“Three [Kids] Is the New Six”—But Many Can’t Afford Even That

In Utah, my family of six was unremarkable. Nearly all my friends were one of at least three kids—many of them, one of five or six. What stood out to me was that the girl who sat beside me in orchestra was one of 15 children. That was a big family. 

Due to the cultural dominance of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (or colloquially, Mormons), Utah has long had a higher fertility rate than the rest of the nation. The state also sees higher marriage rates, earlier marriage and childbirth, and fewer single-parent households. Well into the 1980s, Utah women averaged around three children, even as the national average dipped below two. 

Today, Utah remains shaped by Mormonism’s celebration of big, traditional families. But like the rest of the country, its fertility rate has declined. Utah now ranks tenth nationally, averaging 1.8 children per woman (compared to a national average of 1.52). “Three is the new six,” said Layla Taylor, a star of Hulu’s The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, during a season two episode.

In March, President Trump declared he wanted to be “the fertilization president.” His allies floated proposals like a National Motherhood Medal for moms of six or more, and classroom lessons on menstruation and fertility to help more people conceive. But Utah’s example suggests America’s falling birth rate is not primarily a crisis of cultural values that can be solved by urging people to conceive. It’s a crisis of economic reality. 

Both progressive and conservative analysts agree: You cannot understand falling fertility without understanding the economic and financial worries Americans face. Simply living in the U.S. with children is more expensive and risk-laden than ever. In Utah, for example, the cost of living has skyrocketed: Median home prices in Salt Lake City have increased 94 percent in the past decade. 

Much like Mormons, Americans routinely say they value family above all and want more children than they end up having. But that desire is crashing into financial stress. In a Harris poll from earlier this year, 53 percent of Americans said that no matter how hard they try, something always sets them back, and 33 percent said they’re just getting by. Parents feel the squeeze most: the Federal Reserve found the share of parents reporting they are financially “doing okay” has fallen 10 percentage points since the pandemic.

According to 2024 Pew Research data, only one-third of Americans believe they’re living the American Dream. Just half think it’s even attainable. This isn’t just pessimism—it reflects growing structural inequality. The bottom 50 percent of families now own just 3 percent of the nation’s unprecedented wealth. 

We're witnessing a fundamental shift in how Americans view family life. Children are becoming a luxury: emotionally priceless, but financially out of reach. And that’s more than a feeling—it’s a message strongly reinforced. Across the political spectrum, a harsh judgment is leveled at parents who can’t “afford” their kids. With housing, child care, and health care costs soaring, and 44 percent of Americans working low-wage hourly jobs, it’s no surprise that many delay or forgo having children altogether.  

We’ve moved from a society where love, determination, and modest means could sustain a family to one where children are optional lifestyle choices: affordable only to the well-resourced, risky for the rest.

“Children are becoming a luxury: emotionally priceless, but financially out of reach.”

The Mormon Church, known for its dedication to large, close-knit families, has tried to reframe this reality as surmountable. As recently as 2011, then-Church President Thomas S. Monson encouraged couples to have children despite financial concerns: “[T]here is no shame in a couple having to scrimp and save,” he said. “It is generally during these challenging times that you will grow closer together as you learn to sacrifice and to make difficult decisions.” 

That sentiment echoes in conservative media. In a recent New York Times profile of Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy, Duffy and his wife, Fox News host Rachel Campos-Duffy, shared that they have nine children and encouraged others to follow suit. On their podcast, they’ve argued that others should do the same “to save America.” “We didn’t wait till we were like, ‘I got a fat bank account,’” Duffy said. “We got married, we had kids, and we figured it out.” But the Times also noted that Duffy had been an MTV reality star and worked for his father’s law firm when they started their family—hardly a tale of financial struggle.

Eventually, material realities catch up to even the sweetest of sentiments. Until parents’ pleas for paid leave and child care, a more generous child allowance, and affordable healthcare and housing are met with something better than “Why did you have kids you couldn’t afford?” fertility rates will continue to fall.

The Trump administration has acknowledged these financial pressures. On the 2024 campaign trail, Vice President J.D. Vance proposed the idea of $5,000 “baby bonuses.” “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Trump said in response. 

But when the administration’s signature One Big Beautiful Bill Act passed, those big promises turned into small gestures: Any new incentives for parenthood amounted to modest child care tax credits, slightly larger refunds for parents of young children, and $1,000 retirement accounts for babies born during Trump’s second term. 

Meanwhile, the bill gave massive tax breaks to the wealthiest Americans and slashed support for families. These cuts include trillions of dollars in Medicaid funding, food assistance, and other vital infrastructure. According to the Yale Budget Lab, the bill will reduce incomes for the lowest earners by 2.9 percent while raising the incomes of the top 20 percent of earners by 2.2 percent. 

If we’re serious about boosting fertility rates in the U.S.—and more broadly, about creating a society where people can build the lives they want—we must take on Americans’ real financial concerns and start addressing structural inequality. That means investments in housing, healthcare, child care, and income stability. It means real policies that allow Americans to dream bigger without fear of falling further behind. It’s less about getting people to have more babies than rebuilding economic and social conditions that once made having a family possible.

We need to start by creating more ways to achieve the American dream. That’s the essential foundation on which families—of two, three, or even 15—can thrive.

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