A fellow parent's one question left me speechless.

Asking about having kids is not a harmless inquiry, it carries implications.

July 27th 2024.

A fellow parent's one question left me speechless.
The other day, I attended my son's sensory class and was met with an insensitive question and an unwelcome touch. I was taken aback when a fellow parent asked me, "When's his sibling due?" while placing their hand on my stomach. It caught me off guard and left me feeling winded.

The truth is, I am not pregnant and I am not sure if I will be able to get pregnant again. My son Teddy is our miracle baby after four heartbreaking losses. In that moment, I felt a wave of anger, sadness, and worst of all, loneliness. No one else intervened or spoke up to help. I can only assume they were too uncomfortable to address the situation, afraid of making it worse.

Maybe I haven't lost all the pregnancy weight 10 months postpartum, but I am proud of my postpartum body. The question alone was insensitive, but the added touch was just too much. Instead of reacting with anger, I chose to respond with grace and explained that I wasn't pregnant and that Teddy was conceived through IVF. I also shared that we would love to have another child, but we weren't sure if it was possible. Despite my explanation, the person doubled down on their question. It was a clear indication of how normalized it is to ask women about their plans for having children, even when they are already mothers.

It is never okay to comment on or touch someone else's body without their consent. You never know what others may be going through. They may be child-free by choice or not, struggling with fertility issues, undergoing fertility treatments, have PCOS, endometriosis, or another chronic illness, or have experienced loss or are dealing with self-image issues.

After my husband Jordan and I got married in March 2020, we were bombarded with questions about when we were planning to have children. At first, we ignored it, but eventually, it started to weigh on us. A few months later, I started experiencing pregnancy symptoms and we were overjoyed. Unfortunately, the pregnancy ended in a chemical pregnancy, also known as an early miscarriage.

Over the next few years, we struggled to conceive and after numerous tests, we found out that I have polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), a condition that affects 1 in 10 women in the UK. PCOS can make it challenging to conceive due to irregular ovulation or no ovulation at all, and it also increases the risk of miscarriage. We decided to seek help from fertility experts and opted for IVF treatment. We went through our first round of IVF and successfully fertilized three eggs. However, both embryo transfers failed, and we were devastated. Our losses were discounted by others because they were through IVF, and we were told not to worry or that they weren't real babies. My husband and I learned to tune out these insensitive comments and focus on our own well-being and IVF journey.

After giving my body time to recover, we prepared for another round of IVF and self-administered daily injections to stimulate egg production. Once again, we successfully fertilized three eggs, and the strongest embryo was in the shape of a heart, which we later named Teddy. Nine months later, our little miracle was born.

As soon as we became parents, the questions about when we were having another baby began. It took me a while to go from saying "if" the baby gets here, to "when." Holding Teddy for the first time was a remarkable moment, and we were finally parents to a perfect little boy. However, others didn't seem to think it was enough, and we were constantly asked when the next baby would be on the way.

Even though the class was meant to be a safe space for new parents to relax with their children, it was derailed by the insensitive question and touch. The person never apologized, and I haven't seen them in class since. I do feel anxious about attending the class, but I am okay with my son playing with theirs if he wants to.

I don't believe the person meant any harm with their question and was probably unaware of our struggles and losses. I can only imagine they feel bad, but it shouldn't be an automatic reaction to comment on someone's body. We all make mistakes, and I hope this person learns from this experience. Instead of focusing on others, their bodies, and mindless gossip, we should show more compassion. After all, women's bodies, including mine, are not here for your feedback. Do you have a similar experience? Share it in the comments below. And remember, inaction does not breed change. Let's all show more support and understanding towards each other.

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