The Baby Question
Colleen McKie
The cake was barely cut. The flowers hadn’t started to wilt. The ink was still drying on the marriage license. Yet, for the third time that day, I found myself face–to- face with the one question that, apparently, will follow me everywhere I go from now on. The one question everyone in the free world thinks they have the right to ask. Some do it politely; some just blurt it out. Others ask it in a way that sneaks up on me. No matter how the question is asked, it all results in the same thing: me awkwardly put on the spot, laughing in a hysterically nervous manner or tripping over words of explanation. The question? I can sum it up in one word: babies.
In the receiving line at my June 16th, 2007, wedding, one well-meaning relative gave me a big hug, a peck on the cheek, and then asked in a sly manner, “So I imagine a baby will be shortly on the way?” She then stood in front of me waiting for the confirmation. I could have lied, or simply smiled. Instead I said the two words no elderly relative wants to hear (or understands) when asking the Baby Question. I said, “We’ll see.” The woman blinked at me twice then walked away in a kind of stupor.
The next time I was confronted with the Baby Question, which was at the reception, I tried another approach: I just laughed. I thought, hey, laughter is positive. This Aunt blinked at me three times and then walked away. The third time I was asked the Question, I just pretended I was too drunk to understand and stumbled out of the bathroom.
My husband and I dated for five years before becoming engaged. For four of those five years, I put up with the other question everyone thinks they are entitled to ask: The Ring Question. Holidays were particularly rough with people asking me what Jason got me, or simply grabbing my hand to check for a ring. When we got engaged, this line of interrogation stopped. I had two wonderful years of no embarrassing questions. But no one told me about this new line of questioning that starts the moment the wedding band is on your finger. I know, I know. I should have been smart enough to figure it out on my own.
Apparently I wasn’t.
If you are a newlywed who is actively trying to start a family, answering the Baby Question is easy and always gets the same response from the asker: squealing and big smiles. But if you are a newlywed like me and you aren’t even sure if you want kids, the question asker will have one of two responses: embarrassment or pity. The most common of these, pity, usually results in a lot of “I’m sorry”s or ”I’m sure you’ll have kids someday.” The odd person will have the follow-up question “Why not?”’ for which I always answer with the very mature “because.”
I know people are only asking because they care, or at the very least are nosey, but sometimes I just want to tell them it’s none of their business. I have actually devised a way to get people to stop asking. It goes like this:
Caring aunt: So have you starting trying to have a baby yet?
Husband: Baby? I don’t want any babies.
Me: You don’t want babies? What do you mean you don’t want babies? I thought you loved me! Cue the waterworks.
Photo Credits: "On the Beach" photo courtesy of Colleen McKie; "Baby" photo (cover) courtesy of Kylie Nelson-Louttit (all permissions granted).
"The Baby Question" is Colleen's first article for Edwards.
