My Narrative Essay

I feel like an endangered animal, bordering on extinction. But unlike other endangered animals, there is no one trying to save me. I am unique, but not in the right way it seems. Like an animal in the zoo that is gawked at, I feel increasingly alone while surrounded by the masses. Caged into my own separate area--accepted, but not completely understood. With the answer to one seemingly simple question, there are looks and words of amazement, curiosity, and also of reproach and disdain. Not knowing which reaction will come, I tense every time I reveal the truth of who I am. I am a mother of seven.

The answer is surprising to most and immediately the questions start. The questions tend to go in the same order, with little variation. The first question is always "are they all yours?" "Yes." The surprise is evident in their eyes. The first thought is that I must have a blended family because no one would choose to have that many children. When that question is answered incorrectly, the next logical reason for having so many children leads people to ask "are any of them twins?" "No." Again, my answer is incorrect. My answers seem to baffle the listener.

The next question is the one that hurts the most. "Were they all planned?" "Yes." I love my children and wanted and planned each one of them, and the presumption that some of my children must be "mistakes" hurts. "Do you plan to have any more?" Somewhere between the last two questions is usually where I sense a change in some people. Sometimes it leads people to ask, "Don't you know what birth control is?" Often times it is said jokingly, but the meaning is still clear. I am obviously one of "those" people who have more children than they can care for. This is when I try to let slip the fact that my husband is an attorney, so that I can fix the misguided perception that they have formed of me.

This encounter happened with a bagger from the grocery store just in the minute or two that it took to walk to my vehicle and unload my groceries, but similar encounters happen everywhere. I was never going to see this person again, yet the fact that I had a large family seemed to override the normal societal rules that would keep a person from asking such personal questions. Normally, I do not mind. I know that most people do not mean anything by the questions; they are just curious. But to me, it seems like with every encounter, society is trying to remind me that I do not belong.

Surprisingly, most of the whispers, piercing looks and negative comments come from other women. I feel like they are harder on me, because to them I am a step backwards for women. Women have worked hard to have the right to be what they want to be, but I sometimes feel that that does not apply if a woman wants to fulfill the traditional role of motherhood. By choosing to stay home and have a large family, some women view me as not smart, motivated, or capable enough of doing anything else. If I were smarter, then I would be "doing" something with my life. I believe I am. I believe having and raising a family is one of the most important things I will ever do. I am a woman, but I am looked down on by other women for not making the "right" choice.

Society judges people on what they do and accomplish, and unfortunately, motherhood does not afford many opportunities for outward validation. In a society where fewer women stay home and have large families, what does that say about the women who do? I grew up in a family with eight children and large families were uncommon then. Now they seem to have disappeared to the point where the only large families people know of are the ones where parents are "uneducated," "irresponsible," or had "mistakes."

I recently went back to school, and interestingly enough, while I still get the surprise for the number of children that I have, "doing" something with my life seems to have made being a mother of seven more acceptable. I always wanted to be a mom and have a large family, and I am happy with my choice. I only wish I did not have to justify my choice to everyone I meet.