I found myself in an unexpected situation recently at a cozy optometrist’s office. As I discovered for the first time in my 30-something years that I need corrective lenses, my well-behaved newly minted six-year-old asked for my assistance in the kiddie corner with her Legos.
Then, the question came: “Is she your only child?”
(Pause.)
“Yep. Unless you count my husband, who often acts like he’s six.”
“Wow! What are you waiting for? She needs a sibling!”
Alright, listen up, everyone.
Yes, you too. And you over there.
Do you want to know why I’ve chosen not to have another child? Or why I can’t? Because I nearly lost my life bringing her into this world. If I were to endure that kind of strain on my already fragile heart again while pregnant, I could face serious complications, endangering both myself and a baby—there’s a real chance I could die, leaving my daughter without a mother as well as a sibling. So, um, yeah, that’s my reason.
I’ve rehearsed that monologue numerous times since 2008. Not for auditions, but rather for those who don’t seem to understand boundaries.
Take the nail salon, for example. I should have known better than to indulge myself while my daughter was at school.
“You have kids?” you asked.
“Just one—a six-year-old.”
“No more? Come on, why not?”
Because… seriously, just stop.
Imagine if I had another child and something tragic occurred. (I know families who have faced unimaginable losses due to similar situations, and I can’t fathom the heartache.)
Here we go again.
I’m attending a party for my daughter’s six-year-old friends, where 26 sugar-high kids are bouncing off the walls, fueled by CHOCOLATE and oh yeah, that cake wasn’t even vegan!
You try to make conversation. I get it.
“Is she your only one?” you ask. “No siblings?”
Have you considered how many women struggle with conceiving and maintaining a healthy pregnancy before prying into my personal decisions about family size?
What if we faced sudden financial difficulties, losing nearly everything while trying to raise a one-year-old amidst chaos? Perhaps it’s wiser to avoid digging ourselves deeper into financial distress and emotional turmoil—saving thousands by not having another child?
But wait, she needs a playmate, right? You mentioned it earlier.
So, do you really want to hear how I almost didn’t survive my daughter’s birth? At seven months pregnant, I weighed a mere 105 pounds, battling pre-term labor. I was given too much terbutaline far too often, leading to a code blue situation in the hospital. I was brought back to life with the help of a defibrillator and ended up with permanent heart valve damage and recurring heart issues. So, no, intentionally putting my already compromised heart through another pregnancy for the sake of my daughter having a sibling isn’t the best idea.
That’s my truth.
If you’re interested in learning more about fertility and home insemination, check out this excellent resource from Science Daily. And if you’re considering other family-building options, you might want to explore our post about at-home intracervical insemination kits.