My husband and I recently made a pact to have no more children. We have just one daughter, who is still a baby. To some people, choosing to only have one may not seem like a big deal. To me, itās a huge deal.
Ever since I was a kid I dreamed of having a ābig enough family to play baseball.ā It used to really upset me that our family of four could never orchestrate a full baseball game in our backyard. But even my wiser adult self longed for multiple childrenāthe thought of epic family gatherings, the fascinating dynamics between us and the somewhat reasonable logic that if something, god forbid, were to happen to one of my children, at least I would have others that would go on living.
Another reason I wanted more than one was because of my own wonderful experience growing up with my little sister, Emily. Sheās two years younger than me but weāre as telepathic as twins. We have a tendency to speak broken French and get all existential when weāre drunk. We both know just about every horrible, embarrassing, asinine thing each of us has ever done and we still love each other. When my parents die, Emily will be the only one who will understand what Iām feeling.
So how did my husband and I come to this decision to have just our one daughter? We stepped back and took an objective look at our lives, and what would be best for each of us. I have deeply neglected my husband since our babyās birth, and itās taken a sledgehammer to our marriage. I hate to say it, but I fear another baby would push us toward the āDā word. Iām also very career-driven. I know that these things can coexist for some women, but Iām not one of them. The idea of putting my work life on hold another 10 years so I can squeeze out a couple more kids is devastating to me.
And then thereās our daughter. Yes, a sibling may enrich her life. But it may not. And thereās money. Having another baby may mean waiting years until we can buy a house. It may mean skimping on healthy food, or going back on food stamps, which we had to use for the first few months of babyās life. It may mean having no money for our retirement. It may mean a lower quality of life for everyone. Though nothing compares to that surge of joy when you first lay eyes on your newborn baby, this is what logic is telling me: Having another baby is irresponsible.
Still, Iām struggling to abandon my prejudices against onlies and families of three. This is terrible, but Iāve always viewed parents of one child as weirdoes or a pair who doesnāt really love each other. Iām pretty sure this goes back to my familyās opinion of onlies. I canāt even count the number of times my mom or someone in my family told a story about a bizarre or antisocial individual and followed up with the disclaimer, āshe was an only child, you know.ā
The family we bought our house from in Texas was a single mother and her only child. Somehow we learned from a neighbor that they used to swim naked in the pool. I got it in my head that this mother and her child were pervs, and it was all because this depraved single mother didnāt bestow a sibling upon her poor daughter. Then there was my motherās childhood friend, a girl who was always a weirdo and grew up to be a “fat, divorced weirdo.”
āShe was an only child, though,ā my mom will explain. Duh, everyone knows a lack of siblings is the leading cause of obesity and divorcedness.