Melanie Paradis: Poilievre was right to bring up my biological clock

The Liberals have a huge blindspot on an issue that is intensely important to millions of young Canadians ... we want more children.

By: Melanie Paradis

I just turned 40. I have two beautiful children — three-and-a-half years old and eight months — and I want a third.

That statement raises eyebrows. After all, I run a successful business. I work more than full-time. I live in the same economy as you. And yet — I want another baby. Not because I’m reckless. Because I love being a mom. Because I believe in investing in the future. Because I want to.

And in today’s Canada, that feels like a radical act.

This election, the conversation is dominated by Trump’s tariffs, and understandably so. But as we analyze different sectors that will be impacted by tariffs, and develop policy prescriptions for the hundreds of thousands of jobs that could be lost, where are the policies for the millions of young Canadians pausing their hopes and plans for children because of so much uncertainty? The untold story of Trump’s tariffs and threats is that the quiet collapse of Canada’s birth rate will only worsen. Nothing kills the mood or your hormonal balance quite like Trump.

Of course, the second Pierre Poilievre mentioned this, the Liberals couldn’t resist twisting it into a tired attack line about reproductive rights.

On Monday, Poilievre said, “We will not forget that 36-year-old couple whose biological clock is running out faster than they can afford to buy a home.” This is a statement rooted in the biological and economic realities of being 30-something and trying to conceive. Yet the Liberals are tripping over themselves to condemn Poilievre for somehow insulting women.

What a total misread. Poilievre is the only politician in this campaign who is speaking openly and clearly about a real issue that is radicalizing young Canadians: it has become far, far too hard to start and support a family in this country, and that is obviously a burden that lands entirely on the young. Given the demographics of the average Liberal voter, I can get why this would be below the radar for the party, but I’m begging them, and setting politics aside when I do, to stop viewing this as a moment to launch a political attack on your rival and instead ask if this is actually a national issue that we should be talking about more, not less. Even if the politician happens to be a man.

To my Liberal friends: You are punching down on hurting people when you dismiss this issue, and since this might matter to you more, you’re hurting your electoral chances, too. Your party has a blindspot here, and the issue is too important to become a partisan football. Like, my dudes, for all your stupid rhetoric about The Handmaid’s Tale, have you read the damn book? It starts with a fertility crisis and birth rate collapse. If you don’t want the red capes, maybe we should get out in front of the issue?

Poilievre simply spoke the truth. And instead of meeting that truth with urgency or compassion, the Liberals responded by twisting his words. It’s predictable. And it’s shameful. Because the ability to choose to start or grow a family isn’t just about rights, it’s about reality. If people want children but can’t afford them, can’t access fertility care, and can’t find housing — it’s not freedom. It’s abject failure.

The truth is: families are struggling. And too many would-be families aren’t starting at all.

I’m part of the generation that delayed having kids to build a career. I worked in politics and climbed the private-sector ladder, then found the right partner in my 30s. We got pregnant quickly with our first. The second took longer and required fertility support. Now I’m 40, and I feel the pressure of time.

And even with two children I love deeply, I still ask myself: Can we afford another? Can we access the support we need? Can I manage another pregnancy and postpartum period while leading the company I founded?

I’m not alone. I’m just one of millions of Canadians trying to grow a family in a country that offers very little practical help to make that baby and care for it once it arrives.

We talk about health care like it’s universal. But if you’ve ever tried to conceive or been pregnant, you know that’s not really true.

Fertility care is hard to access and expensive. Some provinces fund services, others don’t. Some employers fund care, others don’t. Wait times are brutal. You can be told, at 39, to come back in a year. Then magically, once you turn 40, you can be told the odds are suddenly too low to try this procedure or that. And don’t get me started on how little time and resources the scientific community has spent studying women’s hormones, fertility, or postpartum issues. That’s a whole other column.

If you don’t live in a major centre, good luck. I had to drive two-and-a-half hours for rudimentary fertility tests with a specialist. And then there is postpartum care. Pelvic floor therapy? Almost entirely private. And yet, how many times have you heard a joke about a mom who pees a little when she laughs? It’s not funny. It’s a failure of our health-care system. We brush it off like that’s a normal thing that happens to women, when it’s actually what happens when no one invests in providing the proper care to a woman who just grew two new eyeballs and organs and neurotransmitters inside her body, using only the energy, vitamins and minerals stored there. Our bodies do incredible things to build this country yet our governments treat us like second-class citizens.

Other countries are doing this already. Families there don’t just get a baby bonus — they get a village.

I won’t overstate the case — boosting fertility via public policy is hard. Many countries have tried, few have succeeded. What may work is bundling a lot of policies together, rather than just relying on a lever or two. Home visits from nurses after you leave the hospital. Ongoing mental health care. Real parental leave for both parents. Subsidized household help. Community infrastructure that says: you’re not doing this alone.

Here? I left the hospital 28-hours after my second C-section. Then you Google everything. You crowdsource help from strangers on Instagram. You book your own pelvic floor therapy if you know another woman who has done it and pay out of pocket. You pay for a lactation specialist. And you pay for infant formula that isn’t even made in Canada and is prone to weird supply disruptions. You figure it out and try to scrape by.

And if you break down, or burn out, or bleed too long, you do it quietly. Because this country treats parenting like a private hobby, not a public priority.

So let’s make it one. Let’s build policies that rebuild the village.

We can start with fertility. More generous tax credits for treatment and adoption. Streamlined and broadened access to diagnostics and referrals. National coverage standards so your postal code doesn’t determine your odds of becoming a parent.

Let’s get serious about prenatal and postpartum care. Fund pelvic floor therapy. Fund lactation consultants. Fund postpartum mental health support. These aren’t luxuries. They’re infrastructure.

Let’s stop pretending the Canada Child Benefit solves everything. It’s a good tool. It’s not a village. So let’s cut HST on all essentials for babies and children. And let’s eliminate income tax on one parent per household with children under five years of age. Because here’s the thing about child care … if you have a child over four, governments across Canada already provide elementary school. The problem is, parents with kids under four are paying the same taxes without the benefit of that resource supervising their children for about eight hours a day, and have to pay out of pocket instead.

“$10 a day” daycare is failing to meet the needs of most families in most provinces where the federal government has caused it to exist. It is on a constant verge of collapse due to underfunding and bad program parameters. We should instead diversify options for families to choose care that works for their kids and their schedules, including private, semi-private, public, and care provided by grandparents.

If one parent isn’t paying income tax, most families wouldn’t end up needing all these piecemeal programs. Low-income individuals would remain the exception, and we could make changes to the Canada Child Benefit to better support them.

If we really care about our future, we need to create a country where having a child is possible, supported, and even joyful. We need to treat families like the national asset they are.

Because here’s the thing: we’ve bailed out airlines and banks and battery plants. We’ve written big cheques for big business. When are we going to write one for the people who are actually creating new Canadians? Can I gently suggest that one of our major parties should be thinking about that, and not how to best dunk on the male politician who dared to raise an issue that is keeping millions of young Canadians awake at night?

I come from a centuries-old line of French Catholics who populated this country with our 13-kid families. I’m not trying for that. But as the third-born child, I’m glad my parents made it to three kids. And all I want is the chance to do the same, and for that to not seem like such a radical idea.

Melanie Paradis is the president of Texture Communications and a veteran Conservative campaigner.

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