“Make America Pregnant Again” Faces Reality Check as New Parents Struggle to Afford Daycare

MANCHESTER, N.H. — Marco and Xio Delgado welcomed their first child, a baby boy named Camron, into the world last week. While the birth was a long-awaited joy for the couple, it also marked the beginning of a new chapter defined by economic anxiety and a system that seems designed to punish anyone who dares to raise a family without a trust fund or podcast sponsorship.

“We’re deeply grateful,” said Xio, holding Camron close as he slept, “but the truth is, we feel lucky — not stable. There’s a difference.”

The Delgados have jobs, health insurance, and family nearby. They have, as Marco puts it, “more than most,” and yet they’re already buckling under the cost of childcare. Infant daycare in New Hampshire averages just under $17,000 a year—a bill that nearly matches the Delgados’ annual mortgage payments.

Marco teaches seventh-grade civics at a public school. Xio works from home for a supply chain firm. They’ve started sharing a car, cutting back on groceries, and rotating work schedules in four-hour shifts to avoid the cost of full-time care.

“We can make this work because we have flexibility,” said Marco. “But if either of us were in retail or hospitality? If we were single parents? If we had medical debt or lived one town over where rents and the costs of buying a home are even higher? We’d be drowning.”

But according to Vice President J.D. Vance, everything is going according to plan.

In an exclusive interview with Alpine 6 Action News, Vance appeared in a loosely knotted Turkish cotton robe, lounging on a fainting couch described by aides as “luxuriously upholstered in American exceptionalism and at least one burrito stain,” and cheerfully championed his “Make America Pregnant Again” campaign.

“Look, I don’t do taxes,” said Vance, swirling a drink suspiciously close to a USB port. “But we upped the baby rebate thing—the return or deduction or whatever—from $2,000 to $5,000. That’s, like, three thousand extra bones. That should cover a few weeks of daycare, right?”

When informed that daycare costs in Manchester exceed $325 a week per child, Vance blinked. “Wait, is that per month?”

Now armed with the knowledge that $5,000 would barely cover three months of childcare in Manchester, Vance shrugged. “Well, I’m not struggling,” he added. “If I can do it, anybody can.”

When asked if the administration would consider further reforms—such as subsidized childcare, parental leave, or up-front cash support—Vance shifted on the couch, spilling some kombucha onto a document labeled “Phase II: Let Them Swaddle Cake.”

“Listen, I’m doing fine,” he said. “If I can make it work, so can everyone else. You just need a strong marriage, inherited property, and a healthy distrust of Europe.”

The administration’s proposed “baby bonus”—a $5,000 tax incentive for families who have children—is part of a growing natalist push led by Vance and backed rhetorically by former President Trump. But many families say it does little to address the immediate costs and structural challenges of child-rearing in America: expensive healthcare, unpaid leave, unaffordable housing, and nearly nonexistent public childcare options.

“You can’t build a nation on vibes and after-the-fact rebates,” Xio said. “A tax credit isn’t childcare. It’s just a refund on which barely puts a dent in what families have already survived.”

The Delgados say they’ll be okay. They’re resourceful. They’re surrounded by love and supported by a solid—if stretched—network. But they’re aware that they’re the exception.

“There are so many parents out there already on the edge,” Marco said. “People who want kids, but know they’d be risking financial collapse. A government that’s serious about families wouldn’t just throw money at tax season. It would make sure families don’t fall apart before then.”

At press time, Camron Delgado had reportedly spit up on a copy of Hillbilly Elegy in protest. His parents took it as a sign—and a warning.