My partner and I had just relocated to Minnesota when a woman we met at church decided to chime in on our family planning. At the time, we had two children, and our youngest was still a baby. While chatting about our family, she casually said, “You know you can’t stop at just two kids, right?” Her own brood of five was praised as a blessing, and she assured us that having more would make life easier. I found it hard to hold my tongue.
We politely thanked her for her unsolicited advice but didn’t share our truth. We didn’t mention that my partner, Mia, had faced a harrowing experience with toxemia during her first pregnancy that led to an emergency C-section. We kept quiet about how our youngest, Lily, had spent over a week in the NICU due to underdeveloped lungs, and I was still recovering from the stress, both mentally and physically. At that moment, the last thing we needed was a stranger suggesting we expand our family further.
Sure, Mia and I had entertained the idea of having more children before we faced those challenges. However, the trauma of nearly losing our second child and the fear surrounding our first delivery weighed heavily on us. It was a deeply personal decision that didn’t need outside opinions.
Every family’s situation is unique. Some couples are unable to afford additional children, while others are concerned about overpopulation. Many face the heartache of infertility, and for some, even one child is a monumental achievement. Others choose not to have children at all, and that’s perfectly valid. The notion that “bigger is better” isn’t a universal truth.
Eventually, we did decide to have another child, but it took us five years to feel ready. Our little surprise, Max, arrived without complications, but Mia’s recovery was excruciating. She developed pockets of air in her body after her Cesarean, which made her recovery process twice as long and painful as before. After that experience, we determined three children would be our limit. I made the decision to get a vasectomy because Mia had already endured enough.
It’s disheartening how often strangers and even friends feel entitled to comment on family size. Just a couple of months after Max was born, another woman at the park insisted we should “just have one more.” It’s as if our choices were up for public debate when, in reality, they are deeply personal and should be respected.
Now that our youngest is almost five, the topic of having more children has faded among acquaintances. I’m thankful for that because family planning is a private matter. Bringing a child into the world is a complex decision, influenced by countless factors, including health risks for both mother and baby. Ultimately, it’s a choice that belongs solely to the couple involved.
So unless someone explicitly asks for advice on family expansion, I suggest keeping your opinions to yourself. If you’re curious about family planning options, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy or explore fertility care information for more guidance.
In summary, the pressure to have more children can feel overwhelming and intrusive. Family size is a personal choice that should be respected, and unsolicited advice can often lead to unnecessary stress. Each family’s journey is unique, and everyone deserves the right to make choices that are best for them.