Last month in California, 33-year-old unemployed single mother of six, Nadya
Suleman, gave birth to octuplets conceived through in vitro fertilization and
promptly hired a publicist to field the torrent of interview requests and
book-deal offers headed her way. That same week, a group of middle-aged single
mothers in New Jersey was the subject of a fawning profile in The New York
Times that celebrated their decisions to intentionally create fatherless
families. And just last week, 60-year-old Canadian Ranjit Hayer enjoyed
celebratory headlines when she gave birth to twins conceived through IVF,
becoming a first-time mother at an age when most women are doting on their
grandchildren.

It was in this context of unconventional motherhood that St. Louis-born WNBA
star Candace Parker recently announced her pregnancy. Parker probably figured
the news would be non-controversial, given that the fresh-faced Los Angeles
Sparks forward and Olympic gold medalist is happily married to Sacramento Kings
forward Shelden Williams. Both earn more than enough to support a family:
Parker alone reaps millions on and off the court as one of the most celebrated
women athletes in the world.

But Parker's pregnancy was not greeted with the same approval and tolerance
that many of today's child-bearing sexagenarians and single mothers by choice
enjoy when they form their families. Instead, Parker was blasted by fans and
pundits for becoming a mother at age 22. Critics bemoaned her selfishness in
putting maternal ambitions ahead of her team's 2009 season prospects. Others
lamented her foolishness for starting a family when she should be living a
strings-free existence oriented around her glamorous career.

Not long ago, a 22-year-old woman was considered plenty old enough to marry and
bear children. But in today's era of prolonged adolescence and commitment
phobia, high-achieving women like Parker often face ridicule and scorn for
defying the feminist conventional wisdom that marriage and motherhood are
second-rate pursuits best delayed until middle age. Young mothers frequently
are accused of forfeiting a hard-won feminist privilege: the right to spend
their 20s single-mindedly pursuing sexual license, success and self-fulfillment
without the hassles of a husband and children.

For her part, Parker told the Los Angeles Times that she wanted her children to
grow up witnessing the athletic career of their young mother rather than
arriving after it ends. Although she believes she can return to basketball as a
mother, Parker said, "The biggest thing for me is not a matter of if or when [I
return] but of coming back with a good balance in my life."

Parker's view of motherhood as "a blessing" that will "make me a fuller,
happier person" is not as unusual as the media hoopla over her pregnancy
suggests. As The Wall Street Journal recently reported, the National Center for
Health Statistics has released data showing that the mean age at which American
women bear their first babies decreased for the first time since the collection
of such data began in 1968. The decline in age among first-time mothers was
slight — from 25.2 years in 2005 to 25.0 years in 2006, the latest year for
which numbers are available — but the biggest uptick in first-time births was
found among women in their early 20s.

The reasons behind that uptick vary from mother to mother. But the ones Parker
cited surely motivate many young women, as does the desire to avoid the trials
of infertility and single motherhood often experienced by women who awaken late
to their longing for children. Rather than being criticized, Parker ought to be
applauded for bearing her child in the stable context of a marriage and daring
to trade some of her youthful freedom for the grown-up reward of committed
family love.

Colleen Carroll Campbell is an author, television and radio host and St.
Louis-based fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. Her website is
www.colleen-campbell.com.