The Seed 2.0
Yesterday, my only child turned 8-years-old.
Eight years as a family of three; eight years doubting everything I’m doing; eight years wondering how we’re all still alive; and eight whole years answering questions about when I’m going to have another baby.
In terms of motherhood, I’ve gotten used to the wonder, the worry, and the second-guessing. I’ve even gotten used to the guilt, the self-loathing, and the inexplicable time-travel that has taken me from 2011 to 2019 in the blink of an eye. What I haven’t gotten used to though – what I’ll never get used to – are the questions involving my uterus.
When Rod and I were first married, inquiries about having our first child came at us like mosquitos, nagging and biting and dotting us whenever we left the house. So, when I first became pregnant with Van, I thought I had bought myself some time, you know, since my womb was already in use.
But just a few months in, I found myself answering questions about how many more kids we wanted and whether we hoped for a boy and a girl.
“I don’t know,” I’d usually say. “I just want this one to be funny.”
“Well you have time,” they’d respond with one eyebrow cocked, as if to say, “But don’t wait too long. Perhaps try getting pregnant with your second baby while you’re pregnant with this one. I bet your uterus could take it!”
Eight years later and it’s still just us, the three of us, still doing our best and still fumbling for answers as to why another baby has yet to take up residence in my gut.
As a result, I’ve learned to offer several artificial stock responses to make the crusader – whoever he or she may be – feel better about what’s going on inside my body. You know, because simply saying, “I don’t want another kid,” would never suffice. Some of these responses include:
Van was a perfect baby and there’s no way we would ever be blessed like that twice!
The children would be so far apart in age, I worry they wouldn’t be close [insert animated, sad, pouty face here].
I’m not as strong as I look! I could never manage more than one child!
It’s a lot harder to find a babysitter for two children than it is one!
It wasn’t until last summer that I put an end to providing any rationale to the question of a second child following a conversation with a group of people about why we don’t have more kids. At one point I said, “One of my biggest regrets in life is not having one more.”
Without missing a beat, my dear friend Lindsy, a mother of one herself, said, “Really? I mean, are you really a two-child parent? Is that really what you want?”
It was then I realized she was right and that I’m not a two-child parent. I’m a one-child parent and that’s exactly the way I like it.
Not having a second child is NOT one of my biggest regrets in life. In fact, it’s far from it. No, my biggest regret is not buying the Manolo Blahnik’s I stalked for the better part of year to wear on my wedding day. But I digress.
See, Lindsy wasn’t judging me by questioning my excuse (which was far more ill-fitting than those Manolo’s would have been). Rather, she was providing me with the freedom to stop making excuses for why I am a one and done mom. It’s OK, is what she meant. Enjoy who you are with Van and stop feeding into the notion that you need to rationalize your choices to anyone. And, as a mother, I’m not sure anyone had ever given me that kind of immunity until that day.
But as important as it is for women to support the autonomy of another, it’s even more important we stop asking these questions in the first place.
The thing is, no one owes anyone an explanation when it comes to their reproductive plans. Would you ask a woman when she had her last period? Or about her vagina in general? No? Then why are we asking one another about the single biggest decision any of us can make? Again, we’re talking about human life here, not whether someone prefers turkey or ham. Having kids is a really big deal and one I hope no one is able to answer with the same kind of frivolity used to explain what we prefer on a sandwich. Children are not sandwiches, folks. Remember that.
The choice not to have children or not to have more children is personal. It’s a decision made between two partners and it’s one Rod and I made a long time ago. I don’t owe you an explanation as to why we have no plans to have another, and when it comes to your uterus, you don’t owe me anything either.
For me though, and the many women like me who either don’t want any more children or don’t want them in the first place, while the question can be bothersome and intrusive, it’s certainly not painful. What about the countless women who desperately want children but cannot have them? What about the women who have undergone IVF, experienced miscarriages, or lost a child at birth or soon thereafter? What kind of explanation are they to give? When confronted with the question of why they have been married for [insert number of years here] and still have yet to bear a child, they’re really only left with two options: Either brush it off, which they’re unlikely to do because women are honest, endearing people, or tell the truth, which could very likely open a wound they’re not ready to redress but feel the need to do.
And here’s the thing: the question itself is innocent. It’s most likely not coming from a place of malice or ill will; it’s simply used to make idle chitchat with anyone from family members to colleagues. But just because the question isn’t intended to be harmful does not mean it is not, which is why I think we should take it out of our collective repertoire altogether. In place of, “When are you going to have children?” Or “When are you going to have another?” How about we try the following in the new year instead:
What are you reading?
What’s the last great show you binge-watched?
Can you recommend any good bands?
Do you have any plans for the weekend?
What are your favorite vacation destinations?
Who’s your favorite serial killer?
Do you listen to podcasts? I have a few I can recommend (click here).
Have you been to the [insert new park or restaurant in the area]?
And finally, I love your (hair, skin, eyelashes, eyebrows, etc.). What do you use?