I adore my pediatrician. She’s a brilliant French woman with a touch of elegance and warmth. Once, before I had insurance, she happily accepted hugs as payment. While she did bill me later, she handled my embarrassment with such grace that I can’t help but adore her. Even after moving away years ago, I still brave the long drive to see her twice a year. However, there’s one thing she does that drives me up the wall: at the end of each visit, she relentlessly asks me—in a charming mix of French and English—when I’ll be giving my daughter a sibling, because, in her view, every child needs one.
To be fair, she’s not alone in this. There comes a time in every woman’s life, typically between her twenties and thirties, when everyone seems overly invested in her reproductive choices. Once you have one child, expect a flood of personal inquiries from everyone, from the cashier at the grocery store to that distant cousin you barely know. They all want to know when you’re adding more “little tax deductions” to your family, and I’m here to tell you: the answer is never. I’m considering tattooing my reasons on my forehead to save everyone the trouble of asking.
1. Sleep is Sacred
First and foremost, I cherish my sleep. Seriously, it’s the biggest reason I’m not rushing to buy cocoa butter or breast pads again. My child is finally sleeping through the night at the age of seven—unless she’s sick or having nightmares. The thought of starting over with a newborn who screams all night gives me anxiety so intense that only a glass (or three) of wine can soothe me. Thankfully, I can sleep it off.
2. Sibling Rivalry? No Thanks
I don’t hate my siblings, but I’m not exactly close with all of them either. One is estranged, another is barely reachable by phone, and I have a decent relationship with my third sibling. People often tell me that because they loved their siblings, everyone should have a few. But let’s get real: not every sibling dynamic is a fairy tale. My brother and I only bonded as adults after years of sibling rivalry. Family is not always blood, and right now, I only have a solid connection with a third of mine.
3. Financial Freedom
Kids are expensive. I knew that going in, but I didn’t grasp the full extent of it until I realized I’d be financially responsible for my child until she turns 18. Diapers, soccer lessons, dance classes, and tech gadgets add up quickly. I swore that my daughter would graduate without a mountain of student debt, which means I can’t afford to multiply my expenses. One kid can aim for Harvard; two may have to settle for community college.
4. Pregnancy is a No-Go
I absolutely detest pregnancy. To reiterate: I would rather perform my own pelvic exam in a grocery store than endure it again. The very thought of being pregnant again is enough to make me cringe.
5. Fear of Favoritism
I worry that I’d end up playing favorites or resenting a new baby. People assure me that’s not true, but they don’t know my reality. We once got a puppy, and I still secretly resent him for being such a needy little vacuum. A baby is like that, but on an infinitely larger scale.
6. An Only Child is Fine
My child is perfectly content being an only child, and I support her happiness. I’ve seen how kids can feel neglected when a toddler needs constant supervision. My daughter often retreats to her room when friends come over; she doesn’t want a sibling, and I respect that. Having another baby would likely create chaos, and I’d rather spare her the distress.
7. No Need for an Heir
When someone asked if I was disappointed not to have a son to carry on the family name, I was taken aback. My daughter carries my genes just fine; it’s not solely a male prerogative. If she chooses a different last name later, I’m sure “Carter” won’t go extinct anytime soon.
8. Simply Put, I’m Done
I genuinely admire large families, but that’s not what works for me. I grew up with twelve siblings, so I understand the chaos and comfort found in a big family. However, I prefer my current setup. Maybe it’s unconventional, but families come in all shapes and sizes—whether it’s a single child, two dads, or two moms.
And let’s be real; if I had another child, the moment they were out of diapers, the questions about a third would begin all over again.
In conclusion, I’ve made my choice clear, and it suits my family just fine.