The two-child norm is not necessarily the result of selfishness

Please Note: I am writing about the wider culture and its norms; this post is not referring to faithful Catholics with smaller families.


Since my reversion 21 years ago, I have been surrounded by my Catholic friends in an amazing Catholic diocese and community. The norm in my circles is openness to life in one's marriage. Those of my friends who have small families, or no children at all, are usually suffering from infertility.

But when I am in the broader culture, a culture I used to fit within quite comfortably, I recognize that large families are an anomaly. Sometimes, the realization can be jarring. A couple of my younger kids now go to a public charter school down the street, which is a change from the small Catholic school and homeschooling that had been the norm for us for decades. Almost all of my boys' classmates come from families with one or two children.

On my block, almost every other family has two children. Over the 15 years we've lived here, a strange thing has happened. A bunch of us had small kids/toddlers/babies at the time. As the years passed, the neighbors' kids grew into teens and even adults. No more babies or little kids in the neighborhood -- except for our house, which continued to contain young kids, toddlers, babies. It is sometimes just a little eerie, honestly.

Families that welcome many children are not the norm. In the past, big families were seen as a blessing, as natural, as routine, but the culture has changed completely, as evidenced by a comment I received just the other day from a reader named Amy:

Leila: I would rather like to know what made you have eight children and expect your husband to provide for all of them, unless he is quite wealthy.

I don't want to assume snarkiness (though it sure seems a little snippy), but I do assume that Amy has a general unfamiliarity with large families. She simply cannot imagine why a regular married couple would welcome many children. It makes no sense to her at all, and she sees it as even a terrible imposition on the marriage itself, unless it's the luxury, whim, and frivolity of a "quite wealthy" family.

Which brings me to the thoughts I've been having lately, when I see just how different my family and my friends' families really are in today's America. When I first discovered the truth of Catholicism and the beauty of God's design for human sexuality and marriage, I was exploding with joy! Everything made sense, it was so stunning, so lovely, so profound!

New converts or reverts have a tendency to get zealous very quickly, due to that blush of "new love" that comes with the embrace of Christ and His Church, and that zeal I felt, combined with spiritual immaturity, led me to so many rookie mistakes. I made assumptions that were unfounded, including the assumption that "people in this culture only have one or two children because they are selfish!" I was just sure of it.

And then I began to mature, and I began to think. While it is true that some couples close their marriage to any or more children due to selfishness, materialism, and a desire for the "finer things and the good life" (I have had people admit this to me with great honesty), I can't assume that for the majority.

In fact, I started to look at my own pre-faithful life. When my husband and I were married, I was on the Pill. We had talked about having two kids, maybe three at the most (especially if the first two kids were the same sex). That was how it was, and there was no big controversy or angst.

But interestingly, that was not my heart's desire at all. I actually always thought that big families, when I had seen them or read about them, were amazing, wonderful, fascinating! In my heart of hearts, I would have loved to have a "big family" -- four kids, maybe even five!

Of course, that was just a dream (and one barely thought of), like saying that it would be amazing to weave my own clothes on a loom, or travel the world on a yacht. I mean, some people did that sort of thing -- the eccentrics, the uber-religious, the uber-rich -- but not normal folks.

It wasn't that I was being selfish or stingy in fully intending to limit our family to two children (three being possible, but not probable), it was that I was doing what was done. The cultural norm of two children was and is the very air that we breathe in regular America. There is no thought about it, no deeper questions to be asked, none of that. We do what our neighbors do. We do what the culture says. I would no more have thought about actually having a large family than I would have thought about going barefoot on a trip to the mall or joining a circus as a trapeze artist. I mean, who does that? A very odd few.

Selfishness, like love, requires willful thought and action.

And so, in looking back, I was not selfish in my decision. It was simply not a decision that I even knew could be made. It was not a question on the radar at all. When I look around at the majority of my neighbors and fellow parents, I cannot assume that they are being selfish in deliberately limiting their family size. They are just being 21st century Americans. It's just what we do. We have very small families and we do it reflexively. It's no more complicated than that.

Which brings me to the freedom. When the glorious moment hits, when the awesome realization strikes, "I don't have to follow the American norm; I am a Catholic and I follow the Lord", oh the freedom! Oh, the joy! It's as if the sealed box we've been living in has been burst open and we can jump out into the sunlight! Everything is different, new, bright, fresh, and colorful -- teeming with life and abundance! Oh, the possibilities!

My heart's hidden desire, to have more children and have my house full of life and my children lush with siblings and exponential extended family potential, was now unleashed! No one and nothing, not even a mindless and powerful cultural norm, could bind me again.

I pray that we Catholics would understand that those who deliberately have small families are not necessarily being selfish; they simply don't know a higher authority than the cultural norm. When they question or act shocked by our big families, it may well be that they are, as I once was, truly curious at the "eccentrics" in their midst.

May we Catholics never take our freedom for granted, nor judge as selfish those who don't yet know that they are still bound. Our job is to love them, and to lead them to the freedom that is meant for all.

For moms-of-many who have no support

I've always contended that it's not easy to have and raise eight children, and that is absolutely true, but I want to confess right now that it is easier for me than for many of you out there.

Why? Because I have a city-wide community of friends and acquaintances who have oodles of children, too.

I'm talking dozens of women that I know -- dozens upon dozens -- who have broods. I see them everywhere, I go to events with them, I party with them, our husbands are friends and business colleagues, and we are all in the same boat, child-wise. Ladies with four, five, six... all the way up to eleven kids. One of my closest friends is about to give birth to her ninth child. Our children are friends, too. This reality is not freakish at all in my "bubble" -- it's normal, and it's celebrated. I've never known a time in the past 20 years when multiple friends were not pregnant (we jokingly refer to the "next crop" of babies to come), and I know more women having children into their forties than I can count.

It's Catholic Mecca here in Phoenix. It is a beautiful, wonderful thing.

But I know it's not like that everywhere, and I know that some of you feel isolated and lonely and even ostracized because of your big families. Some dioceses are wastelands as far as following or even understanding the teachings of the Church on marriage and sexuality, and I often hear the frustration from those of you who don't live in a Catholic Mecca, and who are frazzled, weary, and discouraged. It breaks my heart, and I am sorry.

I don't mean to imply that we mothers-of-many here in Phoenix do not get frazzled, weary, and discouraged (because oh boy, we do!), but I want to acknowledge that we have a consolation here that many of you do not have: We have each other -- a built-in support group of friends who are on call at all times. There is no shortage of women with whom to hang out, complain, cry, compare notes, and laugh about the chaos of it all. We see each other's messy houses, our children's shoeless feet and dirty faces, and we don't feel alone with our big-family problems. We feel supported, loved, cared for, understood, even on the days when we are clinging to the very end of our mommy ropes and our sanity. Even those of our friends who do not have large families stand ready to aid and support those who do.

America is an incredible, amazing land. It's the greatest nation on earth. But it's also become a land of comfort and materialism, which is facilitated by contraception and sterilization. In the past, before the sexual revolution and Margaret Sanger's Birth Control League (now Planned Parenthood), mothers everywhere could celebrate new life and commiserate about the difficulties of raising so many little ones along with most everyone else on the block. It wasn't odd or freakish back then. The community of support was natural and the struggles were normal. Clearly, it's not like that today.

I wish every harried Catholic mom could experience the joy of a truly Catholic community, where talking about the trials of a big family is safe among friends; where the women understand that, although it's insanity in our houses and we are often stretched past imagining, we simultaneously love our vocation; and where we have many others picking us up when we get down and reminding us of the beauty and goodness of the life that surrounds us. I cannot remember a time here when a new pregnancy was not celebrated, even when the mother was initially scared out of her mind to see the two pink lines on that dollar store pregnancy test. The support and love for each other and for life is much more overwhelming than any struggles we encounter. This is as it should be!

It is never easy to raise a big family under any circumstances, but with the encouragement of an entire community, it can be oh, so sweet. On our worst days, I know that my friends and I would not have it otherwise.

Which brings me back to my heartache for those of you who do not have a supportive community. I hear you, I weep for you, and I am so sorry. You are truly heroic. You are the light and the witness in a world that needs it, but it's a heavy burden without a circle of friends who know what your life is like. If I had to go it alone, I shudder to think how I'd do.

This post is simply to acknowledge you, and to assure you that God sees what you are doing, and He loves and supports you, even when it feels like no one else does. You have my gratitude and my love, and I admire you more than you will ever know.

And if all else fails, move to Phoenix.

Or Omaha.

;)

Related posts:   How to Raise Eight Children Without Even Trying

                         Is Having Eight Kids Sketchy? 

                         Why I Never Should Have Had Eight Children

                         Parenting: What I've Done Right

Just Curious: Siblings!

I am in the middle of back-to-back visits from my out-of-town daughters, with a two-day overlap. It's been wonderfully joyful to have them in the house again! My younger daughter (who is expecting a baby boy!) flew in to surprise her little brothers, especially the youngest, who has missed her so much, and my elder daughter came with my adorable granddaughter! My adult son came home from college over the weekend to see his sisters and niece (we were only missing our two fabulous sons-in-law), and all this excitement has left no time for blogging.

But it did make me think of how beautiful is the sibling bond, and it has me wondering:

How many siblings do you have? Are they boys or girls? And where do you fall in the lineup? 

I am the younger of two sisters. We are 19 months apart, and while we did not exactly get along when we were growing up, we are now best of friends! I always wanted a brother, but that was not to be.

One thing that strikes me as so funny now that I am surrounded by not only my own children and grandchildren, but also by my friends' children (soooooo many children!!) is that I never, ever, ever had any babies in my life until I had my own. I didn't have younger siblings, I didn't babysit, my friends didn't have babies in their homes, and I am not even sure I held actual babies more than a handful of times before my first daughter was born. My husband's situation was very similar, as he only had one sibling as well (a younger brother).


I have learned that big families come with unique blessings, such as...


Big sisters who are like second mommies:

Uncles who are just a few years older than nieces, so they can grow up as friends [please note that my granddaughter blows excellent raspberries; she is clearly a genius]:

The number of family members who fawn over the newest baby's sonograms keeps growing. Here are the latest pictures of our beautiful grandson:

Already praying? A future pope, perhaps? 

And a million other reasons, which boil down to love and more love -- oh, and more chances to sacrifice, suffer, and get holy!

Okay, now it's your turn. Whether you are an only child or one of a huge brood, tell me about your siblings (or lack thereof). I'm truly curious and look forward to your comments!