And my answer is always the same: “No, it’s just my son. He’s an only child.” The question has always seemed innocent enough and without any detectable judgment. But there’s just something about that phrase “just the one” that’s always rubbed me the wrong way.
As if one, by itself, isn’t enough or less than what it should be. As an only child myself, I never thought of it as anything to be ashamed of. But now that I’m a mom, I'm much more aware of the stigma surrounding the “one-and-done” mentality.
No one is ever directly rude or insensitive, but subtle remarks like “just the one” or assurances that “there’s still time” to have another suggest my life — and my child’s life — are lacking in some way. It’s as if to say our family isn’t whole just the way we are. It can feel a little isolating at times.
In fact, there have been moments when I’ve hesitated to open up to other moms about my own parenting struggles or concerns because I only have one kid, whereas many of them have multiple. I’ve found myself wondering, How can my problems compare when I’m dealing with one kiddo and they’re juggling two or three or even four? It can make me feel like I don’t have a right to complain or vent about my child’s latest tantrum because they are dealing with those things on a larger scale than I am.
It’s worth noting that no parent has ever said any of this to me directly. But it’s an underlying worry that always creeps into the back of my mind. In many ways, society (and social media, a viral extension of society) has conditioned me to think that way.
If you don’t have any kids, you’re made to think your life is incomplete. If you have one kid, you’re encouraged to give them a sibling or they’ll be lonely. It feels like it’s never enough.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
