It all began quite early for me. My first child, Leo, was just a year old when I had a conversation with my mother that would set the tone for unsolicited opinions about my reproductive choices. I casually mentioned that we were considering adding another child to our family. Without hesitation, she retorted, “You really don’t want to have another baby right now. It’s going to be so difficult. Trust me, it will change your whole life.” As a side note, my own siblings and I are only about 15 months apart—closer than any gap Leo would have with a new sibling, even if we had spontaneously decided to have another child right then and there.
Thanks for the reminder, Mom, that my existence was apparently a burden. That ranks high on my list of “Things I Wish I Never Knew” right along with the details about my parents’ intimate life and the latest political scandals.
As soon as you have children, it seems that your private life becomes a topic of public concern. Friends, family, and even random strangers take it upon themselves to share their thoughts about everything from the timing of your pregnancies to the size of your family. This unsolicited commentary comes from all corners, and it can be incredibly frustrating. The truth is, my reproductive choices are none of anyone’s business.
Commentary on Timing
When I became pregnant with my second child, Max, only 15 months after Leo was born, the questions really ramped up. During a family brunch, I mentioned my plans for another baby, and my mother shot back, “You don’t want to do that. It’s too soon.” Little did she know, I was already pregnant. I sulked through the rest of the meal and avoided her for weeks. What could I say? “Hey Mom, I’m feeling awful because I’m pregnant. Thanks for your concern!” Eventually, we broke the news, and she pretended to be happy, but that moment was already tainted.
If we had waited to conceive, we would have faced the dreaded “When are you having another?” questions. At the pediatrician’s office, when the nurse saw Leo walking at just a year old, she remarked, “Looks like you’re ready for the next one!” Nope, not at all.
At least we avoided the rude comments about only children. People love to say, “You don’t want just one child; they’ll end up selfish or lonely.” If you dare to express a desire for a smaller family, brace yourself for arguments about how your child will be burdened with caring for you when you’re old.
Commentary on My Choice to Have Children
Then came the inquiries from everyone, including the cashier at the grocery store. They’d glance at the baby on my back and my growing belly, asking, “Was this planned?” What? Who gave you the right to pry into my personal life? I’d reply, “Yes, it was planned,” and the mood would shift as I transitioned from polite to irritated.
When I was pregnant with my third child, Emma, the questions about family planning doubled. However, at church, I was pleasantly surprised when fellow parishioners simply offered congratulations instead of judgment. It turns out, there are still places where kindness prevails.
Let me make this clear: it is never acceptable to ask someone if a child was planned. The only appropriate response to any pregnancy announcement is, “Congratulations! Can I help in any way?”
Commentary on Gender Expectations
I always envisioned having boys. While I wouldn’t have minded a girl, I had hoped for sons. When I was pregnant with my third, strangers would eagerly ask, “Did you finally get your girl?” They didn’t seem to understand that I was perfectly happy with my two boys. “No, we didn’t get a girl, but we got another boy,” I’d respond sweetly, leaving them bewildered. I owe no one an explanation for my family’s gender composition.
Now, as I navigate life with my three sons, ages 8, 5, and 3, I often hear comments like, “How do you handle all those boys? You must be exhausted!” I don’t need pity; I need my kids to behave. When asked if we’d try for a girl, I share our plans to foster or adopt, which leaves them speechless.
Even my babysitter recently chimed in, asking how it felt to be the only female in the house. “I have Charlie,” I replied, referring to our dog. She seemed unsure how to respond, which was precisely my intention.
The Question: “Are You Done?”
Years have passed since our last pregnancy announcement, and now people are curious if we’re “done.” I casually mention that we’re adopting, but the questions keep coming: “Why not have more biologically?” or “Are you having trouble conceiving?” To make them uncomfortable, I divulge, “I’m on several medications that aren’t safe during pregnancy, so my uterus is closed for business unless a miracle occurs.”
And regarding our contraceptive methods? That’s none of your business.
Ultimately, my family planning decisions are mine alone. The only opinions that matter are from those who share in the responsibility of raising my children. Not from relatives, not from strangers, and certainly not from the gossipy woman in the grocery aisle. Compliment me on my kids’ cuteness or their energy, but please, don’t suggest that I need a daughter. And whatever you do, don’t ask if I’m pregnant!
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In summary, my reproductive choices are deeply personal and should be respected by everyone. Whether it’s about timing, family size, or the gender of my children, the only opinions that matter are those of my immediate family. It’s time to end the endless questioning and focus on what truly matters: love and support.