Suppose you’re pregnant.
Suppose it’s your second child.
Suppose you tell a friend about it.
It’s going to be a boy. You already have a girl.
What’s the appropriate reaction from your friend?
Perhaps, “Congratulations! You have one of each now!”
Libby Anne comes from a Quiverfull family, though, and that reaction is far from normal in her world:
The assumption, of course, is that I’m done. I can’t tell you how often I get this. People find out I’m expecting, find out it’s a boy and that I already have a girl in preschool, and they assume I’m done. Two kids, one of each, the perfect American family. It’s not that I’m necessarily not done, it’s just that having been raised in a family influenced by the ideals of the Quiverfull movement, it’s hard to imagine actually thinking that way.
In a Quiverfull family, the second child is simply the second of many. The idea that it might be the last is laughable. That second child will be the second in a stair step line of children lined up to show off, the second in command when you leave the kids to run an errand, the second helper when new children arrive, and the second to use each homeschool textbook.
At least Libby Anne is now out of the lifestyle. After the child is born, she can take all the maternity clothes and give them away, knowing this child will likely be her last. She’s broken the chain. It’s a happy ending.