But experts caution that the liberal abortion policy is not responsible for the declining population. Rather, it is a symptom of a larger issue. Generally speaking, many Cubans simply believe they cannot afford a child.
“I’ve had two abortions, one of them with Jorge,” said Claudia Aguilar San Juan, a 27-year-old restaurant worker, referring to her boyfriend of two years, Jorge Antonio Nazco. “At the time, we didn’t think we were ready to have kids, and we continue to think that it’s still not the time.”
Mr. Nazco added: “We need to be able to afford basic things for ourselves, and we’re also not going to be living three people in one room. I just want to give my kids a comfortable life, a better life than what I had.”
That is the case with Elisabeth Dominguez and Eddy Marrero. Together, the couple earn about $70 a month for her work as a psychologist and his as a pediatric nurse, a relatively high income by Cuban standards.
The standard, however, is the problem. “It’s barely enough for the two of us,” said Ms. Dominguez, 29, shaking her head. “How could we afford a kid?”
Recognizing the problem, the government has begun to circulate pro-pregnancy pamphlets and fliers to encourage young couples to keep their children. Some women said that in recent months, government doctors had discouraged them from having abortions, while others have noticed sudden shortages of condoms and birth control pills.
While those assertions could not be verified, most experts say it hardly matters. Cuba will not be able to procreate its way out of the current crisis anytime soon.
Few tactics work to increase a nation’s fertility rate, despite efforts in countries like Japan to pay families to have children.
What some suggest could help is if the government could manage to encourage the vast Cuban expatriate population to come home. There, too, the government has shown some willingness to adjust its stance, including easing the return of islanders living or traveling abroad.
But surmounting the longstanding bitterness of many families toward the government, which still holds a tight grip on the country, poses challenges of its own. And the returning Cubans will need to be interested in more than an extended vacation or investment opportunity.
“Already there is more flow,” said Ted Piccone, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution who studies Cuba, referring to the return of Cubans abroad in their 20s, 30s and 40s. “But is it going to be a matter of ‘I want my vacation home there,’ or will they put down roots?”
Separated families are a fact of life for most Cubans, another element straining the state of the Cuban family. With millions abroad, and a domestic population of just over 11 million, few families are left untouched by the schism that followed the country’s revolution.
Ms. Rodriguez and Mr. Padilla both have relatives living in the United States, some of whom they have not seen for years. Some do not want to return, having disconnected from the rhythm of life on the island. Others return and appear changed, no longer the cousins and nephews from years before.
In many respects, their relationship represents the challenges facing the government as it confronts an industrialized world problem with a developing world economy.
In their minds, there is no doubt they will get married. As a jeweler, Mr. Padilla, 29, plans to design the ring himself and propose once he saves enough to buy a diamond.
Even then, they say, they are not certain they can afford the burden of a child. Earlier this year, the pair aborted a pregnancy, a decision for which they both express a degree of sadness. Still, it is not so uncommon in their families. Their mothers have had four abortions each, the two say, seated on the back porch of Ms. Rodriguez’s mother’s home, where the couple live.
Mr. Padilla, smirking, blurted out that Ms. Rodriguez’s aunt had undergone 10 procedures, prompting his partner to laugh.
“Quiet,” she whispered sharply, slapping his arm. “She has a degree in French and is inside right now.”
He giggled quietly and looped his arm through hers. Ultimately, he said, they do want a family. The when of the matter would come in the not-too-distant future, he hoped.
“We don’t want to pressure ourselves,” Mr. Padilla said. “We want to live our lives, day by day, each day in its own time.”
Curated by Timothy
Original Article