Kids Are the New Quiet Luxury

And very few of us can afford them

A few months ago, sometime in my second trimester, I told a good friend I was pregnant.

“I finally feel ready, I think…” I wrote, the ellipses masking all my undisclosed anxiety. Then, I reverted the question to her, knowing that she and her husband had been on the fence about having a second child as well, something we had mulled over many a boozy lunch. “How about you guys?”

“We would love to as well, but it doesn’t seem realistic anytime in the near future, unless we more or less double our income,” she wrote, a refreshingly honest answer in today’s bullshit-fueled world.

The minute I read those words, I felt like somebody had popped the angst-filled balloon that had been keeping me up at night, calculating our upcoming monthly expenses and wondering how the hell we were going to make it all work. While it’s not something I like to admit, money was part of the reason I had initially doubted my desire for a second child. While I knew we could technically afford it, the financial implications of adding another kid would push us out of our cushy comfort zone and directly into the realm of budgets and trade-offs, two words I’m inherently terrified of. Now that we had taken the leap, we were soon to find ourselves neck-deep in bills, ranging from additional insurance to full-time childcare to a much higher rent. Considering that we live in one of the most expensive zip codes in America, there was bound to be very little left over.

After I unloaded all of this to my friend, she opened up about her situation as well, explaining that childcare for her two-year-old was costing her thousands of dollars, along with part-time preschool, rent, car payments, and myriad other expenses. At the same time, having a child hadn’t allowed her and her husband to focus as much time on their longstanding business, which had led to a slowdown that was impacting their finances. We went back and forth, exchanging grievances over how expensive it is to raise children in today’s America, particularly in cities like Miami and Los Angeles, where private schools start at 36K a year, a 2K birthday party budget is the base minimum, and toddler extracurriculars can run you over 1k a month (hello, private swim lessons!)

“Forget Loro Piana—kids are the new quiet luxury!” said my friend at some point in our conversation, one of the most brilliant things I’d heard in a long time (later reaffirmed by this reel). Indeed, in the aforementioned 1% cities, the real sign that you’re loaded isn’t casually donning a The Row tote as your mom bag. It’s having three children and providing them with private school education and international travel, while not constantly stressing about money, and even occasionally buying shoes at (gasp!) retail. That kind of “comfort” usually either entails a seven-digit income, or a secret stash of undivulged family money as a supplement. (Speaking of which, New York magazine recently ran an eye-opening article about the Boomer money that drives many of Manhattan’s affluent lifestyles.)

Before we proceed, it’s important that I check myself and acknowledge that I’m undoubtedly speaking from a privileged bubble where “bare minimum” expenses include things such as tutors and private childcare. At the same time, it’s impossible to deny that, even for people with a high income, the base cost of life in America is very expensive, with little help from the government that would somewhat alleviate the challenges of raising children. While the grass is always greener, I can’t help but experience a twinge of envy when I look at my European friends, and the ease with which they are having multiple kids. Between free healthcare, government-subsidized crèche, and easyJet-fueled travel, the difference between raising one and two children in Paris is not significant enough for a couple to sacrifice something they desire so badly.

Here in the U.S., on the other hand, parenthood is starting to feel increasingly transactional, with every decision carrying a steep price tag. It’s not just about expanding your family; it’s about calculating the cost of said expansion, and deciding what you’re willing to sacrifice in return. Will we ever ball out during birthday season, or will tuition and childcare gobble up all our supplementary income? Will we be able to start investing again, or will every dollar be accounted for? Many couples I know are delaying having a second child because they can't imagine affording a larger home at today's mortgage rates, managing two private school tuitions (a casual $110K a year in NYC), or traveling internationally as a family of four at 1K a ticket. Having a second child has become a luxury, a privilege, a financial risk that many don’t feel equipped to take.

At the same time, it feels like a uniquely 2025 trapping, embodied by a generation of people who spent years living solely for themselves and are used to an accompanying level of comfort. (And, it’s important to add, have no choice but to have kids back-to-back for timing reasons alone.) Most of our parents didn’t sit around debating the financial implications of having more children. They certainly weren’t brainwashed by Instagram feeds filled with color-coordinated nurseries and influencer moms “effortlessly” juggling it all in head-to-toe Toteme. They lived in a simpler world where kids went to public school, were raised by grandparents, and shared rooms up until they went off to university. I often catch myself wondering if we’ve overcomplicated it all, and the financial anxiety is just a symptom of living in a culture that always demands more. The perfect AD-worthy home, the perfect “balanced” job, the perfect kids in their perfectly curated lives.

Even now, four weeks before giving birth, I still have moments of doubt and uncertainty, of probing my partner on how his Excel budget spreadsheets are coming along (thankfully, there is one person obsessed with those in the family). At the same time, I know that no spreadsheet can calculate the joy, the chaos, and the intangible value this little person will bring to our world. Yes, our lifestyle will change and there will be trade-offs: trips will be skipped, freedom will be lost, and I will likely have to say no to quite a few The Row bags (sigh). But I’m learning to embrace the uncertainty and trust that somehow, we will make it work. At the end of the day, I know this for sure: my kids won’t remember how much we spent on their birthday parties or where we stayed when we went on vacation. What they will remember is how loved they felt, the adventures we shared, and the fact that, despite our uncertainty, we took the leap.