It all began quite early. My first child, Leo, was just a little over a year old when the unsolicited opinions started rolling in. During a phone conversation with my father, I casually mentioned our thoughts about having another baby. “You don’t want to have another baby,” he interjected sharply. “We had you and your sister so close together, and it was a nightmare. It will ruin your life.” Just a side note: my sister and I are a mere 16 months apart—much closer than any future siblings would have been to Leo, even if we had made a spontaneous decision at that moment.
And wow, Dad, thanks for the revelation that my existence somehow ruined your life. That’s definitely on my list of “Things I Never Wanted to Hear,” right alongside stories about my parents’ romantic escapades and the latest scandals involving celebrities.
This was hardly the last time I faced scrutiny over my reproductive choices. Once you become a parent, the details of your intimate life become a topic of interest for countless people, from family to complete strangers. This unsolicited curiosity often manifests in various forms. It seems that a lot of people, particularly older women, feel entitled to voice their opinions on your family size, gender distribution, and how parenting impacts you. It’s irritating, it’s tiresome, and above all, it’s none of their business.
Unwanted Commentary on Timing
The inquiries about my family planning became more intense with each child. When I announced I was expecting my second child just 15 months after Leo was born, my family was less than thrilled. During a brunch outing, I mentioned my pregnancy plans while Leo excitedly munched on some pickles. My mother’s response was a stern, “You don’t want another baby right now; it’s too soon.”
Surprise! I was already pregnant with my second child, Mia. I sulked for the remainder of the meal and didn’t speak to her for months after that. How could I possibly share that I was suffering from morning sickness, thanks to being pregnant? Eventually, we broke the news, and she feigned happiness, but the moment had been tainted.
Of course, if we hadn’t gotten pregnant, we would have been subjected to the dreaded “When are you having the next one?” questions. At the pediatrician’s office, when the nurse noticed Leo walking at just a year old, she remarked, “Looks like you’re ready for the next one!” Um, no.
At least we didn’t have to endure the condescending comments about being an only child. “You don’t want your kid to be an only child,” people often say. “They’ll be selfish/mean/lonely.” And dare I mention that if you express contentment with just one child, they’ll attempt to convince you otherwise? “Your kid will be burdened with taking care of you when you’re old!”
Invasive Questions about My Choice to Have Children
Then came the questions from everyone, including the cashier at Target. They would gaze at my toddler nestled on my back while eyeing my growing belly, asking, “Was it planned?” Essentially, they were prying into my birth control decisions. I would respond, “Yes, it was planned,” with a tone that shifted from friendly to downright frosty. Because honestly, no one has the right to ask about my private life, especially not when it comes to whether a child was planned.
When I was pregnant with my third child while Mia was only 16 months, the inquiries about my family planning multiplied. Yet, there was one group that refrained from making flippant remarks—Catholics at church. Their response was simply, “Congratulations!” and that was refreshing.
Let me make this abundantly clear: it’s never okay to ask if a child is planned. The only appropriate response is “Congratulations. How can I help?”
Thoughtless Remarks on Gender Expectations
I have always desired sons, though I would have welcomed a daughter. So, when I was pregnant with my third, people would excitedly inquire, “Did you finally get your girl this time?” They would ask this in front of my two sons, as if the sole purpose of having a third child was to fulfill their gender expectations. “No, we didn’t want a girl,” I would say sweetly, though I wanted to snap, “Because we didn’t want one!” They’d look bewildered, as if I owed them an explanation for my family size and gender distribution.
Now, when I’m out with my three boys, who are ages 7, 5, and 3, people often exclaim, “Oh, poor mom, surrounded by boys! How do you manage?” I don’t need sympathy; I need my 3-year-old to stop screaming, and his gender has nothing to do with that. When they ask if we’ll try for another girl, I simply say, “We’re looking into foster/adoption,” and watch their eyes widen in shock.
Even my babysitter chimed in recently, asking how I felt being the only female in the house. “I have Max,” I replied, referring to my dog. Her puzzled expression was exactly what I was aiming for.
The Question of “Are You Done?”
Now that it’s been years since we last announced a pregnancy, people are eager to know if we’re “done.” I smile and respond that we’re adopting, which we are, but then the questions keep coming: “Why not have another biologically?” “Is it too late for you?” “How are you preventing pregnancy?” To make them uncomfortable, I might say, “I’m on psychiatric meds that make pregnancy unsafe. My doctor says no more babies, so this womb is closed unless I undergo a miraculous change.”
As for how we’re “preventing,” that’s none of your business.
When it comes to my reproductive decisions, only those responsible for the love and care of the children get a say. Not family, not friends, not internet commentators, and certainly not the random person in the grocery store. Compliment my kids, say they’re loud, but for goodness’ sake, don’t tell me I should have a daughter or ask if I’m pregnant.
Summary
Navigating the world of parenthood often means facing unsolicited opinions about family planning. Whether it’s comments about timing, the choice to have children, gender expectations, or inquiries about future plans, the message remains: my reproductive choices are mine alone. These decisions are a private matter and should be respected, no matter how curious others may be.
For more insights into family planning and home insemination, check out resources like Mount Sinai’s infertility support and Cryobaby’s at-home insemination kit, which provide valuable information on these topics.
