Out of my group of ten ante-natal friends, four are now pregnant with number two. My best buddy Alice is due at Christmas, and starting to worry about how to persuade Stan to make room in the bed and at the boob, for his sibling-to-be.
This is the school of thought that if you want a family of more, rather than an Only Bernard, then it’s best to get it over with. Do it before you get your sleep back, while you still own all the equipment and can benefit from the super-steep learning curve of the first few months of parenthood. It makes some sense. Once your child has started sleeping through [hah!], I don’t know how anyone could actively and willingly decide to go back into the zone. Perhaps, like labour, you forget what it was like.
So Pete and I had the discussion.
I think he would not-so-secretly and in an ideal world, quite like another one. A playmate for Bernard, someone for him to protect and look out for, a couple of little cherubs for us to adore as they share their toys and keep secrets from us. But the arguments against are strong, and none stronger than the fact that the Chief Babycarrier really doesn’t want another child. I’ve only ever wanted one. I want to spoil him. I want to be able to afford to spoil him. I know it’s sad that he won’t have the great friendship that Pete and I both have with our sibs, but I like to think that there will be loads of ways we can compensate for that, particularly because we won’t have to divide our time or attention or money between two kids.
I didn’t enjoy pregnancy enough to want to do it again, although the one thing that would tempt me is the chance to get those first few weeks right, get the breastfeeding right, and enjoy the tininess of my baby. But that’s not a good reason to have a child, and the world is over-populated enough as it is. I just don’t know how I could manage to cope with a baby and a toddler, either; there are still too many days when I hardly have the energy for one.
A friend did once point out that love is like breastmilk: you always have enough supply, as long as you continually respond to the demand. But I still think that Bernard will benefit from being totally smothered with excessive maternal love, and also from having his collar straightened in public, and saliva-moistened tissues for wiping smudges off his face. Oh yes, I have planned our future.
Bernard is going to be spoiled.
That sounds like a bad thing, hang on and I’ll rephrase… Bernard is going to be loved!
I can’t contemplate having one child, the thought of two … nope doesn’t even register. I think, like that whole ‘love’ thing, you “just know” so if 2 ain’t right for you, then 2 ain’t right for you!
Lucky Bernard I say!
I’m with you. Everyone says I will change my mind once I’ve had the first (whenever that is) and I’m glad to see that you still feel like one is right for you.
And let me tell you, I am essentially an only child (two brothers 15 and 16 years older who didn’t live abroad with us don’t count for the purpose of this point) and I can say honestly, I adored it. I adored the simple dynamic between my parents and myself, the self-sufficiency in entertaining myself, and okay – the not having to share everything! I grew up moving every three years and I still wouldn’t trade it. I loved it.
All the money, attention, spoiling and parental love in the word couldn’t make up for the joy of having my brother. I love knowing that whatever happens, wherever we are (and I should point out that we live in different countries) he’s there for me and I’m there for him. We still laugh hysterically about moments we shared growing up and we still talk to each other in silly accents just like we did 30 years ago. I am very thankful not to be an only child.
However, having said that, you are quite right to do what you feel is right for you.
You don’t need to tell me about the joy of having a brother, I have exactly the same experience and I’d say that he’s one of the most important people in my life. But that doesn’t mean Bernard can’t have a whole and meaningful existence without one.
My husband and I have recently gone through this whole discussion ourselves and come to the same conclusion, so I think I understand something of your thoughts. As an only child myself I was always happy enough. It is also worth pointing out that although there are lots of people very happy to have siblings there are an equal number who DON’T get on and fervently wish that they weren’t around. My boss is one example, she is 50 and never sees or speaks to her brother, he doesn’t help with their elderly mother or even remember birthdays. They never fell out, or even played together much as kids, they just didn’t click. So, even if a brother or sister was present there is no guarantee whatsoever that they would get on and be friends. However, I still get really sick of people asking me when No. 2 is planned and then looking horrified when I say it won’t! I can recommend reading You and Your Only Child by Patricia Nachman – I found it really supportive when thinking around the issue.
What can I say ? I have three and would have loved to have more. Your ability to love simply expands and the older children are more than glad to help out.
Except for the shitty diapers. That is where the buck stops- at me.