It all started with a photo of my family in front of Cinderella’s castle, smiling and excited to be in our favorite place. Then I saw the comment: “Surely one of your daughters will have loftier goals than breeding and choose an education instead of a baby.” I paused, took a deep breath, and set my phone aside. I’ve grown used to people judging the size of our family, but this one stung.
When my husband and I first met, we dreamed of having a soccer team of kids. In 2004, our first daughter was born, and we loved every moment of being parents. By 2010, three sons had joined us, and our dream of a large family was coming true. Early on, I was naive to think others wouldn’t judge us. My children were happy and loved, how could anyone say anything bad about that?
As we added more kids, the comments started, harsh and hurtful ones. Strangers would look at me with disgust and say, “You should have used birth control.” One person even wrote, “I’d love to see you in 10 years when you have nothing for higher education, emergencies, investments.” Little did she know, we had faced plenty of challenges. I’d experienced early miscarriages, and later, the heartbreak of losing our fourth child in the second trimester. A few years after that, we watched our home burn to the ground, escaping with our children while waiting for fire trucks. Those moments were traumatic, but they didn’t break us, they made us closer, stronger, and grateful for every moment.
As we carried on that day, I focused on my kids’ smiles and laughter, letting the stranger’s words fade. She didn’t know the deep losses I had felt, the postpartum anxiety I battled, or the seven months we lived in tiny trailers while our home was rebuilt. She didn’t know us at all, yet felt entitled to judge.
I wanted to respond, to defend my children and our family, to explain that they have goals, talents, and hearts full of love. But instead, I asked her if she needed a hug. I believe people who are angry and mean need love the most.
Being a mom is hard, and hearing cruel comments about your children is even harder. But I choose kindness, and I’m teaching my ten kids to choose it too. At the end of the day, my family is happy, loved, and strong. A stranger’s comment on Instagram doesn’t change that, it only reminds me how blessed we are to have each other.
