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October Awareness…

October Awareness…

October is a month that brings awareness to pregnancy loss—but also I feel it shares two journeys that are so often carried in silence: Loss & Infertility. For us, infertility was a battle before we even began “trying.” We wanted to start our family when we felt ready—not when the universe, or society, thought we should.

But before we could even think about timing, the questions started:

  1. “When are you going to give that man a baby?”
  2. “You’re not going to be young forever.”
  3. “When are you going to give us another baby to cuddle?”

As if a child were some kind of participation trophy. Every time someone asked, it burned inside me. At first, I’d vent for hours to my husband. But eventually, I realized I had to stand up for our privacy and our family.

So I started firing back. Sometimes unhinged, sometimes blunt, always honest:

  1. “Well Susie, when you’re part of the process, then you can decide.”
  2. “We were actually hoping you’d give us a kid.”
  3. Or my favorite: “That’s not a question you should ask anyone. Maybe we’re broke, maybe we don’t want another child, or maybe—just maybe—we desperately want a baby but we can’t.”

Usually that stunned people into silence. But it never really stopped the questions.

When God finally blessed us with a positive test, the fear of miscarriage never left. Still, before our baby was even born, the next wave started:

  1. “You need to have the next one close so they can grow up together.”
  2. “If it’s not a boy, you should try again.”

What in the world is wrong with people? If you’re not involved in creating this baby, zip it.

Even now, people ask, “So, when’s the next one?” And let me be clear: I don’t sugarcoat anymore. I shut it down fast. Because if you knew the fight it took to have this one healthy baby, you’d never pile on that kind of pressure or trigger that kind of fear. You’d never push someone back into anxiety, or remind them daily that their body made pregnancy feel like survival.

So why do I share this? Because it needs to be said out loud:

We need to normalize NOT ASKING PEOPLE WHEN THEY’RE HAVING KIDS.

It’s not your business. It’s never your business.

I want to pause here and say this: I know how deeply blessed I am to have a healthy baby in my arms today. But that blessing doesn’t erase the years of struggle, the fear of loss, or the weight of infertility. It also doesn’t make it easier to hear the constant pressure for “the next one.” Gratitude and grief can exist together, and for many of us who’ve walked this road, they always will.

For those of us walking through infertility, loss, or even just private decisions about family, these questions cut deep. So instead of asking, choose kindness. Choose silence. Choose respect.

-A Farm Mothers Try

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