It all began quite early — much earlier than I anticipated. My first child, Leo, was just a little over one year old when I found myself chatting with my father on the phone about the possibility of expanding our family. “You really don’t want to have another child right now,” he retorted. “We had you and your sister close in age, and it was incredibly challenging. Trust me, it will ruin your life.” Just a note: my sister and I are 16 months apart, which would have been further apart than any siblings Leo would have had, even if we had decided to take a spontaneous detour on the road to parenthood.
And, wow, thanks for the revelation that my mere existence was a burden, Dad. That’s definitely on my list of things I never wanted to hear — right alongside any details about my parents’ intimate life and the latest political scandals.
Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the last time my reproductive choices were scrutinized. Once you have children, your private life becomes a topic of public interest, drawing unsolicited opinions from friends, family, and even random strangers. This curiosity manifests in various ways, especially from older women who seem particularly eager to share their thoughts on your family dynamics, the number of children you have, and how parenthood affects your life. It’s exhausting, infuriating, and most importantly, it’s none of their business.
Unwanted Commentary on Timing
From the moment I announced my second pregnancy, I was inundated with remarks about timing. My family was less than thrilled when I found out I was expecting again while Leo was only 15 months old, making him and his soon-to-arrive sister, Mia, just 22 months apart. During brunch at a favorite café, while Leo played next to us, my mother stated emphatically, “You shouldn’t have another baby right now; it’s too close together.” Little did she know, I was already pregnant and feeling awfully sick about it. I sulked through the rest of that meal and didn’t speak to her for months. How do you explain to someone who thinks you shouldn’t have more kids that you’re already in the thick of it?
And if we hadn’t gotten pregnant at that time, I would have faced the dreaded “When will the next one arrive?” inquiries. At a routine check-up, the nurse commented on Leo’s early walking, saying, “Looks like you’re ready for the next one.” Uh, no, thank you.
We never faced the annoying comments about having an only child, either. “You don’t want just one,” people warn. “They’ll be selfish or lonely.” If you dare to suggest that one child is enough, brace yourself for an onslaught of arguments about how your child will be burdened with caring for you in your old age. The relentless questioning is exhausting.
Invasive Questions About My Choices
Then came the inquiries from just about everyone, from close friends to Target cashiers. With a toddler on my back and a baby bump on display, people felt entitled to ask, “Was it planned?” It’s baffling how some think it’s appropriate to inquire about my birth control methods. I often replied, “Yes, it was planned,” while internally fuming at the audacity of the question. My family planning is private, and I refuse to discuss what happens in my bedroom with anyone outside of it.
When I got pregnant with my third child, Mia, while she was just 16 months younger than Leo, the questions about family planning intensified. Interestingly, I never received any flippant remarks during our time at church. The Catholic community was respectful, simply saying, “Congratulations!”
Comments on Gender Expectations
Growing up, I always envisioned myself surrounded by sons, though I would have welcomed a daughter. So, when I was pregnant with my third child, people would enthusiastically ask, “Did you finally get your girl?” as if the sole reason for having a child was to achieve a specific gender outcome. “No, we got a boy, just like we wanted,” I would say, feigning sweetness while internally rolling my eyes. I do not owe explanations to anyone regarding my family size or composition.
Now, as I navigate parenting three sons, ages 7, 5, and 3, I often hear comments like, “Oh, you have your hands full with all those boys! How do you manage?” Well, I don’t need anyone’s sympathy; I just need my 3-year-old to stop yelling.
The Constant “Are You Done?” Queries
Years have passed since we last announced a pregnancy, and now, people are eager to know if we are “done.” I often respond with, “We’re adopting,” which is true, but then the probing continues: “Why not biologically?” “Are you having trouble conceiving?” I throw them off by saying, “I’m on psychiatric medication that’s not safe for pregnancy, so unless I suddenly feel better, this uterus is closed for business.”
The details of how we prevent pregnancy? That’s none of your business, either.
Ultimately, when it comes to my family planning, the only opinions that matter are those of my partner and me. Friends, relatives, or random strangers in the grocery store have no say in our reproductive choices. Compliment my kids, acknowledge their energy, but for goodness’ sake, refrain from suggesting I need a girl or inquiring about my pregnancy status.
For more insights into reproductive choices and privacy, check out our privacy policy, and if you’re looking for more information on home insemination options, this guide is an excellent resource to consider. You can also explore intrauterine insemination for pregnancy-related services.
Summary:
Navigating the world of parenting often comes with unsolicited opinions and invasive questions regarding family planning and reproductive choices. From comments on timing to inquiries about gender preferences, the scrutiny can be overwhelming. Ultimately, the only opinions that matter in making these personal decisions are those of the parents themselves.