Please, Don’t Ask

Please don’t ask me when I’m having another baby. 

I know I’m having fun with my friend’s chunky little infant. You know why? Because I love babies. They’re adorable and just begging to be cuddled and kissed. While I know you’re just trying to make conversation, please don’t go there.  

Please don’t say “It’s time for your son to have a sibling!” 

You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been trying to get pregnant for two years already? Did you know I was so excited to be pregnant last year? But it wasn’t meant to be, and I lost the baby. I’m still scarred, literally and figuratively. No, you don’t know that, because it’s none of your business. 

As I’m heading off to the doctor, please don’t ask me if I’m pregnant.  

If I am, and I haven’t told you, there’s a reason. Maybe it’s too early and I just want to be careful. Maybe something is going wrong, and I don’t know what, and if I start talking about it I’ll start crying.  

Maybe this pregnancy wasn’t planned, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Even am ashamed about it. 

Or you know what? Maybe I don’t want kids, and your question is reminding me society thinks I’m a bad person. Which I’m not. 

Perhaps one kid is enough for me. That doesn’t make me a bad person either. 

Or maybe my husband and I are still fighting over whether or not to have another, and your question is making us being civil in public right now very awkward. 

It could be I am trying, and my husband and I are supposed to have sex tonight. But that’s none of your business either. Do you tell your friends when you’re planning to have intercourse? 

Or maybe I’m going through fertility treatment, and it’s really expensive and exhausting. And I don’t feel like I need to share those details with you, either. 

Perhaps I had a baby when I was young, too young. I still think about the adoption, or the abortion, and it hurts my heart.  

Maybe I lost a baby right after birth and I’m struggling to figure out how to go on.  

Maybe I’ve had multiple miscarriages and I’m still healing. 

Maybe I’m scared out of my mind, because as much as I’d love him, I can’t actually afford this kid, and I have no idea what I’m going to do. 

Maybe I’m crumbling inside and trying to keep up the smile, while you’re asking your innocent but extremely personal questions. 

Maybe, just maybe, you don’t know what people around you are going through. And you need to think before ask. 

Liz Ruback
Hi! I'm Liz, a busy working mom in Olathe. I'm lucky to have two amazing boys in my life, my husband Joe and my robot-obsessed son William. My husband and I are both from Omaha. We've been in town about 10 years and now live about as far southwest as you can get and still be in the metro. I start my day at 2 a.m. to work in local TV news. I love naps because I have to. I laugh every single day with my very silly toddler and his very silly dad. I count my lucky stars I get to come home to them each day.

1 COMMENT

  1. I have three kids (and I’m knocking on 40’s door) and people still ask me if we are having more. I’ve never understood why this is thought to be an acceptable question.

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