Since it took me so much longer to show with this pregnancy, I’d forgotten about the questions that a growing belly can bring. Everything from the nosy (“Are you going to breast feed?”) to the simple (“Do you know what you’re having?”). But for me, the basic conversational questions are always the hardest to answer. It’s always some variation of “Is this your first pregnancy/Is this your first child/Do you have any other children?” I never used to know how to answer this question when pregnant with Annie. It used to make me very angry, even though I knew it was asked innocently and usually out of politeness instead of an actual desire to know the answer.
Obviously, if the person asking is someone I’m going to have a continuing relationship with, they will usually get the story. But most of the time, it’s the random cashier or person in the waiting room doing the asking. With them, I try to keep the answers simple. I learned that lesson the hard way. I was sitting next to an older woman in blood lab a few weeks ago, and I was off my game. She asked me if this was my first pregnancy and I replied, “It’s my second.” “Oh, well, don’t worry,” She replied, “You’ll love your second just as much as you love your first.” She then went on for fifteen minutes about this. “It’s scary to go from one child to two, but there’s enough love! You’ll see!” It was the longest fifteen minutes ever.
The key for me is to answer the question without encouraging follow-ups. If someone asks, “Is this your first pregnancy?” And I only say, “No, it’s my fourth,” there are lots of potential questions there. So I will say instead, “This is my fourth, but I’ve had some losses.” This answer doesn’t leave me feeling guilty, and it usually ends that line of questioning.
I don’t usually bring up Maddie’s death to strangers. It makes the person who asked the question feel terrible, and it kind of ruins my day. But I won’t act like she didn’t exist, either. If someone asks if this is my first child, I will say, “First boy! He has two older sisters.” Occasionally the person will inquires about the ages of said sisters, and I’ll say something like, “My oldest’s fifth birthday was this past November, and my younger daughter just turned three.” It’s carefully worded to be the truth but not the whole story.
But, if the person isn’t getting the hint or is especially pushy with their questions, I will lay it all out there.
Does this mean I think you shouldn’t strike up conversations with strangers? Absolutely not. But because of what I’ve been through, I am now the worst at small talk. I’m terrified that I’ll ask someone a seemingly simple question that’s accidentally their Hardest Question. I already excel at putting my foot in my mouth, so I err on the side of silence. It doesn’t make me look like the best conversationalist, but I’d rather someone think I’m quiet than accidentally ruin their day.
Sue says:
It sounds as tho you have thought out all of the very best answers to give, to strangers, Heather. You are a doll, and the best mama and wife that anyone could ever ask for. I wish you the very, very best.
Monica says:
I too, hate this question and It never feels good. I don’t want the pitying looks when I tell tell them that my baby that was stillborn but at the same time she was here, she matters and her name is Julia.
if I just leave her off and say 2 kids, then I feel guilty and mad at myself.
So usually, I try to avoid it altogether and change the subject. The Hard Easy—great title.
S says:
I know this isn’t the same perspective, but answering that type of question is hard on the siblings too. I’m the youngest of 4 (the only girl), but my middle-older brother Matthew was stillborn. I never met him, being born 5-6 years after him. But you’re right…he matters and I feel immense guilt if I don’t include him in the count. I’m 29 with 2 kids of my own (and 1 more on the way) and I still can’t find the right answer to the question “How many siblings do you have?”
Lanie says:
Small talk can be the worst. I too try to balance answers with the careful wording and honoring the lives of our 2 sons. I don’t want to make the person asking feel bad and I never want to leave Jake and Sawyer out. I have at times (especially in loud environments) pretended not to hear the question and quickly change the subject.
Sara says:
I have often wondered how you and others answered this question. My first niece was stillborn, and then a few years later my SIL had a beautiful healthy girl. So, I have thought about those conversations–if my SIL says one child, then is she betraying Mattie? If she says two children, then the obvious follow-ups become even more difficult as you know. Your last paragraph is really important as well–we may think we are just having a conversation, unaware of the turmoil and emotion that may be going on in the other person.
Kim says:
Oh girl, I hear you loud and clear. Sometimes I feel like a fraud when people ask me how many kids I have. If it’s a stranger and they’ve asked me how old my children are, I say 10, 8, 6, 4 and 22 months. Then they always go on to say at least you have older kdis to help, boys or girls?, blah, blah, blah.
That’s when I feel like a fake. I have 5 kids, but I am not raising those 5 kids. I am only raising 4. But I don’t want to tell people I only have 4. SO, I guess it just depends on my mood, what I say.
I like your answers though. Great way to close the door to more questions.
*sigh* I hate that we have to worry about this.
Amanda says:
A few months ago as my zumba class was ending I started chatting with the instructor and the subject of our kids came up so I asked her how many children she had – she replied that she had 3 children – 1 in her heart and 2 in her arms and then went on to elaborate that her oldest child had passed away. I immediately thought of you and how often you’ve spoken of this very same awkward conversation that you have with strangers because I had no idea what to say to this woman who had just been very honest with me. I felt so terrible for her imagining what she’s lived through and at the same time knew that this has probably been her reality for many years and that she probably knew that I wouldn’t know what to say to her and that she probably didn’t expect me to say anything at all. All I could come up with was that I was very sorry for her loss. Duh! It felt so inadequate to say that but what else was I supposed to say? I guess there is no right response because it all depends on the person who has suffered the loss. Grief is different for everyone.
LIsa says:
I used to dread this question. Now I look people square in the eye and say I have 5 children. If they want me to elaborate, I do. I say, I have two boys that are 28 and 26 and three girls, 1 is 14, 1 is 15 and my other daughter passed away, but she would’ve been 17 this year. This probably sounds crazy, but I practice saying it. Of course the ages change as I go along. But the practicing really did help me be able to get it all out without choking up.
ColleenMN says:
The same should be said for people inquiring about graduating seniors. My son has Asperger’s and althought a smart, delightful person, did not go to college. It was so awkward when people would ask during his senior year, what college he was going to attend. So now, I always congratulate the graduate and just ask what are the plans for next year. Some work, some go to college and some go into the military – all noble endeavors. As for you situation, I would just say that it’s your third child. If they ask more questions, just answer them honestly.
Anne says:
I like that question. What are your plans for next year? Shows interest without presuming anything. Thanks for sharing!!
Steph says:
You are so thoughtful to worry about strangers’ feelings. (but I think yours should come first as a pregnant mama) Just wanted to let you know that your writing has opened my eyes to this particular small talk minefield, and I thank you for that. Wishing you all the best.
Katie says:
I’m pretty sure some people think I have three siblings, and some four. Depending on the day and person, I give a different answer. Sorry these questions come up. Answer however is best for you.
Jacky says:
(((Heather)))
You have made me aware of how even innocent questions can be so loaded. You have to answer however you feel its feel its right. I wish the reality was that Maddie was here and had just turned 5. I’m so sorry. But I believe with all my heart and soul that Maddie is looking down at you all and loving and hugging you all and is with y’all always.
I like your choices of answers. The “its my fourth pregnancy but I’ve had some losses” seems like it would certainly cut off any further questions. Praying for a safe, healthy, full term and nausea free rest of your pregnancy with the acrobat!!
Jacky
Kim says:
It’s hard to deal with questions like that and not come off sounding like a jerk, and I always do. Whenever someone I don’t know asks me if I’m married, I still say yes. I don’t think we owe anyone an explanation, but i like the way you are handling it.
XOXO
Becca Masters says:
I think questions like this will always be difficult.
A few friends of mine who’ve lost babies / children Always say they have 1 angel and 1 son/daughter.
My first glimpse into the world of childloss I had no clue what an angel baby was, and it was immensely awkward when I asked, I felt so guilty after, but was assured it was ok.
I’ve found that people often think its appropriate to ask very personal questions to pregnant women. Once someone asked me how my discharge was!! Ew!
Kelly says:
The answers you have to these prying questions are brilliant. I am so sorry that you have to use them at all. People just don’t think before they speak.
Sandy says:
My mom lost a baby at birth and then one was premature and died. There were 5 living children. When someone asked her how many children she had she always said 5, but sometimes she would say really soft to one of us ” but I really had 7.” I think it was just easier for her to not explain, but 40 years after her last loss, she never forgot she had 2 other children.
Molly says:
I just wanted to say thanks so much for discussing this difficult problem of what to say when small talk opens up real, live pain. I appreciate knowing your ideas about how to respond, and even more, the way you recognize that there’s no one right answer. We can’t avoid the world, but we don’t have to explain everything to it either. There’s always going to be some difficulty, and probably the best we can do is just expect it. And read blog posts like this.
Gillian says:
As a polite and sensitive small-talking “asker” myself, I once encountered your dilemma with a woman who is now a good friend. She brought a baby to our older children’s preschool, and I cooed at how “tiny” the little “peanut” was, and asked her “how old”? I was carrying a 1 year old on my hip, so it was just a question to get conversation started – I had no intention of going into any uncomfortable depth or asking if she had any problems. The woman looked at me, opened her mouth, closed it, opened it, then said “She’s a month, but she was a twin. That’s why she’s so small. Her brother died.” And I could see this dilemma in her face, I could see every thought – do I bring him up? Do I pretend he never existed? Will this woman ask me more – will I be forced to explain?
The beauty of the internet has exposed me to the pain of many parents who have lost children – you, others. I hope I answered her properly, and with compassion and understanding. I guess I did, since we’re still friends all these years later. I read an interesting article on HuffPo the other day about the benefits of mourning clothes, and how (if we carried on the tradition) they would signal to everyone to tread lightly, be gentle, this person is struggling. I suppose there’d be benefits and detriments if such a signifier could exist for parents who have experienced the loss of a child, but I wonder if it would help you all a little with that.
Jill says:
I completely relate to this post.. Thank you for always being so honest about these things. It’s admirable the way you handle such delicate situations, and share them with us, your readers. Please don’t ever stop being honest!
Leah says:
It sounds like you handle it beautifully, adjusting to the situation as needed. I think we are all richer for a world where grief and loss and hard things are not sanitized and hidden away, but are communicated honestly and openly.
Auntie_M says:
As an aunt/sister, my heart rips every time someone innocently asks my brother or sister (in-law) if my nephew is their first, as they lost their first born….but we are in a new state and not everyone knows the story. As it is usually at a party, they tend to choose the route of not dampening the innocent questioner’s spirits and say yes he is their 1st. But I’ve always wondered if their heart is breaking for the rest of the time…because I know my heart drops to the pit of my stomach.
I try to be more consciousness of that myself when I meet a stranger, say in line at a store or something, who is pregnant, asking instead how far along she is & how she is feeling…because despite our losses, I still love seeing expectant moms…they’ve always filled me with awe and hope ever since I was a child & they still do, despite all I know about losses and CHDs and other things…..I guess I just am even more in awe as to the miracle each pregnancy and child is…
But I try to be careful as I said, as I would never want to be the one to hurt a parent with my questions.
But I have to say, I find it rather odd to question someone about their whole family…If I am in line beside a child, they invariably talk to me, so I may ask the parent about the child(ren) right there but I don’t query them on their whole family history. That’s weird.
Jodi says:
I too struggle with this question. I lost my first son as a stillborn. I say a little prayer to myself and him when I leave him out of the conversation. It is personally easier for me not to discuss it with everyone. However, I now have 2 girls, and constantly am baraged by people about having a boy. Sometimes, I am very blunt and say, we had a boy, and he is not here.
Unfortunately, I have become very jaded about pregnancy. I never ask anyone how far along, 1st/2nd/etc, boy/girl, etc. Unless, they bring it up. I’m sorry that you have to endure this pain. Can’t wait for your sweet baby to arrive safe and sound. One day at a time.