It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman in possession of one child must be in want of another.Ok, so perhaps skewing the famous opening line of one of Austen’s pieces of literary genius might make me sound a little aggressive about this situation I find myself thrust into, but I am bewildered at the barrage of unprompted questions of this nature that I’ve been fielding of late.
It actually feels as if I’ve been deflecting this interrogation since Harrison was knee-high to a butterfly. But the closer he crept to the age of two, the more frequent the inquiries became. It’s as awkward as when a childless couple, secretly trying to fall pregnant, face an onslaught of ill-timed, intrusive, questions regarding their offspring-free state. To me it’s just as delicate and personal a position and one that I struggle to articulate eloquently just why I may decide to be a mum of one.
Friends and family, who know the score of why I am hesitant to head towards a number two child, are forgiven for their questioning – I know it comes from a place of care. It’s the relative strangers (usually smugly in possession of a brood of three or more) who someone manage to make this insecure mum of one feel like a failure for not going forth and increasing the world’s population.
The weekly playgroup I attend is littered with mums of multiple children. Harrison is an anomaly in a sea of several offspring. I know it’s a case of me being silly and insecure but it feels as if I am secretly judged for taking the so-called easy route (no pun intended). I often stare, incredulously, as these brave women patrol their numerous children without so much a sigh or dark circled eye in sight and am bewildered by the conundrum of some who contemplate going back for a third, or God forbid, FOURTH child. I feel like shrivelling into insignificance in their midst. What do they have that I lack, that made them able to go back for more?
Admittedly, I’ll get the occasional flutter of desire to have a second child, but more frequently the thought results in a cold fisted clench of dread encircling my heart, and my mind racing with “do I really have to go through it all again?” To those people who roll their eyes and remark nonchalantly that “you forget the pain of labour the minute its over”, I have three words: third degree tear. Deal with one of those for six months and come back to me and tell me how quickly it was you wiped the agony from your memory.
So you combine the trauma and complications of labour, with failure to breastfeed and a bone fide catnapping child, and viola, it’s a recipe for a single child family.
Perhaps, for me it is also the isolation issue. I think if you have a super support network surrounding you, it might be easier to decide you are up for the challenge to take on the parenthood triathlon yet again… However the lifestyle we have translates into much seclusion for me, meaning some days it feels like I need superhuman strength to survive the 13-hour solo stretches amusing one demanding child – throw a needy newborn into the mix and my sanity might take a beating! Although I do concede welcoming a second child may be the key to unlocking a social support circle in our new community…
I am sure many conclude the only child is the “nouveau selfish”, or the “easy road” that this millennium’s adults are opting to take. It’s their answer to the childless couple of the 90’s who greedily want to have it all, but not have to also change nappies along the way.
The picture painted is that this is the far too easy option in life and if you are going to give birth only once, why bother to do it at all? They extol the belief that this is bound to induce a life of silver-spoon-esque style of doting on said singular offspring. But what of the financial security you can promise them, having only their education and interests at heart? I mean, there’s a reason that birth control is one of the only industries to have experienced boom times during the GFC – and its not because we have all suddenly become sensible when it comes to sex. Its super expensive to raise one child, let alone two.
Then there is the promise that your undivided attention will always fall to only them, therefore they should flourish under your exclusive concentration. Plus, they need not ever have to vie for your affections – or top spot as the favourite child (c’mon mums and dads, don’t lie, we know you got yours too!). Or, how to save them the embarrassment of having a clingy younger sister/brother constantly begging to be included on their play dates, or the weekends filled to bursting as the scheduled extracurricular activities of multiple children see you trying to go seven different directions in the same timeframe.
And lets face it, being a one-child family would mean one less mini-van or four-wheel drive on the road. Bliss!
I’m aware I’ll be better emotionally equipped the second time around, with the benefit of first hand experience and hindsight offering a huge advantage to heading for number two. But whether all the psychological preparation in the universe can set me up for a successful stab at giving Harrison a sibling remains to be seen.
Some days I’m not unsure a good slap across the face might just do the trick to snap me out of this funk and tell me to just get over it already – its in the past and long may it stay that way (though I am rather stubborn so success is not guaranteed!). I mean my Nan, God bless her, also proclaimed to be only ever having the one child; and she then proceeded to go back for nine more. I suppose, dear Husband, there is small hope for your footy team yet!
I’ve been having the exact same frustration at the moment. We have been asked from the day Will was born, when the next one is coming. People seem to just ask, not stopping to think that maybe you would like one and it just hasn’t happenend yet, maybe you’ve had a miscarriage and that kind of question can really hurt, maybe one is enough for you. I’m tempted to put those sort of people in the same category as the ones who tell you their horror birth/pregnancy stories as soon as you have a bump, whether you want to hear or not. Sorry to rant – this is a big issue with me! I hope that they stop asking you!
i hear ya.
the expectancy is not less when you are, at the end of your 30s, into a 2nd immigration-shotgun marriage, with 2 new teenage stepchildren, your own toddler and no job. mother-in-law is a darling most times but it needed my husbands exasperated bark about the smug, teasing questions until she stopped.
we have heaps of reasons NOT to have that child together and still OF COURSE i would love to.
but when i get too dreamy about it, the memory of my birth (horror after a smooth pregnancy cruise) gives me a good reality check too.
yeah, it’s about ME. the mother is sort of the most concerned person no ?
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I hear you too….
Single mum of one and I am still asked when I will have another…
BUT after a depression filled pregnancy which was detected at 2 weeks after accidental conception due to major morning sickness that lasted basically 9 months including during the 4 day labour that ended up with a c-section.
10 days in hospital, inability to breast feed, lactose intolerance and the hysterics of a baby with Reflux with a failure to thrive, sleeping difficulties and then all the crap that comes with settling etc… etc…
I AM IN NO RUSH to have another and the ONLY way I would possibly do it is with a VERY committed partner who DESPERATELY wanted a biological child and was MORE THAN willing and CAPABLE of taking on a lot of parenting responsibilities because having done it on my won I have no intentions of doing that again!!!!… and that is exactly my answer to these people…. I only ever get asked once in a group!
People really should mind their own Bleeping business!
Thanks so much for all the feedback and support – hate to hear you are facing the same heat but nice to know I am not alone in my thoughts! Hope the journey is kind to you all x
A wonderful post, Donna. Thoughtful, heartfelt, meaningful. I don’t think you could have summed up how it feels for you (back on 10 August!) any better.
You’ll know from my post that I am as bewildered by my own silly prejudice as I now am by the fact that many commenters seemed to agree with me! I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting to be severely admonished and sent on my way. It’s all a bit bizarre really as I felt I was the only person with this silliness.
Rest assured, only you know what is the ‘right number’ for your family. Prejudice abounds no matter how many children you have (if I had a dollar for everytime someone has said to me “you’ve got your hands full there” or “haven’t you heard of the pill” har har or “how can they call get the attention they deserve?”… I mean, I have THREE, not 13!). Argh, we can’t win.
Which is sort of my point. We can only speak about how WE feel and what works for US. I don’t ever expect that other people’s choices are going to be the same as my own, but I only know what I know and can only listen to another’s point of view.
I like that very much about blogging. In fact, it’s my favourite part. x
PS – Sorry for the essay!!! x