“My parents shouldnt have had children.”

Women who are unable to take good care of their child due to addiction, psychiatric illness and/or mental disability must be contraceptive, according to former child judge Cees de Groot. This so that they cannot reproduce. This is stated in the petition of the Beraadsgroep compulsory contraception, which De Groot sent to the House of Representatives. He has been working for mandatory contraception for a long time. The plea is supported by Heleen Dupuis, professor of medical ethics at rest and former VVD senator. Babette Boom (49) is such a child of parents who De Groot describes as unsuitable. Everything that seems so obvious was unknown to me.

As a child of a mother with a mental disability and various psychiatric issues, I think I have a right to speak out on this difficult subject. When are you fit for parenting and where is the border? Also mothers without this problem will not always be fit to bear the responsibility of a new life. Putting a child into the world is a responsibility for life. A child is vulnerable. A parent can make or break a child. With only one evil sentence, as a parent, you can do great harm. Above all, let me stick to the subject.

Psychiatric disorder

My mother has brought three children into the world. She had three descendants together with my father, who unfortunately also had a psychiatric disorder. Then you dont exactly fall in the prices as a child. It cannot be left out that you get punched when you are born of such parents.

A mother is a great frame of reference in life. You look a lot away from your mother when you were a kid. Something that, seems to me, suits you at a later stage of life, for example, when you become a mother yourself. But also the smaller things in life, such as: keeping a household running, dealing with personal hygiene, cooking, having conversations, maintaining social contacts etc.

I have rarely seen the above with my mother until never. Everything, but everything that seems so obvious, was unknown to me. – Cooking? I only knew three dishes. Three dishes in the base. Making a salad was nothing more or less than peeling a head of lettuce, throwing a hard-boiled egg in it with a lot of mayonnaise. Vegetables came out of a jar, I didnt know any better. Meat was mostly a baked cheese slice. I was not allowed to shower as a teenager because then the bathroom got wet, I was not explained that the blood I found in my underwear one morning was a normal thing. I thought I was dying.


Rarely until never did I see my mother having a conversation. Rarely until never did my mother have a girlfriend or social contacts. My mom sat behind her sewing machine all day. Apparently, all mothers did. Having a conversation with her? That couldnt be. We soon spoke a different language. Help with homework? Thats something that only existed in fairy tales, I believed. In my mind, I still see the mother who cried for everything and who didnt know what to do with her children. When two more children were born after me, I took on the mothers task. I havent been a carefree child.

Partly because my father also had the necessary psychiatric disorders, our family was dislocated. We, as children, have suffered tremendously. The quarrels, the verbal violence in which the children were never taken into account, ensured that there was no safe home base. Back home, it was bad stuff. Always. Or, almost always.

One child

I am now 49 years old. Im a mother of a daughter myself. Consciously, my partner and I have chosen one child. Imagine I screw up?, I thought. A childs soul should never be damaged again. Motherhood I did on intuition, there was nothing to look off after all. I learned that in motherhood you can never be perfect, even mothers are but people. From my childhood, I learned how not to do it. I turned everything Id seen in my parents home. Thats how our child did create that safe home. Something that still goes on, our grown daughter still likes to come home. For me the biggest gift, after all, it could have been quite different.

With the wisdom of today, I dont think my parents should have had children. We are certainly not pathetic children, but damaged children. We have learned little to nothing, we have not been provided with a frame of reference, no foundation has been laid. You can let go of ten psychiatrists on what were going through, and theyre flapping their ears. No person has even a little sense of the emptiness that such a youth brings with it: the loneliness, the jealousy that you feel with boyfriends or girlfriends where it is niceis…


In my dreams it is still common that I have lunch or shopping with my mother. Having an equal conversation with your mother is something I dont know. Just like it would be unimaginable for me to call my mother for advice or advice. I can go to my mother for nothing. During the last Christmas dinner she gave at her house, she served cup a soup in disposable cups. Then she wouldnt have to wash dishes. She uses a coffee pad twice, giving me the used one.

I broke up with my father. He died by now. A difficult mourning process followed. I broke up with my mother when a lot of disagreement arose again. I cant bring it any more. All my life, Ive been caring for my mother, it only brought me reproach and claim behavior.

Physical violence

Still, Im left with an incredible conflict of loyalty. Shes at age. How will I feel when she dies? Something thats inevitable. How is she going to save herself in this difficult time? Shes lonely. Shes polluting. At the same time, she argues with every volunteer who comes across the floor with her. My parents shouldnt have had children. Theyve done themselves short, but mostly us. We havent been enjoyed. We were, thats how I experienced it, more of a block on the leg. I was scolded, made up of everything, razed to the ground, and very sometimes there was even physical violence. You cant do that to a child. Never!

When I close my eyes, I see myself with my daughter feeding the ducks before taking her to kindergarten. I see her little hands plunge into the big sandwich bags looking for bread for the begging ducks. Pure moments of luck at 8:00 in the morning. That… that, I would have given myself the same way…