One and Done. No, Really.

I have one child. When strangers and acquaintances learn this fact about me, I have at times, heard one of the following responses:

“Oh, you’ll definitely want more children someday.”

“Kids really need siblings.”

“I couldn't imagine only having one child. What if your kid dies? I have friends who have lost a sibling.”

“Were you unable to have more children or did you decide to have one for financial reasons?”

As much as I appreciate the interest in and critique of my procreation choice from people I hardly know, I’m going to make the educated assumption that folks with 2-3 children do not get asked these questions.

In my extensive research (okay, talking to a few friends), this line of questioning only happens to those of us with less than two children and more than three.

The folks with more than three kids often hear one of these responses:

“Wow, I guess you and your husband couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“I don’t know how you manage it or afford them. I’d never be able to handle that many children.”

“Did you mean to have so many children or were any of them accidents?”

“Are you trying to be the next Brady Bunch/Duggars?”

Oy.  So the 0-1 or 4 plus sets are either seen as selfish, possibly infertile, cheapskates (the former) or on the flip side oversexed, careless, baby machines (the latter). Way to generalize, folks.

While I do have some friends who have one child because of fertility or adoption challenges and/or financial reasons, that is not my story. So for those inquiring minds, I’ve decided to share what led Jim and me to be one and done.

When I was younger, I used to think I wanted three kids. I had a small family (one sibling, no first cousins) and enjoyed the chaos, love and laughter that arose when I joined friends for their large family gatherings.  In my early to later twenties, I was a preschool teacher and not to be immodest, but I was great at it. I loved kids and  they loved me. Though exhausted at the end of those active work days and burned out by the time I left teaching, I still thought that I’d want at least two or three of my own.

I continued to have that mindset when I got married at 29. Then I hit 30 the age I always imagined that I would start popping out babies - especially if I was going to have all of my spawn before 35 - my goal. The problem was that I didn’t feel emotionally ready for kids at that time. My husband and I hadn’t even been married a year. We wanted to travel and enjoy married life with just the two of us for a bit. 

After leaving teaching a few years before and essentially starting over, I was promoted at work and just starting to get into a professional groove. I knew that when I had children, I’d continue to work but I also believed that when I did,  I’d want to lean back a bit in my career. (Side note: This doesn’t mean I don’t support Sheryl Sandburg in her efforts to get women to Lean In. As Amy Poehler wrote in her wonderful book, Yes, Please in response to other women's life choices that she didn’t follow; “Good for her, not for me.”)

I decided to wait a bit and when the time was right, we started trying. After a few months, I got pregnant with Holly. My pregnancy sucked. I threw up for five months straight – morning, noon and night. I had an abnormal test scare which had me in tears for two weeks until I found out everything was fine. While super excited about the life growing inside of me, I felt pretty shitty during over half the pregnancy. Luckily, I had an easy birth and beautiful healthy baby girl.

The first year of parenthood was tiring but not that challenging for me. I totally thought that puke and all, I’d want to go through it again at some point. Then my dad died, I was in a job I hated, Holly started walking and spouting a constant stream of “Nos.” I was stressed and unhappy. Ignoring my growing anxiety, I pushed forward with my plan to have another child because, well, everyone else was doing it, I listened to all the voices telling me Holly needed to have a sibling, and I was 34 going on 35.  My biological clock was ticking! 

I became pregnant within a few months again but nine weeks later, I miscarried though I had no signs that anything was wrong. I was still throwing up when the ultrasound showed that my baby had no heartbeat. I was surprised, sad, exhausted, and angry. Everything you’d expect. My emotional state went downhill from there, only partly because of the miscarriage. I was worried and upset about so many things: my own health, my mom’s financial future, my crappy job, my grandmother who was in and out of the same hospital where my dad had lay dying less than a year before. Anxiety, fear and depression essentially took over my life for seven or eight months.

I finally allowed myself to grieve over my dad and I got help with my struggles. When the metaphorical clouds finally parted and the “sun” came out again in my mind, I thought again about having another child.  I was a different person and so was my husband. He was so happy to see me happy again and didn’t want to mess with my newly fragile state of contentment. Also, as an only child himself, he was very ready to announce us done with children. I still wasn’t sure. It’s hard to give up the things you thought you wanted when you were younger even when they become incompatible with your current needs.

I would say it wasn’t until I was 38 that I determined that I really was done. Parenthood is such an immense joy. But I also find it really hard. I finally accepted what I subconsciously knew; that I don't have the energy or patience to be a great parent to multiple children. I also decided that I didn’t really want to be an older parent starting over again. (This is not a criticism of older parenthood. Remember? “Good for her, not for me.”) I understand that having a sibling can be great - I have one and love him – but there is no guarantee that they will be a lifelong friend and companion to your child. 

We are extremely lucky. Holly is never lacking for company. Our close friends and their children have truly become our extended family. Holly has dozens of “cousins.” And while our one child was not the result of financial considerations, we have been able to do things and go places that would have been tough with more children.

We all make choices in our lives. I would never begrudge those who have chosen to have no children, one child, or multiple children. I also know others who have painfully had that choice made for them and when people make comments about their one or no child status, it hurts them. 

I hope people who read this try to do a better job supporting and understanding other parents (and non-parents) in this area. I also hope they stop and think the next time they consider making personally invasive comments and asking questions about strangers and acquaintances procreation decisions.

 

It doesn't have to be the loneliest number