I never had any pre-conceived notions that I would only have one child. In fact, up until I woke up one morning and decided it was “baby time,” I thought I didn't even want one at all.
And then after upteen hours of pain and pushing, the words “it's a boy” were celebrated and our little family was born. And I knew I was done.
My decision to be one and done is often met with mixed opinions. Actually, that's a lie. Most people I meet seem to have something to say on the status of my womb.
“This is your first one?” they ask. (See, they think they're being tricky using the word “first” instead of “only” to insinuate that's there's more to come).
And then when I say he's the only one, they look at me with their head cocked slightly to the side, like my dog does when I say the word “walk,” waiting for me to tell them the good news – that's there more to come.
And then I say nothing.
And that's when they come – the judgement eyes.When they see that I could care less about their Judge Judy opinions, they try another tactic – they hit up my son.
“Don't you want a little brother or sister?” they ask, their voice rising slightly with every word, like a scale on a piano.
“Nope,” he says. “Just a fish. I want a fish.”
That's kind of the final nail in the second baby conversation coffin. Not that it should have even been a discussion at all – especially with strangers. I mean, what do these people know about me? For all they know, I could have a twisted uterus or fried eggs or something, but still they pry.
Sometimes, I admit, I think about lying. I think about saying, “Actually, I can't have more,” and then add a slight pat to my baron stomach to evoke some empathy from the nosy bastards. That'll learn em. But then I think – why should I lie?
There's nothing wrong with the life I have chosen. I can't describe why I chose to be one and done. It was just a feeling. Tristan was born and he was the last missing piece from our tiny family puzzle. And now he's here and we're complete.
And when I start feeling guilty about it, I look to other one and dones. Like Kate Hudson...oh wait, she just got knocked up by her Muse. Oh and Tina Fey...oh never mind. Courtney Cox – yes, she is definitely one and done unless she hires a baby baker to grow her next Coco bean. But then, what do I know? Or care.
Right now, I just have to come up with a way to break the bad news to Tristan. There's no way he's getting a fish.
My decision to be one and done is often met with mixed opinions. Actually, that's a lie. Most people I meet seem to have something to say on the status of my womb.
“This is your first one?” they ask. (See, they think they're being tricky using the word “first” instead of “only” to insinuate that's there's more to come).
And then when I say he's the only one, they look at me with their head cocked slightly to the side, like my dog does when I say the word “walk,” waiting for me to tell them the good news – that's there more to come.
And then I say nothing.
And that's when they come – the judgement eyes.When they see that I could care less about their Judge Judy opinions, they try another tactic – they hit up my son.
“Don't you want a little brother or sister?” they ask, their voice rising slightly with every word, like a scale on a piano.
“Nope,” he says. “Just a fish. I want a fish.”
That's kind of the final nail in the second baby conversation coffin. Not that it should have even been a discussion at all – especially with strangers. I mean, what do these people know about me? For all they know, I could have a twisted uterus or fried eggs or something, but still they pry.
Sometimes, I admit, I think about lying. I think about saying, “Actually, I can't have more,” and then add a slight pat to my baron stomach to evoke some empathy from the nosy bastards. That'll learn em. But then I think – why should I lie?
There's nothing wrong with the life I have chosen. I can't describe why I chose to be one and done. It was just a feeling. Tristan was born and he was the last missing piece from our tiny family puzzle. And now he's here and we're complete.
And when I start feeling guilty about it, I look to other one and dones. Like Kate Hudson...oh wait, she just got knocked up by her Muse. Oh and Tina Fey...oh never mind. Courtney Cox – yes, she is definitely one and done unless she hires a baby baker to grow her next Coco bean. But then, what do I know? Or care.
Right now, I just have to come up with a way to break the bad news to Tristan. There's no way he's getting a fish.
