You may have surmised that Georgia is an only child. If my husband Hova could carry, nurse and mother a baby, we’d probably have another, but I am done. I’ve always secretly considered big families a little wasteful or ostentatious, plus I’ve never liked my own sibling, so I just didn’t see the point. It took a long time for us to decide to have one child in this world, and I don’t have the energy for another. I’ve never felt bad about this decision, even when one friend called me selfish, because “What about when you die? Georgia will have no one to grieve with.” Considering we’re raising her to be a kind and social person who will surely attract a family of friends and loved ones, I am not worried about that.

But now, Georgia has her own opinions. And they're starting to kick in hard.

“When can I have a little sister?”

Trying to keep it positive, I cooed my response: “We aren’t having any more children because you are our one-and-only!”

“But I want someone to play with that isn’t you or Daddy!” Her logic was tempting… but I shook off my delusional daydream and said, “But all the brothers and sisters we know fight a lot, and little kids get into your stuff.”

“But I would share my toys with my sister.” It’s probably true; she’s endearingly generous with her things. Still, I countered, “If we had another baby you’d have to share Daddy’s and my attention with her. You don’t even like when Pee Wee (the cat) sits on my lap. How would you feel when a baby was hungry and I needed to give her some nursie?”

She knew I had her there. She would not be able to tolerate breastfeeding, something she still talks about with longing. “Welllll," she deduced a solution. "We could just have a three year old, not a baby.”

Usually at times like this I find a way to let her know I’ve heard her and will consider her idea. This time I knew I needed to make sure there was no room for argument.

“Sweetie, we love you so much, we really don’t want to have another child. We just want to enjoy seeing you grow and helping you through life without anyone else to distract us. Plus, it’s not good for the earth to have too many kids.”

Uh oh. I had never put words to that thought [0] before, but it rang true. And it also seemed like a perfect excuse. I’m glad I stopped myself from saying having fewer kids would help save polar bears. I knew I would hear this argument from the mouth of my babe at a playdate someday — most of our friends have more than one kid, and a few of them even seem to be enjoying them! But for the moment, Georgia seemed to accept that having one child was the prudent thing to do without more discussion, and ever since, the thought has been buzzing around my head. If the Earth’s resources are being sucked dry and population growth is a problem, should we start considering the environment [1] before succumbing to “cute baby belly” [2] urges?