. In all countries examined--Australia,  Austria, Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Finland, France, Germany, Greece,  Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Portugal,  Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, the United Kingdom and the United  States--only the United States does not provide for paid parental leave.  Most allow the right to a gradual return to work on a part-time basis.  Many countries entitle parents to tailor the parental leave to their  needs, with options such as taking the leave in one block with an  allowance, or working part-time over a longer period; reducing the  working day during a set time period or extending the paid leave period  into unpaid leave, with job guarantees.
Not surprisingly, parents in these other high-income countries  tend to spend more time with their children. Ariane Hegewisch, one of  the authors of the IWPR report, notes that the proportion of married  couples with children in the United States who work 80 hours a week or  more is twice as high as in the next European country. "The question of  choice really is a question of whether you have time to combine work  with having a family," she says, "which is not really something you have  in the United States."
Legislative protections for paid parental leave and part-time  options, in fact, have a direct impact on women's choices because they  don't force women to "choose" between being a mother and being a  professional. The IWPR study shows that women with college degrees in  the United States are less likely to have paid employment than women in  any of the other 20 surveyed countries, implying at least in part that  where more legislative protections are in place, more women get to take  advantage of their education in formal employment.
What is perhaps less well-known is that many lower-income countries  have much stronger legal protections for paid parental leave and  options than the United States. Costa Rican and Salvadoran law, for  example, provides for three months leave after an infant is born, at 80  percent and 75 percent pay respectively. Most Latin American countries  require employers to allow breastfeeding mothers the time and physical  space to nurse their children generally for at least a year after  childbirth. And paid vacation and sick leave are protected by law almost  everywhere in the region.
Having parental rights protections enshrined in law is no  guarantee of time and support. For one thing, the protections are  generally linked to continuous, fulltime employment, which has always  been more common for men than for women. Perhaps more importantly, more  and more workers--men and women alike--find themselves in more  precarious situations, in part-time or temporary contracts, or are  otherwise excluded from the statutory provisions that might protect  their choices.
But in terms of societal understanding and support of  parenting, the question is not to what extent legal protections are  properly implemented, but rather if they exist at all. Few would contest  that time and quality child- and health-care options are necessary for  good parenting. The question is who we, as a society, believe should pay  for them. It is this societal understanding of parenting  responsibilities that is expressed in the law.
In the United States, the main cost of childrearing falls to  the individual family or woman, because, in general, Americans think of  parenting exclusively as a personal choice whereas European and Latin  Americans do not. This fundamental difference in the way people think  about children and families is what determines what real choice means.
Paradoxically, it may be precisely the culturally ingrained respect  for seemingly free individual choices in the United States, without  reference to contextual limitation such as money and time, which has led  to a lack of political support for legally sanctioned parenting  options. In her book, The Price of Motherhood, former New York Times  writer Ann Crittenden exposes the myth of choice as one of the main  reasons for the prevailing "hands-off parenting" policies in the United  States: "The sidelined ambitions, the compromises mothers live with that  their husbands never had to make, all justified on the grounds of  women's choice ... It's their choice. No one 'made them do it,' so no  one has to do anything about it."
But if you dig a bit deeper, perhaps the real opposition or  political discomfort with regard to the provision of childcare and  parental work flexibility options in the United States is linked to  perceptions of who is seen to benefit from a stronger support network.  And this, again, is closely related to how welfare policies and  parenting choices are covered in the mainstream media.
Consider the case of Nadya Suleman. Ms. Suleman, already a  mother of six children under the age of 7, gave birth to octuplets in  January 2009 after in-vitro fertilization. Ms. Suleman's octuplets were  the second full set of octuplets to be born alive in the United States  and the birth was newsworthy because of that.
What is interesting is that the media coverage about the case, in  particular as expressed in opinion pages and editorials, pits choice  against choice. For some, Ms. Suleman is seen as epitomizing "good  motherhood," making a disinterested choice to continue a multiple  pregnancy that could have seriously and permanently damaged her health.  For others, her choice is based on individual greed and an alleged  desire to leech on society by having children she clearly can't afford  to feed, clothe and house without support.
In contrast, the explicit reasoning behind European welfare  policies that affect parental choice is rarely individual. Often, there  is reference to a broader macroeconomic argument--that all economies  need to produce the next generation of workers. At times, this argument  is expressed as nationalism or poorly veiled racism: one way to reverse  falling birth rates and prevent diversity in the workforce is to promote  parenting through tax breaks, work-time flexibility and childcare  options.
Interestingly, though, many of the basic parental support  policies in Europe such as paid sick leave, paid paternity leave and  caps on work hours precede the falling birthrates in the 1990s, and the  corresponding concern with population composition and growth.  Commentators link the motivation for these policy changes to a European  notion of collective responsibility and to industry-wide union  organizing that focused on establishing a social floor through permanent  legislation instead of, as in the United States, through bilateral  contractual obligations that can be and often are renegotiated in times  of economic difficulties.
Which brings us back to the overwhelming American focus on  individuality, and the resulting limited understanding of parenting as  separate from a national interest in the new generation. Women's  organizations in the United States have, in fact, long challenged the  notion of Americans as naturally individualist. "I struggle with the  word 'choice'," says Erin Mahoney, chair of the Women's Liberation  Social Wage Committee. "When we emphasize the individual choice of  parenting, we take away the fact that we, as women, are doing real work  to rebuild society. Every child that's raised in this country is the  next mailman, the next nurse. It's not the responsibility of individual  women to do that work alone."
There have been times in American history where the national  interest has superseded individualism, with direct consequences for the  provision of childcare. In the 1930s, the federal government sponsored  nursery schools under the Works Progress Administration program, which  was expanded to cover daycare as a war-time necessity during World War  II. Even now, women employed by the US military enjoy access to legally  mandated quality childcare, a provision that, to a large extent, was  motivated by a need to maintain trained personnel and prevent turnover  in the military in the interest of national security.
Generally, though, in the United States children remain the  exclusive concern and responsibility of their parents. And choice  remains a codeword for legal but often inaccessible abortion services.  Logically, one would therefore expect women in the United States to  choose to have smaller families than in Europe. This is not the case.  Though the birthrate has been declining in the United States, it remains  higher than in most European countries. In fact, Japan and about 20  countries in Central and Eastern Europe are experiencing negative  population growth (when we exclude the impact of immigration and  emigration).
"The central question is why people continue to have children when  it is so hard," muses Ariane Hegewisch. "And conversely, there is no  evidence that everyone in Europe has 16 kids, just because they can."
One reason may be that while politics in the United States is  traditionally unconcerned with women and equality, children are, at  least in political rhetoric, a strong motivator for change. Just  recently, the corporate bailouts and economic rescue plan, while  seemingly inconsistent with American individualism, have been justified  by reference to the next generation.
Perhaps the policies that protect women's choices as mothers  would be more palatable to American policymakers and to the public at  large if they were articulated as necessary for children. "When you deny  support to mothers, you punish the children," says Hegewisch. Veronica  Arreola from now agrees: "All of the things we advocate for: childcare,  infant care, health care, sick leave, etc. All are things that, when it  comes right down to it, are about caring for our children."
In my experience interviewing hundreds of women about their  childbearing choices, access to safe and legal abortion is the end  rather than the beginning of that choice. Women talk to me about food  for their children, time to play and concern with paying for their  children's education. They talk about expensive birth control and  childcare and about limited healthcare options. They talk about how  difficult it is to decide when and if to become a mother. And they talk  about abortion as an option where other options have failed. Public  policy on choice should reflect all of these essential concerns.