My son has been an “only child” for about a year now.  Technically, he does have siblings.  He has 4 biological siblings (he’s adopted), and 3 adoptive siblings in Heaven (my babies that I miscarried).  But for practical purposes, he meets the criteria for the term “only child.”  During his infancy, he was probably perceived as my first (living) child.  However, once a child turns two with no sign of a sibling on the way, it is generally assumed that he’s an only.  In our case, that assumption is probably accurate.

I would love to have another baby, and I would love to give my son a sibling.  But for a variety of reasons, we aren’t actively pursuing a baby through adoption or biology (although we certainly aren’t doing anything to prevent another baby, and we would welcome another with open arms).  So unless a baby falls from the sky, my son is likely to be the only living child in our immediate family indefinitely.  As a mother, this is one of many worries that keep me awake at night.

There is a lingering stigma that goes along with being an only child.  I feel it as the mother of an only, and I’m waiting for the day when my son will start to perceive it.  “Only” is equated with “lonely,” “spoiled,” “self-centered,” etc.  Sometimes these stereotypes are accurate.  Being aware of the labels can be helpful to motivate parents like me to make efforts to prevent them from coming true.  Yet, the labels still hurt.

Right now, my son is neither lonely, spoiled nor self-centered (not any more self-centered than any typical toddler/preschooler).  He is very well behaved, better than the average toddler.  He is never aggressive with other children, and he shares fairly well.  With Mommy and Daddy’s undivided attention, he rarely lacks for a playmate, yet he is very good at entertaining himself when we’re otherwise occupied.  I do worry about him being lonely when he gets older and Mommy and Daddy aren’t the most appealing companions.  I hope when that time comes, he’ll have a few good close friends who can provide the companionship he wants and needs.

As much as I would love to be able to give my son a sibling, my experience has taught me that it is impossible to plan the “perfect” family.  The Holy Family was a family of three.  I don’t pretend that my family is just like the Holy Family (the similarities probably ends with the size of our households), but it is a prime example small families can be healthy and happy.  Even in huge families like the Duggars, there is no guarantee that each child will have a playmate close in age.  The Duggar’s middle child, Joy Anna, has no female siblings close to her in age.  In an average family, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but in her family there are clusters of boys and girls close in age, and she’s the only one who doesn’t fit into a cluster.  There has never been any mention of this being an issue for her, but it’s easy to see how it could potentially be difficult.

I would have another experience of mothering a newborn, and I would love to have the experience of seeing the bond between my son and a sibling.  Yet, I absolutely love the one-on-one time that I have with my son.  When he’s sick and wants to spend half the day snuggling, I can manage this in a way that would be impossible if I had another baby to care for.  He and I do so much together, and I savor all our experiences and interactions.

Everything in life is a trade-off. If I had another baby, there would be benefits which would compensate for the lack of one-on-one time.  But this is the life I have been given, and I’m learning that it’s better to appreciate the advantages of my current lifestyle rather than to long for the advantages of a different lifestyle that may or may not be possible or even preferable for me.  Hopefully as I learn to move from comparison toward appreciation, this will be one less worry to keep me awake at night.

Claire is a regular writer at Catholic Mothers Online.

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1. Confessions of a Helicopter Mom