Please Stop Asking Me When I’m Having Another Baby…

I really hate when people ask about baby number two. I swear they start asking days after baby number one arrives. Aww, your baby is so adorable. You and your husband need to make more. A boy! He’s going to need a sister–or a brother–a playmate–and soon! You had one–just keep going–what’s one more? You say you don’t want another one right now, but you’ll change your mind–you’ll see. Um…no I don’t think I will…but good talk.

Hello! I need to get used to being responsible for one tiny human. How the eff am I supposed to even think about more than that right now? And at the end of year one of new motherhood? Yeah, I’m still getting used to being responsible for my only tiny human. At the end of year two? Yup, nothing has changed. Still adjusting to taking care of the one single human.

I don’t just hate when people ask me about having more babies. I hate when anyone gets asked this question. How about it’s none of your fucking business! How do you know if someone desperately wants more children, but isn’t having the easiest time conceiving again? How do you know that a mom hasn’t suffered one or multiple miscarriages? How do you know if one parent wants more and the other doesn’t and it’s causing strain on the marriage? You don’t! If someone wants to talk to you about having more babies, they will. You don’t need to prompt them to have the discussion. If they don’t bring it up with you, then it’s probably an off-limits conversation right now. Respect it.

The topic of more babies comes up for me a lot–most likely because I have decided and made it pretty clear that I won’t be popping out any more babies…ever. This vagina will be staying intact, this stomach will remain stitched closed (except maybe for a future tummy tuck). My son is three years old now and I have not once had the inkling to have another baby. It’s just not the right decision for me. My family feels complete. My husband fully supports this. I won’t apologize.

This is not to say in a different world, maybe I would give my son a sibling. But in this life, it’s just not happening. I can’t do it. I’m not built for it. Postpartum depression the first time around is part of it, but there is so much more. I am who I am and have become so self-aware of my limitations. I 100% know that being a mommy of multiples is one of them. I would be miserable. I would be a horrible wife. I would be a half-assed mother. I would probably end up a divorcee. And so I choose to give my son a happy, healthy mommy rather than a sibling. He will be okay. He will be loved. He will be happy, independent, social, compassionate, and kind. He will be surrounded by family, friends, and lots of cousins. I know this because as his mommy, I am committed to it. Again, I will not apologize for my choices.

People usually fall in to two different camps when they find out you are only having one child: the supporters and the haters. I’ve had the pleasure of dealing with both. The haters can’t comprehend having an only child. These children need siblings. It’s a mom’s duty and sacrifice to provide siblings. They focus more on the well-being of the child than the well-being of the mother, but I believe these go hand in hand. They do for me, at least.

My supporters are always saying, “Be you, do you.” They text and email articles discussing the benefits of only children or why only children are just as bratty, spoiled, social, and resilient as children with siblings. They remind me to ignore the haters–to focus on what’s best for my family–to remember I have the backing of the most important supporter, my husband.

So please don’t tell me I need to have more babies. You don’t know what I need. Only I know what I need. And stop asking too. Unless you are part of a select group of a few close friends and family members, I’m not going to discuss this with you and I’m not going to waste my time justifying my decision–because I don’t have to–it’s my decision. Well it’s my husband’s and my decision. And we are happy and comfortable with it. We love our unit of three. We love each other. This is what works for us and that’s what matters. And once again, no apologies.

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