When I was in 7th grade, one of our classes was tasked with putting together what essentially amounted to vision boards for the rest of our lives. We spent a few days cutting photos out of magazines and gluing them into albums as if any of us really knew anything about what we wanted to do, be, or where our lives would go decades down the road.
I wish I could remember more about what my board looked like, but only two details spring to mind: Leonardo DiCaprio was going to be my husband, and I was going to have three kids. I can’t remember all the names I picked out for them then, but I do remember one was Kirby — a fact I can recall only because everyone I know thought that would be a wild name for a kid.
For most of my teenage years, I continued to think I’d end up having three kids. I don’t know exactly why — I grew up one of four, and it wasn’t easy, so it’s not that having multiple children felt like the ideal. It just seemed like what I was meant to do. And the truth of the matter is, I think I was meant to have an only child.
I was ‘one and done,’ and I’m glad I have an only child
I gave birth to my son two months after I turned 24, and starting to have kids early meant, in theory, that I had plenty of time to add more kids to the mix.
He was born two months early and then diagnosed with a new condition each year for the first three years of his life. For us, the idea of having more children during that time period was unfathomable.
His dad and I ultimately divorced a few years ago, and it’s clear to everyone involved that he was the kid we were meant to have. On top of that, I have come full circle on the topic and love being a mom to an only child — and after talking to him about being one, it turns out he loves it, too.
My son says he’s never minded being an only child
When I asked my now-15-year-old son if he could remember ever wishing he wasn’t an only child when he was younger, he said that all he remembered was “being fine with it — and I’m still fine with it.”
That more or less squares with what I remember, too. Sure, there were moments when he wondered what having a brother or sister would be like, and when he was very young he would often ask if he would one day have a sibling like so many of his friends did. But those questions stopped around the time he started school.
My ex and I were foster parents when our son was 9, and he did a wonderful job in the role of older sibling during that time. There were some challenges to going from having a home and two parents to himself to suddenly sharing all of that with two children under 2 — and having to understand the different family and home dynamics those children previously had with their birth family — but he was always happy to help as much as he could.
He was often reading books to the baby, holding a bottle, babywearing at the park, or watching “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood” in the afternoon. He was also vocal when he needed more attention and (mostly) understanding when that wasn’t completely possible. He was also happy when that chapter of our life ended, and he could return to his only-child life.
There are benefits to being an only child
For my son, the benefits of being an only child are probably what you would predict. “There are no other kids running around, and I don’t have to share anything with siblings,” he told me.
After his dad and I divorced, neither of us has had more children, which means our son remains an only child in both homes. Now, he has two households with four parents, all of whom focus significant resources just on him.
Those resources are financial, for sure, but also mental, physical, and emotional. This typically means that it’s easier for us to travel financially and logistically, and when he wants to do something, it’s not as difficult as it would be for us to budget for it as if we had other kids to consider. If he has a problem or needs help addressing something, he can also ask and receive it immediately because our attention isn’t split.
He could only come up with one con
I also wanted to know what my son thought about the potential cons of being an only child. He thought for a while and then said, “I guess… there are no siblings to do stuff with, but I’m not really complaining.”
To that end, both of his households have made a point to invite his friends to local events and whenever we travel. It doesn’t always work out, but when it does, it gives our son someone to hang out with — and someone he may be less likely to bicker with than a sibling.
As someone who grew up with siblings, I understand that the bond and relationship siblings have are unique, but I am also not especially close to my siblings. It’s never felt like my son was potentially missing out on something in a giant way. However, it’s worth acknowledging that as his mom, I want to see his life as one that he’s happy in, and not having close relationships with my own siblings influences how I see it.
I’m happy that my son feels I consider his needs; if I’d had more children, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t have been able to do that, but it certainly wouldn’t have looked different — and honestly, our lives are pretty great. It’s reassuring to know he still feels good about being an only child, and it’s likely how he’ll keep feeling for the foreseeable future.
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