It’s a question I find myself answering frequently: “Are you planning on having more kids?” Curiosity often leads strangers to inquire when they see me with just one child. However, it’s the follow-up remark that can be a painful reminder of our journey. “You should have more children; your daughter shouldn’t be an only child!”
Is there something inherently wrong with having only one child? On the surface, we present as a typical family of three, radiating joy and laughter that suggests a perfect life. Yet, beneath that facade lies a complex story filled with years of infertility struggles, heartbreaking loss, and the anxiety surrounding a premature birth. This is precisely why I wish people would refrain from asking if my partner and I intend to expand our family.
From a young age, I envisioned myself as a mother, often imagining a family with two kids, a loving spouse, a dog, and a charming home surrounded by a white picket fence. However, life has a way of deviating from our plans. My husband and I grappled with the emotional toll of infertility for several years. Each month brought hope, only to end in the disappointment of a negative pregnancy test. It felt as though fate was playing a cruel trick on us; why couldn’t a couple so eager to become parents achieve that dream?
Our sorrow turned to astonishment when we learned we were expecting triplets. At last, it seemed our family would grow complete. We began preparing for their arrival with excitement, but just five months into my pregnancy, I went into premature labor. Our three babies entered the world over 17 weeks early.
The agony of losing a child is something no one can prepare for. It’s an unimaginable tragedy that seems to happen to others, never to you. Within two months, we lost two of our triplets, and I found myself engulfed in grief. There were days when simply getting out of bed felt like an insurmountable task.
As I coped with the harsh reality, I became increasingly concerned about how others would perceive our family. After our first daughter passed away, I worried about what strangers would think. Would they assume my remaining child was a twin? After our son died, I found myself pondering the legacy of my children. Would our surviving child be seen merely as an only child, with her siblings in Heaven forgotten?
After countless medical appointments and therapies, our surviving triplet is now a vibrant and healthy little girl. Her fragile beginnings are now a distant memory. As we embrace life with our one child here and two in Heaven, my husband and I feel a sense of peace. Our family is complete and content, no longer dwelling on “what ifs.”
Recently, while shopping, a stranger complimented my daughter and then posed the dreaded question, “Are you going to have more children?” Although I understood she meant no harm, her query made me uneasy. I responded politely that we are perfectly happy with our miracle child, only to hear the familiar refrain: “She can’t be an only child.”
With tears welling up, I smiled and replied, “She’s not. She has a brother and sister in Heaven who love her dearly.” As I walked away, I looked at my daughter. To many, she may seem like our only visible child, but she will always be a triplet. Our family isn’t defined by the number of children we have on this earth; we are just right as we are.
For those interested in topics related to fertility and parenting, you can find more insights on artificial insemination and boosting fertility supplements at Make a Mom. If you’re seeking further information about pregnancy, I recommend visiting this National Institute of Child Health and Human Development resource. Additionally, for more engaging content, check out this blog post.
In summary, the journey of parenting is often filled with unspoken struggles and triumphs that many never see. Our family, while appearing as a typical trio, carries stories of love, loss, and resilience that shape our identity.