I was in my first year of my PhD program in 2018 when I first caught a glimpse of the person who would become my husband and the father of my son. He was on his campus visit, and would join the program when I was in my second year. Long story short and with a healthy dose of academic clichés: friends and intellectual companions went to a conference and the sparks for a beautiful romance ignited. Like many people feel when they've found their person, we knew we wanted to start a family. But as broke grad students living hundreds if not thousands of miles away from our families and wider support networks, how would this even be feasible? Could we become parents and still achieve our PhD dreams?

If you're reading this blog, you're probably asking yourself the same question. And it's not a rare conundrum––especially for women––given that it generally takes 5–7 years or more to get through a PhD program, and there's a good chance this period may intersect with when you're settled down and, PhD aside, would probably consider having kids.

There's the logistics of finances, support network, postpartum recovery, grad work-baby life balance, and so much more to consider. I know, a headache is already brewing just trying to contend with it all. Here, I'll break down some of the considerations you may want to think about and plan for before you embark on the life-changing decision to have a child as a PhD student, from the perspective of someone who did it.*

Finances

Ouch, let's just rip the bandaid off. For many PhD students, finances are a huge consideration when deciding the when of trying to start a family. Stipends are tiny, daycare is astronomically expensive, and even if you land a job as soon as you graduate, there's a good chance you'll be financially behind your non-PhD-holding peers for a few years as you recoup the time you spent in grad school.

First thing is work out what your new expenses plus baby will look like. Most PhDs will need some childcare (I didn't have this option—but that's another story), so how much will that cost? Friends/family, or daycare? Medical expenses—prenatal visits, delivery, and whatever your insurance through the university does or doesn't cover? Increase in monthly expenses (re: diapers, formula, if you can't or don't want to breastfeed)? Will you need a bigger place, meaning bigger rent or mortgage? The biggest question is: assuming your PhD stipend doesn't change, can your partner's salary support this increase in expenses? And if you're doing this solo, without a partner's income to lean on, that math gets even tighter.

It's worth sitting down and writing out the numbers rather than just feeling anxious about them. A rough monthly budget—stipend in, partner salary in, new expenses out—can turn a fuzzy fear into a concrete plan, and concrete plans are so much easier to live with. Look into what your university offers, too: maybe they have discounted campus daycare, for example. You won't know what's on the table until you ask.

Huge stress equals a very important factor to cope with. There must be a plan. Being broke as a couple is one thing. Being broke with a baby to care for is another.

Timing

When is a good time? This is, of course, the ultimate question regarding this topic. The honest answer is: there isn't a perfect one. But there are better and worse ones, and it's worth thinking through where you land.

Age is a real consideration, both yours and, if you're doing this with a partner, theirs. As much as I love the fact that having children later has become somewhat of a norm now, it's also true that fertility doesn't wait for you to finish your comps. If you're in your early 30s already when you start your program, the "we'll wait until after graduation" plan might mean waiting longer than you'd like.

Then there's where you are in the program itself. Coursework years are demanding in a different way than being ABD (all but dissertation)—you're tied to a schedule of classes, seminars, and exams that isn't always flexible. Being ABD and dissertating, on the other hand, often comes with more autonomy over your time, even if the workload doesn't necessarily shrink. Some people find it easier to have a baby while coursework is still structured and predictable; others find the freedom of the dissertating phase makes room for the unpredictability a newborn brings. There's no universally right answer here—only what's right in context of your specific program, your advisor, and your own working style.

It's also worth thinking about milestones: quals, your proposal defense, fieldwork or data collection that can't easily be paused. Mapping your pregnancy and those first postpartum months against your program's timeline can help you spot potential collision points before they sneak up on you.

Support

Another biggie. Do you—or will you—have any help with childcare and postpartum recovery for the rest of the duration of your program? I didn't, and ultimately it did make my postpartum experience and pathway to graduation more difficult. If you have family nearby, or the means to fly someone in for those early weeks, count yourself lucky and use it. If you don't, know that it's possible, but you'll need to be more intentional about building a support system from scratch.

What about departmental support? Will your advisor be flexible with potentially missed deadlines or a slower few months of output, because with a baby, there is always the possibility for plans to go awry. This is a conversation worth having before you're in the thick of it, not after. If there are other other academic parents in your department or that you know of, ask how their advisors handled it. Look into your university's parental leave policy in writing, not just what you've heard secondhand—policies vary wildly by institution, and sometimes even by department within the same institution.

Beyond your advisor, think about your wider support network: labmates who might cover for you, a therapist or counselor you can talk to, other grad student parents who just get it in a way non-parents can't. Finding even one or two people who are in the same boat can make an enormous difference.

Postpartum Recovery

Related to support, but definitely deserving of its own heading, is your postpartum recovery. While we hope that the birth will be easy, that there won't be medical complications, that you won't have a hopelessly foggy mom brain for months after giving birth, and that jumping back into dissertating will be a cinch—the fact is it probably won't go like this. While you shouldn't plan around worst-case scenarios as if they're guaranteed, it's wise to think through them anyway.

If your department gives you three months of family leave and you're not ready to come back, will they let you take a leave of absence without penalty? Will your funding or stipend be affected? Are there resources and support that will help with a phased return to graduate study—easing back in part-time before jumping to a full course or research load?

I was given three months off and, thank goodness, I had the sense to know this would not be enough to recover enough to get back into my research, so I took an unpaid leave of absence. It wasn't an easy decision financially, but it was the right one for my body and my brain. Could you make this work if absolutely necessary? It's worth knowing the answer before you need it.

PhD Work/Baby-Life Balance

Right, so the baby is here. What next? Do you envisage a working schedule for how you'll finish the PhD and manage other responsibilities that are on your plate sustainably—that is, without completely burning out? I wouldn't have gotten through it without a flexible but consistent schedule that allowed me to write and defend my dissertation in just over one year.

For me, that meant carving out set writing blocks around nap times and my partner's schedule, and being ruthless about protecting them. It meant lowering my expectations of what a "productive day" looked like and getting comfortable with progress that was slower than it used to be, but still real progress. It also meant learning to say no and make sacrifices regarding the way I used my time. I talk more about my specific path toward completion and the tactics I employed here.

Consistency mattered more than intensity. A predictable hour or two most days beat the occasional marathon writing session that I was too exhausted to actually have. And building in grace for the days that just didn't go to plan—because with a child in tow, plenty of them won't—was part of making the whole thing sustainable rather than something I'd burn out on by month three.

So...What Now?

Everyone's circumstances are unique, and this blog can't possibly speak to the many complexities of your life and this huge decision you're contemplating. Finances, timing, support, recovery, balance—these are all pieces of a much bigger, much more personal puzzle, and only you (and your partner, if you have one) can decide how they fit together for you. What I can tell you is that it's doable. Hard, some days impossibly so, but doable. And you don't have to figure it all out alone.

I work with PhD student and academic moms to empower them to reach their goals in a supportive, empathetic, and gentle way. If you're lost in scheduling, carving out enough writing time, or dealing with an advisor breathing down your neck who doesn't actually offer you enough logistical help, please reach out here. From one former academic mom to others: you can do this, and it will be okay.

*This blog is from the perspective of a heterosexual, cisgender woman who had a child naturally with a cisgender man who they were married to; thus, I don't touch on other considerations, such as IVF or surrogacy, that did not apply to my specific experience. Having said this, if this is your journey and you need support, I'd love to work with you.