Trigger warning: child loss
Please, refrain from asking a woman when she plans to have another child—or any child, for that matter. There’s no suitable time or reason to bring up such sensitive topics.
Recently, while chatting with a fellow mom, our conversation naturally shifted to our children. We discovered that our toddlers are nearly the same age, and she confided her frustration over being bombarded with questions about when she’ll have another baby.
I couldn’t help but respond with an empathetic sigh and my usual “ugh,” because that question is truly exhausting.
“I’m not sure if I want another one—I’m already so worn out,” she admitted. “People keep saying I shouldn’t wait too long because my kids will be too far apart, but I’m okay with a gap. The truth is, I know I’m not ready for another right now. But they keep telling me I’ll be too old soon.”
Then she quietly added, “Honestly, I don’t even know if I can HAVE another.”
In that moment, I was grateful that time constraints prevented me from diving deep into my own experiences with similar inquiries.
I didn’t share my own journey with these kinds of remarks.
I didn’t mention that, unlike her, I desired to have children closer in age.
I didn’t reveal that my story includes loss, and there was a time when I too questioned if I could have another child.
I didn’t tell her about the baby shower where someone asked me when I was having another baby while I was still reeling from my first loss just months earlier. I should have been celebrating my own baby shower around that time, but my baby never made it to that point.
I didn’t share how someone told me I was running out of time to have another child on the due date of my baby who was stillborn. Or how challenging it was to fake a smile and brush off that comment before I could leave the situation. Or how I started to doubt myself as a mother for not yet giving my living child a sibling.
I didn’t disclose that I’m currently in a phase where I feel ready for another child, but the opportunity for that now feels out of reach.
But honestly, she didn’t need to hear all of that.
Yet, it seems many people still do, perhaps out of genuine concern or simply as a form of small talk. Regardless of intention, that question can stir discomfort, frustration, and even profound pain.
Instead, I reassured her that it’s perfectly fine if she chooses to have just one child. I shared that my children are five years apart and how that age difference has brought its own blessings. I emphasized that whatever choice she makes will be the right one, and that sometimes, the outcome is beyond our control.
I reminded her that she’ll know when the time is right to either stop at one child or consider having another. What “they” say doesn’t need to dictate her choices, nor does it reflect her worth as a mother or woman.
Whether one child, none, or several, we all deserve to feel validated as mothers and women. The number of children we have—or that others think we should have—shouldn’t define us.
Conversations about a woman’s family planning are deeply personal and should remain private. These questions can sting and evoke feelings of inadequacy. They can feel judgmental, as if we’re not measuring up to someone else’s expectations of motherhood.
So please, keep those questions and comments to yourself. The journey of motherhood is often far more complex than it appears.
For more insights on fertility and family planning, check out this excellent resource on donor insemination.
Summary
The author reflects on the inappropriate questions women face regarding their family planning, sharing a personal experience without delving into painful details. She emphasizes the importance of respecting individual choices and recognizing the complexities of motherhood.