When Are You Going To…? Learning to Live Beyond the Questions
The Space Between Questions
As a 41-year-old woman with no children, I’ve heard a lot of comments over the years about being a two-person family instead of three or more.
When I was dating my husband, people asked when we’d get engaged.
When we got engaged, it became when we’d get married.
And when we got married, the question shifted again—when will you have children?
When? When? WHEN?
The Pressure of Other People’s Timelines
Changing my family role—from daughter, to wife, to maybe mother—often felt like there was a clock ticking that wasn’t mine.
I had to remind my 20-something self that my pace was just fine.
But at the time, it was hard to believe that when only two people—my husband and me—seemed content with it.
Looking back, I can see that most people were simply making conversation.
Weddings and babies bring excitement. They wanted to connect with me through joy.
Maybe they didn’t want me to miss out on it.
But in the end, those conversations were often more about their excitement than my reality.
The choice to have (or not have) a child is life-shaping.
It reaches far beyond the joy of a baby shower or a newborn photo.
We wanted to think through that decision carefully—to talk, plan, imagine, and decide in our own way, at our own time.
The Stories People Tell
Even after I learned to smile through those conversations, the questions still came.
“I know a couple who didn’t have kids… and then they got divorced.”
“Some people are just selfish not to have children.”
“The Bible says to have kids.”
“Children are the best thing that ever happened to us.”
People rarely mean to be unkind.
Sometimes they’re unsure what to say, or they project their own experiences.
Sometimes it’s just small talk that lands too close to the heart.
Now, in my forties, I’m past the “expected” age. If I were pregnant today, I’m sure there would be new opinions waiting.
But back then—in my twenties and thirties—it felt like living by the alarm clock of someone else’s expectations.
What I’ve Learned
I don’t feel offended anymore—just thoughtful.
Sometimes surprised, sometimes curious about where a person’s comment comes from.
Most of the time, I see the good intentions behind the words, even if they miss the mark.
That’s the beauty of hindsight: I can hear the comment and also hear the story beneath it.
For Anyone Navigating These Conversations
If you’re asking someone about their journey, try to meet them where they are now.
They already know the “next steps” society expects. Give them the space to decide if and when those steps fit their life.
And if you do ask, listen fully—accept whatever answer they give as an act of care.
If you’re on the other side—wondering how or when to make these choices—trust yourself.
You and your partner are the ones living the story, steering the boat, deciding who and what fills it.
That’s part of growing up: leaning on the person you chose, tuning out the noise, and honoring your own timing.
Whatever course you take, may it feel like yours.
Hugs.
HZ Reflections 