Only Children
A while back, Skepchick published an article from their early days. Risa Beckwith explained the pressures she faced as a woman who had decided not to have kids:
So here’s the reality: I am childfree. That means that I have no children…by choice.
Those of us who identify as childfree use this term instead of ‘childless’ – because ‘childless’ implies there is a lack of something in our lives. People without ferrets wouldn’t identify themselves as ‘ferretless.’
Childfree does not mean that I hate children. I like older children. I just don’t want any of my own. Very smart people look at me like I have two heads if I ever say that I don’t really like babies, so I rarely bring it up anymore. Saying that I don’t like cats but I don’t kill cats either also does not help.
She goes on to list the most common ignorant reactions by people who don’t believe her when she says she isn’t interested in reproducing:
1. “You’ll change your mind.” I am nearly 35 years old. I’m pretty sure that 1) I know my own mind at this point, and 2) Don’t you think that if I wanted children, it would have happened by now? Other CFers prefer to say: “When did you know you wanted children? You’ll change your mind.”
I’m running into similar assumptions–and a similar entitlement people seem to feel about announcing their expert opinions on my personal life–with regard to the expectation that since I’ve recently produced one child, another one must be on the way soon.
See, it’s not enough to pop just one out. Everybody wants to know, when am I having the next one?
It’s not my friends or family who would say the most troubling things. The truly surprising remarks come out of the mouths of my coworkers. Cultural assumptions run deep, so I try not to believe people are simply rude, but slightly misguided. But imagine yourself in my shoes….
I really don’t think I could love my son more. I’m completely dazzled by him. I knew I would love my kid, but jeez, what a kid! I can’t believe how lucky I got. But I find I am also loving the growing independence I have as he gets to be a toddler. I enjoy working, and I have to find time for writing. Throw in the second great depression and some serious job insecurity for my family, the fact that my husband and I got started on the whole baby making thing late, and more than anything else, this growing gut feeling that we both share that tells us that our family is perfect the way it is, and there you have it. We probably can’t afford another child, but for us, that is more of a relief than a tragedy. We’re not really anxious to have another child. And shouldn’t you be excited about any child? Just because you have one, does that make you more prepared for another one? It seems like a cataclysmic change that we’re honestly not eager to make, and our age means we’re basically deciding to stop at one–barring any unforseen accidents.
So in answer to the surprisingly intrusive question about whether I’m having a second child soon, I’d love to say, “Not interested. I’m very happy with just one child, and it worked out that way, so I’m stoked! Yay me!” But that doesn’t seem to be the right answer.
Here are the things I’ve heard at work.
From one of my supervisors, who also recently had a baby: “Have you ever met an only child? Aren’t they awful?” This was his way of saying that he and his wife plan on having a second child. Replace any minority for “only child” and you realize how terrible this sounds. Yet he felt comfortable saying it casually.
From another coworker: “My mother said never have just one baby. You should have another one.”
No, I’ve never met this coworker’s mother, but she seems to know me.
I’ve learned that the only acceptable response to anyone forward enough to ask whether we’re having another baby is simply, “Well, we’ll see.” That’s all. It’s short, dismissive, open ended enough to satisfy any agenda, and it completely deflects any need to defend my own positive feelings about having just one kid.
Friends of mine who’ve also decided to stick with one child report similar pressures and probing questions from near strangers.
I don’t need to make a crusade out of my daily interactions with people. I’m not on a mission to convince the world that having only one child is valid. Screw the world. When it comes to stuff like this, I’m mostly pretty private–er, except for the writing it all on the blog thing. You know, we make an exception there.
But I do find it very interesting that I’m somewhat in the closet, in some situations, about wanting a small family. I sort of follow a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Except that I’m always getting asked. So I just tell in the vaguest way possible. And that’s the most interesting thing–that people feel entitled to ask.
“Are you going to have more?”
“Are you going to try for a girl?”
“When are you having another baby?”
I’m surprised people don’t stop to think that these might be painful questions for someone going through secondary infertility. Having known so many people who struggled with this, that’s the first issue that would stop me from asking such a personal question. I wouldn’t want to ambush a woman with that kind of emotional pain.
However, it’s certainly not the case with me that I’m trying and failing to have a second child. My husband and I are just realizing, as we get close to two years after the first, that we’re kind of thinking more about getting a dog than getting pregnant again. We got rid of our glider, we’re giving away the baby clothes, and while there’s a little doubt, mostly, we’re happy with three of us. Life’s good.
I suppose that’s another possible answer, but I’ll stick with, “We’ll see,” for now. It’s more polite, anyway, than, “None of your beeswax!”
perceval Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 3:56 am
Julie, look up Judy Dunn’s work – she’s done some sterling research on only children and siblings. There’s no evidence only children are any worse off.
Jim Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 4:34 am
We actually said we weren’t going to have any when we got married but I guess the biological imperative got the better of us. We were married for five years before we had our daughter and we love love love her but knew she would be the only one. I got a vasectomy after that. We are as happy as can be. But people are awful about it sometimes. Maybe I’m jaded, but sometimes I think other people are jealous of us and want us to have another one so we’ll know the pain of sibling rivalry. Well I have a sibling (whom I love) so I know that well. “She needs someone to play with!” She HAS more than enough people to play with, and the best part is, they go home after a while. She’s not bratty or awful. She does get a lot more stuff and attention than if we had more, but she’s completely awesome.
We love having one child. The whole only child myth is busted in the first chapter of Bill McKibben’s book Maybe One. I think more people should try it, but that’s my own personal opinion and guess what? I keep it to myself. (Well, except for just now…)
I’m actually a pretty nice guy but when people, especially strangers, say something about the fact that we “should” have more children, I’m more of a “mind your own business” type. I don’t say anything to the people who have a whole litter of children. Why should they say anything to me?
Thanks for the post!
KCorey Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 8:56 am
I happen to *be* an only child so it was rather amusing to have people start the “if you only have one child she will grow up to be an ax murderer”speech. Watching them try to back out of it once you tell them you are an only is priceless.
fanisse Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 9:54 am
I always say what I truly think. I have a very sweet little girl and what if I had another and he or she was a creep. Major buzzkill.
Stacy McKenna Seip Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 10:40 am
Hubby has always wanted three (because his family had three.. mine did too, but I think 2 would be more than adequate to entertain each other and replace our rotting corpses as time passes…). I got pregnant the same month he signed up for a PhD program. After the first was born he opined we should have another at the two year mark. I laughed in his face – go through my “I want to sleep 18 hours a day” first trimester while the first one was toddling around?! I’m not that crazy/dumb. I told him no more kids until he was done with his PhD. He’s now finishing up year *5* with no guarantee May will be the end of it, and our son is getting older every day, and just rounded the corner into the home stretch with potty training. Why would I want to add another one now…? It just doesn’t make sense to me.
I ask people if they want/plan to have more, but when they say “No, thank you” I respond with “Excellent! Congrats on the beautiful family!” or the like. And I vociferously support my child free friends in their decisions, because they all have really good reasons for not having kids – like “I don’t want any”. Really, I don’t understand what the obsession is with insisting other folk have children…
Marjorie Mullen Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 11:17 am
What a wonderful post! Surprisingly, as Grandma to Zack, and way proud parent of Julie and her wonderful husband..folks ask me…are they planning for another???!!!! As if I had some kind of secret information…or that it was even any of my business.
To just be able to hang out with this wonderful family brings me such happiness…it really never occurs to me to think of anything else. Wonderful parents, wonderful grandson…I’m the luckiest grandma in the world.
Char Nuelker Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 1:14 pm
Not that my opinion matters much, but I was an only child and hated it. I think I hate it more now than when I was young as I know that as my parents age (my parents divorced when I was 10)I worry how I by myself will care for them when the need arises. I always think it sure would be nice to have someone to help with emergencies and all that life brings to any person who is getting up there in years.
I have two kids, well because I wanted to. I cried many nights thinking my oldest would be an only child as we had trouble getting pregnant with the 2nd one. Very ironic since the first child was a surprise, not an accident, but a surprise. I guess I have never thought of kids or pregnancy as an accident. If one child is what is best for you then that is great. Only children really do turn out OK, I did !!! Good luck to you and your family!
Fiona Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 4:05 pm
People apply that to me when I say I’m not going to marry my partner. And they always say to him that I’ll convince him eventually. WE’re NOT GETTING MARRIED, people. Unless I can work my way to get an EU passport out of it
Konni Said,
March 13, 2010 @ 4:59 pm
It would be funny, just once, to concoct a really lugubrious, melodramatic story about why you can’t have another — serves the busy-body right!
Tekla Said,
March 14, 2010 @ 9:42 pm
All ya need is one good one!
Jodi Said,
March 15, 2010 @ 11:05 am
We had two kids so they entertain each other. Less work for me! Yea!
I think there are only children who are selfish and there are children with siblings who are selfish. It’s all the parenting. If you only have one child, don’t make them the king or queen of the household. Teach them life isn’t fair, you have to share, and you can’t always get your way.
Lesley B. Said,
March 15, 2010 @ 5:33 pm
My husband and I have always planned to have only one child, for a variety of reasons. We adopted a child just over a year ago and telling some people he will be our only child boggles their little tiny minds. They constantly ask us, “Don’t you want one of your own?” That comment makes me feel very stabby! The looks I get when I say, “He is our own child” are quite amusing as he is black and we are white. They don’t get that an adopted child (from Africa!!) is our own child as much as if he had journeyed through my vagina in Canada.
I’ve had some people comment that I should have/adopt a sibling, but I can usually deflect them, if need be.
Julie Said,
March 16, 2010 @ 8:05 am
Lesley,
If we have a second (unlikely, as I’ve just written), we might adopt. I admit I was one of those who ignorantly said I might, “adopt one and have one of my own” before I really knew how offensive that was to couples who have adopted. And then I got it. Of course that would be my own child!
The Nerd Said,
March 16, 2010 @ 2:17 pm
@Konni
I suggest that the next person who asks this question receive the response of her bursting into tears, crying unintelligibly about miscarriage, and then running from the room.
Chris Said,
March 16, 2010 @ 9:01 pm
The Nerd, I know a couple of mothers of only children because of multiple miscarriages.
Brooke Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 9:48 am
Thanks for this post. I’ve been totally on the fence about our family size since my daughter was born. Her birth was really traumatic for me, and the thought of being pregnant again isn’t very welcome right now. My husband and I always said that we’d make two babies, and if we wanted more than two children, we would adopt. I’ve started thinking (and talking) about possibly adopting “next time,” but I’m still not even sure I want another baby. Sure, she has her tricky moments, but our daughter (almost 1) is rockin awesome. I know I would love another child of mine (birthed or adopted) as much as Sadie, but I don’t know how I could LIKE someone as much as I like her. I come from a large family, with siblings who are making medium-to-large families of their own. I’m not getting a ton of pressure about having a second, but I don’t know how long that will last. On the other hand, since we all live in the same city, my daughter has loads of cousins to play with (seven already). Part of me doesn’t want to leave her an only child, mostly because she really does like being around other children, but another part of me kind of doesn’t want to have another baby. This feels like a much harder decision than getting pregnant with Sadie was!
Grimalkin Said,
April 11, 2010 @ 4:21 pm
I’m an only child. It’s always surprised me how unapologetic people are when they talk about how monstrous only-children are and I inform them that I happen to be one. The best I usually get is “you’re the exception that proves the rule” or “well I didn’t mean you” or “you’re parents must have been really good cause you turned out okay.” If we were discussing anything other than only-children, it would instantly be identified as putting one’s foot in one’s mount and there would be plenty of apologies all around. But only-children? Nope!
Ellen Said,
April 19, 2010 @ 11:17 pm
Just stumbled on this and felt compelled to comment.
I am suffering from secondary infertility but I’m okay with that. If the universe chooses to give me another child then so be it, but I already have a two-year-old son who has made life as beautiful as it could possibly be.
Try explaining that perspective to my mothers group (or as I like to call it, Fertility Club). There are questions, ranging from “but aren’t you really depressed about it?” and “don’t you worry about how lonely he will be?”. Then there are comments, like “Maybe you’d find it easier if you didn’t drink so much coffee”, or “Maybe your life is just too busy for you to be fertile.”
It’s the same nasty, corrosive, passive-aggressive crap you get with discussions about any aspect of parenthood.