Snap

When the boy was two, I was still in touch with most of the women I met in the post-partum Mommy Group. And between the time he was 18 months to 2.5, all of them got pregnant again.

I'm not exaggerating. With the exception of the woman who split from her husband and the woman who was 38 at the time she delivered her first baby and who I suspect may have had fertility difficulties, I was the ONLY ONE who didn't get pregnant again. So among those who were a.) fertile and b.) had a ready supply of sperm, I was the only one who didn't have a child two years after the first. And there were like 12-15 women, so it wasn't a tiny sampling of reality.

I felt like an outcast. Like I was doing it wrong. And it's not just there. At The Boy's daycare, he is almost the only one who doesn't have a sibling within two years. Barring those who I know are subfertile (it's amazing what people will tell you when you meet them at pick up time each night), he might be the only one.

Child spacing is something that comes and goes with fashion. In the 1970s, when I was born, three years was the norm. Almost everyone I knew was separated from a sibling or two by three years. It was the Perfect Child Spacing. These days it's two. Despite the fact that there's no evidence whatsoever that this is a good age gap; no more than three years. In fact if you read the literature, most child psychologists say four years (or more) is best because a.) your older child has had a lot of one on one parental attention for his formative years, and is more independent leaving you b.) more able to fully pay attention to the second child for his / her formative years and c.) children so spaced are less prone to sibling rivalry. In fact the two / three year age spacing is the worst possible for sibling rivalry, with every other age spacing being better. (This is not to say that your two years apart children will hate each other -- of course there are situations where children two years apart are best friends. But statistically speaking, children born less than 18 months apart or more than four years are less likely to be rivals.)

And woe betide you if you fall outside the normal spectrum. Because -- fast forward three years -- I have announced my pregnancy now to co-workers and colleagues at work (not a huge group, less than 10), and have been told now TWICE that "Oh, I thought you weren't going to have any more!"

(Which is I suppose a better reaction than I had to my first pregnancy announcement, because people knew I wasn't married to his father and they repeatedly asked "Was it planned / on purpose??!" UH -- are you FREAKING KIDDING ME??! Are you actually ASKING ME THAT??! Do you think I'm going to actually tell you that no, we weren't planning it and we're going to split up and my heavens, was this bad planning? Isn't it possible that we may have wanted to have a family and just NOT BE MARRIED??!)

But just because I don't fall into the societal norm of two years spacing between children, people think this is abnormal. I fall into the category of "not wanting more children" because four years! My God! I may as well have them 15 years apart when I'm 45 and barely fertile! It's like I'm telling people that I've decided to raise them with wolves! Four year spacing! Good Lord! Could anything be worse?

Can't we just stick with "Congratulations!" instead of commenting on my fertility / child spacing / family planning?

Honestly.

* * * * * * *

This rant may or may not have something to do with the fact that I am, 15 weeks in, still bone tired. At times. Energy returns on occasion, but some days taking the day off to sleep is all I want to do. I was reflecting on this today while trying to stay focussed at work, and remembered that I was a bit anemic last time, and perhaps I should think about taking some iron and perhaps that would help with the energy level (and subsequently, my mood, making me less prone to ranting about people's comments on my pregnancy).

And then I imagined in my mind a steak. (Look away, APC! And SRH. And anyone else who doesn't eat red meat!) A BIG JUICY RED STEAK! And it was seriously the best thing I could imagine to eat. And one the way home I went and bought ground beef to put in my dinner, and while it was frying it was the BEST THING I HAVE EVER SMELLED. Seriously, if I hadn't been so conscious of the health dangers of eating half cooked ground beef, I think I would have dipped my spoon into the pan and just started eating.

So there, I'm hoping that tomorrow will be a little less irritating. Or at least, that I will be.