It’s a question I encounter frequently: “Are you planning to have more children?” Curiosity often leads strangers to inquire when they see me with just one child. Yet, it’s the comment that often follows that strikes a chord of sadness in me. A phrase that many may not realize can be hurtful: “You should have more kids. Your daughter can’t be an only child!”
Is having just one child really so wrong? At first glance, we appear to be your typical family of three, radiating joy and laughter. However, beneath that surface lies a complex narrative filled with struggles of infertility, the heartbreak of losing a child, and the anxiety surrounding a premature birth. This is precisely why I wish people would refrain from asking my husband and me about expanding our family.
From an early age, I envisioned my life as a mother to two children, alongside a loving partner and a cozy home. However, life didn’t unfold as I had imagined. My husband and I grappled with the pain of infertility for years, with every month bringing a new wave of disappointment as we faced negative pregnancy tests. It felt as if the universe was playing a cruel prank on two people who desperately wanted to be parents.
Just when we thought hope was within reach, we received the shocking news that we were expecting triplets. Our joy was short-lived, as complications arose during my pregnancy. Five months in, I unexpectedly went into labor, and our three babies were born over 17 weeks premature.
The loss of a child is a tragedy that no one can prepare for. It’s an unimaginable heartache that leaves you questioning everything. Within two months, we lost two of our triplets. During those early moments of grief, simply getting out of bed felt like an insurmountable task.
As the reality of our loss settled in, I found myself worrying about how others would perceive us. After the death of our first daughter, I began to wonder if strangers would think my surviving child was a twin. Following the loss of our son, I was again consumed by thoughts about how our family would be viewed. Would anyone remember the siblings she lost?
After years of therapy and countless medical appointments, our surviving triplet, Lily, is now a vibrant and healthy child. Her fragile beginnings have become a distant memory. As we embrace our life with one child here on earth and two in Heaven, my husband and I have found a sense of peace. Our family is whole and happy, and we no longer dwell on “what could have been.”
Recently, while shopping, a stranger complimented Lily’s cuteness but then followed up with the dreaded question, “Are you going to have more children?” Although I knew her intentions were innocent, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. I responded kindly, explaining that we are complete with our miracle girl. That’s when I heard the comment I’ve come to resent: “She can’t be an only child.”
With tears brimming in my eyes, I smiled and replied, “She’s not. She has a brother and sister in Heaven who love her dearly.” As I walked away, I glanced at Lily. To the outside world, she may be our only child, but she will forever be a triplet in our hearts. Our family isn’t defined by the number of living children; we are perfect just as we are.
For those grappling with family planning, you might find resources like this one on pregnancy useful, or consider exploring home insemination options for a deeper understanding. If you’re curious about essential tools, check out this site for their expert insights.
In summary, the journey of family planning is unique and deeply personal, shaped by experiences that often go unseen. It’s crucial to approach conversations about family size with sensitivity and awareness, as you never know the story behind a family’s makeup.