Nestled in the lower reaches of Himachal Pradesh, Sirmaur is a landscape of rolling green hills, terraced fields and pine-clad slopes, where mist drifts across tranquil valleys and life moves to an unhurried rhythm.
Nestled in the lower reaches of Himachal Pradesh, Sirmaur is a landscape of rolling green hills, terraced fields and pine-clad slopes, where mist drifts across tranquil valleys and life moves to an unhurried rhythm.
Yet, a decade ago, Amrita Tomar’s (name changed) days bore little resemblance to the stillness of the Himalayan village she called home. Her routine was governed by clockwork precision: finish the household chores, feed her toddler daughter, wait for her to fall asleep, tie a rope around her leg to keep her from crawling away, lock the door from the outside and set off for the fields a few kilometres away. The daughter’s cries were an indication for her to come back and feed her.
Despite their strained relationship, her mother-in-law would pitch in. But after she passed away, Tomar had to shoulder all the responsibilities alone. Daily-wage jobs would keep her husband away from their home.
The kids in the neighbourhood came to her rescue. The children would keep a tab on the baby while Tomar toiled in the field for eight to nine hours. Despite the hardships, quitting was not an option because the husband’s daily earnings of Rs 300—500 were not enough. The long working hours, sans any weekly offs, were physically draining. All of it took a toll on her health.
Priya Singh, a Delhi-based marketing executive in her early 30s, is today struggling against similar odds as Amrita. Newlyweds Priya and Anurag moved from Lucknow to Delhi three years ago. Higher pay packages and better career prospects were the drivers behind the move. Their workplace was extremely supportive after Priya conceived. She could work from home on difficult days, received all the maternity-leave benefits and even got an extension as there were postpartum complications.

But when she rejoined work, the challenges began. Both sets of parents were unable to move to Delhi to help the couple with caregiving, so they had to hire a local nanny. After an incident involving negligence, they had to hire another one from a registered agency and also instal a CCTV camera in the room. “I constantly monitor the camera on my mobile screen just to make sure my year-old son is safe. It is extremely stressful,” says Singh.
These new expenses have put a significant dent on the couple’s monthly budget. After paying the rent, bills and the equated monthly instalments, they are left with very little. On top of that is the burden of saving—for future illnesses, pre-school admission and ageing parents.
Although India’s population is projected to grow for decades, the drop in fertility is sharpening fears that the demographic dividend may be shorter-lived than expected.
Due to lack of a support system, Singh is now wondering whether it is practical to have a second child. Having been raised in a joint family, she strongly believed in the idea of having at least two children. “I don’t think it makes sense now because our jobs will keep us in Delhi, but we won’t get any help in raising children,” she says.
Tomar and Singh, belonging to socio-economic backgrounds that are worlds apart, share the same anxieties as millions of women across the country. And that is having demographic implications.
After decades of population explosion, India’s total fertility rate has dropped to 1.9 children per woman—which means, on average, women in India are having fewer children than the number needed to maintain the current size of population over the long term. Although India’s population may continue to grow for some time, the decline in fertility would eventually lead to a decline in the population.
The Outlook-Toluna Survey on Women and Family has made an array of important findings in this regard. Most importantly, young women are not foregoing motherhood as the DINK (double-income-no-kids) memes on social media might want you to believe. An overwhelming 93 per cent of the 1,334 women surveyed said that they either have kids already or plan to have at least one in the future. More than 55 per cent said they want to have two children.
However, the respondents, who lie in the age group of 18-45, also pointed out a persistent lack of support in raising kids. They feel that their families, partners, workplaces and the government are not doing enough—or making the right kind of efforts—to help.
Why was this survey undertaken?
A panic over falling fertility rates has gripped the entire world in recent times. It is rooted in a demographic arithmetic that is beginning to reshape the global economy: fewer births today mean fewer workers, taxpayers and consumers tomorrow, just as populations age and the cost of supporting retirees rises. It also threatens to upend assumptions about economic growth, public finances and geopolitical power.
Although India is still young and its population is projected to keep growing for decades, the drop in fertility below the replacement rate in much of the country is sharpening fears that the demographic dividend may be shorter-lived than expected. In this context, the Outlook-Toluna Survey reveals the reasons and patterns of young women postponing motherhood as they navigate career ambitions, financial growth and caregiving responsibilities.

A decade ago, the sequence of marriage, children and career was more assumed than examined. Now, women are in a position to make a choice.
Married for 18 months, Grusha Khanna, 29, who works in the private sector, and her husband, a government employee, have consciously decided not to have children anytime soon and instead focus on building a strong foundation together.
As the couple settled into married life in New Delhi, they talked about reaching both personal and professional objectives. During the process, both realised that having children is a significant burden that calls for preparation on all fronts—financial, emotional and professional. They want to have a child, but only when they think they are completely ready.
The Khanna couple is not alone. “Couples are arriving at fertility consultations older than they were a decade ago and the reasons they offer are not primarily about reluctance toward parenthood,” says Prachi Benara, fertility specialist, Birla Fertility and IVF, Gurgaon. “Education timelines have lengthened. Careers take longer to establish a point where starting a family feels financially viable,” she adds.
While financial security is one reason why Grusha wants to wait, she has a bigger worry. “As a woman in the corporate sector, maternity can also temporarily affect career growth, making thoughtful planning even more important before taking that step,” she says.
34 per cent women said having children negatively affects their career
The Outlook-Toluna Survey corroborates her concerns—while 44 per cent of the married women cited work-life balance as the reason they are delaying having children, 34 per cent said having children negatively affects women’s career progression. The number is significant considering 76 per cent of the women in the surveyed pool are either salaried or self-employed.
Poonam Muttreja, executive director, Population Foundation of India, underlines an important but lesser acknowledged factor shaping fertility decisions. “Child care, elder care, cooking, cleaning and household management still fall disproportionately on women,” she says. An International Labour Organisation report estimates that Indian women perform about 10 times as much unpaid care as men do.
While fathers are now more involved in raising children as compared to previous generations, mothers are expected to balance both careers as well as children. “This dual burden is also a reason why women are not willing to have many children,” says Smita Roy, founder and managing trustee of Peepal Tree Foundation, a non-profit organisation for women and children.
The Outlook-Toluna Survey has an interesting finding in this regard. Eighty-nine per cent of the respondents said living with grandparents or extended family makes it easier for working parents to raise children.
Yet, women are sometimes unfairly blamed for declining fertility, feels Roy. “More and more women are educated and as their workforce participation has increased, they seek greater agency over decisions that affect their lives. This should not be viewed as the cause of declining fertility but as a positive indicator of empowerment and informed choice,” she says.
Mohan Lal and Kamala Devi, a couple in their 50s, live a few kilometres from Tomar’s house in Sirmaur. Together, they raised eight children—six daughters, followed by a son and then another daughter. Their small grocery shop is the family’s only steady source of income. Life was a constant struggle, with the earnings spent on managing the household, paying school fees and later on arranging marriages for their daughters.
Though they don’t have any regrets, their viewpoint has changed considerably now. “We tell the next generation to have one to two children and give them quality education. Everything is very expensive, so it makes sense to have a small family,” says Kamala Devi.
For the couple, the deeply rooted desire to have a son was influenced more by social expectations than by a family’s economic capacity or personal choice. Each time they had a daughter, people consoled them by saying the next one would be a son. The conversations around family planning were missing in those days. The result was a big family the couple could not afford to raise.
Though they belong to a different generation, even today, women have to navigate the pressure of having a son. This was one of the reasons that drove Tomar to consume poison and attempt suicide.
The Outlook-Toluna Survey deduced that two in five women continue to face pressure to have a son, largely from immediate family members/spouses. While 39 per cent of women said the pressure to have a son came from family or society, 34 per cent said the pressure came from their own parents.
The trend of defiance is seen across urban clusters and metros as well. Shashi, who works as a cook in households in East Delhi, and her husband, a plumber, stopped at two daughters despite immense pressure to have a son. A couple of kilometres away, in Noida, Shrishti and Manu Sahni, whose combined annual pay package stands at almost Rs 1 crore, stopped at one son, despite considerable pressure to have a second child. For both couples, giving their children enough time and a good education mattered more than anything else.

“India’s declining fertility rate is creating a critical turning point in the country’s demographic transition, considering roughly 66 per cent of its population remains in the working-age group (15–59 years). If fertility remains below 2.1 for a prolonged period, India is likely to experience fewer births, slower population growth, ageing citizens, smaller working-age youth and hence greater pressure on pensions, health care and elderly care. India’s demographic dividend was always a time-bound opportunity, not a guaranteed outcome,” says Vikas Singh, a senior economist.
So, what is the solution?
Experts Outlook spoke to say the declining fertility should not be viewed as a crisis. Instead, the conversation should move beyond population numbers and focus on creating favourable conditions to allow people to make informed reproductive choices.
Providing stronger institutional support, such as affordable child care and family-friendly workplace policies, would help create a more balanced environment, says Roy of Peepal Tree Foundation.
“As fertility declines, the challenge will shift from producing a large workforce to creating a productive, skilled and economically active one. Public policy must move beyond celebrating population size and address affordable child care, parental leave, flexible workplaces and women’s employment,” adds Singh.
"Public policy must move beyond celebrating population size and address affordable child care, parental leave." — Vikas Singh
Some states are making the shift. Andhra Pradesh, for instance, which previously promoted a two-child family size as an ideal, has now moved its focus to population growth encouragement after the state’s fertility rate dropped to around 1.5. It is contemplating a one-time cash incentive of Rs 30,000 for the third child and Rs 40,000 for fourth child.
The state acknowledges that raising a child requires a lifetime of commitment, far exceeding any one-time financial assistance. Therefore, the broader vision focuses on systemic, life-cycle support. Families will receive support through a comprehensive framework: ensuring safe motherhood and reproductive care, continuous health tracking and preventive care, enabling infrastructure like workplace creches and safe transport for women, dignified ageing support for grandparents and future-ready skilling for youth.
Its not just Andhra Pradesh. There is a growing chorus for such policies in the southern states. Experts say that the trend is linked to political representation. Amid the fracas regarding the upcoming parliamentary delimitation exercise, these states fear that they will lose out on their share of seats in Parliament.
Population Foundation’s Muttreja, however, feels demographic engineering should not be the priority. “The need of the hour is to invest in people, especially women and young people, so that every child is wanted and supported and every generation can live with dignity,” she says.
The numbers substantiate her views. Take India’s infant mortality rate, for instance. It currently stands at about 24 deaths per 1,000 live births. For China and the US, the numbers stand at 3.9 and five, respectively. India ranks 102 out of 123 countries in the Global Hunger Index that combines undernourishment, child wasting, child stunting and under-five mortality. As per official numbers, presently 46 million children are out-of-school in India.
Policymakers have a lot to fix before they entangle politics and the declining fertility rate.
“The real risk is not that India will have fewer children, but that it will fail to build an economy where raising a family and pursuing economic aspirations are compatible. Demography creates the opportunity; institutions determine the dividend,” says Singh.
A decade ago, Amrita Tomar, who never made it to high school, made an important decision. “Although we had to send our daughters to a government school, their education was a priority. I want them to be financially independent so that they don’t have to rely on men for their financial agency. I feel proud that I raised them well all alone despite the struggles,” says Tomar. The question is: if she had five children, would she be in a position to educate them all?
Perhaps, the debate should now move beyond family sizes to creating a supportive ecosystem for India’s children to flourish. And helping the country’s women have greater agency in making their life choices.
Tomar, sitting in her remote Himalayan village, gets it. Do our policymakers?
The Outlook-Toluna Survey on Women and Family explores how urban Indian women think about parenthood, family size and the factors shaping decisions around having children. The survey covered 1,334 women aged 18-45 across metros and Tier I cities, with respondents divided almost evenly across four age cohorts: 18-24, 25-30, 31-35 and 36-45. Sixty-two per cent were from metros and 38 per cent from Tier I cities, spanning north, south, east and west India. The sample is highly educated, with 92 per cent graduates or above, while 54 per cent are salaried and 22 per cent self-employed. Two-thirds are married. The survey also captures differences in household structures, including nuclear, joint and extended families. Conducted online between July 14 and 24 2026, the 12-15-minute quantitative survey examines fertility aspirations, career and financial considerations, child care, family support, workplace attitudes and preference for sons. Results are tested at a 95 per cent confidence level.
Abhishek Sharma is deputy news editor, Outlook