All I’ve ever wanted is to work hard for a better future. Growing up, I was raised by parents who struggled to set goals and provide for their children, so when I settled down, I knew I wanted a better life for my own family. To ensure my son has the best future possible, I had to give up any dreams of retirement.
At 27, my partner and I, newly married, decided to start our family. We checked all the boxes we thought would guarantee success: we attended college, secured stable jobs, and built savings before tying the knot in 2019. By then, I was so eager to become a parent that I already had a tote of baby clothes tucked away.
Back in 2019, I worked in technology as a hardware specialist for a local school district, while my partner was a teacher. Our rent was $1,150 for a three-bedroom house in a nice area. We felt financially secure and were ready to buy a home.
Then, in 2020, we discovered we were pregnant right as the pandemic shut everything down. I remembered how kids had been raised during the 2008 recession and thought this situation would be a temporary blip. However, weeks turned into months, and the pressure mounted. I had to leave my job as working in tech while pregnant became too demanding, forcing me to take on gig work as a writer I had never done before to maintain our finances. Finding basic supplies like wipes and diapers was increasingly difficult, and I felt guilty buying anything before our baby arrived.
My son was born in November 2020, ushering in some of the toughest years of our lives. Prices of essential items surged. Boise, Idaho, our hometown, became a hotspot, and our rent skyrocketed from $1,150 to $2,200 in just three years. Formula shortages turned every box into a luxury, and grocery prices spiked. Our hopes of purchasing a home quickly faded along with our savings.
Despite taking on extra work and giving up almost all enjoyable aspects of our lives, by 2024, we found ourselves living paycheck to paycheck. To cut costs, we kept my son home to avoid daycare expenses, but that meant isolating him from children his age. As summer approached, it became clear he needed preschool, yet no free options were available in Boise, and we were unsure how we’d afford tuition.
I filled out the paperwork to withdraw my retirement savings from my 401(k) in July 2024. Friends and family questioned my decision—didn’t I want to retire one day? I explained that my son’s future mattered more than my own, even if it meant I had to work until I could no longer.
Surprisingly, I don’t regret taking this step for my child’s preschool tuition. What weighs on me is knowing I can’t have more children. With only one savings fund, I recognized that depleting it for an additional baby wouldn’t be fair to my son or any future siblings.
I had always envisioned myself as a mother of many, dreaming of a bustling household. But with living costs soaring, I can’t make that dream a reality without compromising my son’s well-being. I wholeheartedly accept the sacrifices for him, yet navigating the grief of a life altered so dramatically has been challenging. I often ask myself, “What could I have done differently?”
Now, my goal is to provide everything I can for my son, hoping to give him a brighter future. I dream that as he steps into the world, it will be kinder and more secure, allowing him the comfort and opportunities we’ve lost. He deserves to dream big, and for me, that is far more important than retiring. It’s disheartening that so many parents find themselves in similar predicaments.