Canada·First PersonKyle Meyer always used to imagine a second child would complete their family. But after miscarriages and infertility challenges, he’s come to resent certain assumptions people make about having children.I used to think a complete family would be two childrenKyle Meyer · for CBC First Person · Posted: Oct 30, 2025 4:00 AM EDT | Last Updated: 3 hours agoListen to this articleEstimated 5 minutesKyle Meyer, centre, always used to imagine a second child would complete the family he and his wife, Rosie, shared. But after miscarriages and infertility challenges, he’s come to resent certain assumptions people make about having children. (Submitted by Kyle Meyer)This First Person column is written by Kyle Meyer, who lives in Halifax. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.Since our daughter was less than a month old, my wife and I have been asked the same question, in one form or another, from friends, colleagues or even strangers: When are you guys going to have another? They’ll make it sound like being a one-child family is some sin against nature. It’s never been a question we enjoyed hearing, but over the last few years, it’s become triggering for us.We had always planned to have two children. Both my wife and I have younger siblings, so to us, two kids is what felt like a family. A home just didn’t feel like a home if it didn’t have two kids running around in the yard, making faces at each other over dinner or arguing over what to watch on television. When our daughter was born in 2019 we knew we would have another. After all that was the plan. We just didn’t want to do it too soon after our daughter’s birth. The baby and toddler years were busy and we wanted to dedicate as much of ourselves to our daughter as possible, so we chose to wait until she started school. A few years ago, we started planning for a second child. We had an amazing little girl and hoped to grow and — in our minds — complete our family. In fall 2023, my wife became pregnant. We were cautiously optimistic, having experienced a miscarriage a year before our daughter was born; we didn’t want our hopes to go too high too early. Meyer, right, and his wife experienced a miscarriage before their daughter was born in 2019. (Submitted by Kyle Meyer)We were right to stay grounded. On Dec. 23, we went for an ultrasound. That’s when we were told the pregnancy was not viable. It felt like a punch to the guts. How could this happen again? Wasn’t once enough?Needless to say, Christmas that year was not easy.We stopped trying for a few months after that. The emotional toll it took was heavy and we needed time to process.When we decided to start trying again, it took a while. Then, in the summer of last year, my wife discovered she was pregnant again. It was scary. I didn’t know how to feel. It felt dangerous to be excited. But no matter how hard I tried to not be happy too soon, to not even think about the pregnancy yet, I found myself daydreaming about the future with another baby in the house, daydreaming about our daughter and her sibling. This time it was hard to stay grounded. A few weeks later, I was on our deck barbecuing dinner. This is a memory that will be forever seared into my psyche. As I stood at the grill my phone went off. It was my wife texting me. This was strange, because I knew she was in the bathroom inside our home. The message told me to immediately come up. My heart sank, and a lump formed in my throat. I knew what it meant.We went to the emergency department that night and were told, for the second time in less than a year, that the pregnancy was not viable. It felt like someone had just dropped an anvil on us.I felt like I was doing something wrong, like I was failing at something, like I was the problem. We stopped trying for a while after that. We didn’t want to risk a second Christmas spent going through a miscarriage.Once we felt ready, life threw another curveball: we were hit with infertility. It’s filled us with disappointment and, in a way, grief for a future that may no longer be attainable.We’ve spoken with several specialists and heard all of our options. It’s a journey that has worn us down.WATCH | Uneven access to IVF in Canada:$100K and epic drives: The harsh reality of IVF access in CanadaMost of Canada’s fertility clinics are in urban centres, and access to in vitro fertilization varies widely across the country. CBC’s Ellen Mauro joins a woman on her IVF journey and finds out how far some people will go to grow their families.It wasn’t an easy decision for us to make, but we are slowly coming to terms with the notion that we may not have a second child and that our daughter may be an only child. It left us with an incomplete feeling.The experience left wounds; once festering and raw, they’re slowly starting to heal. So when people, many of whom don’t know us that well — or at all — ask if we want a second child, it’s like poking a fingernail under a scab and pulling it off. The wound is raw and starts bleeding again.Our story isn’t unique. We are far from alone. I’ve discovered from speaking with people about our own struggles that miscarriage and infertility is frighteningly common. About one in six Canadian couples experience infertility. Meyer, right, says not trying for a second child again is a decision that he and his wife found difficult to make, and they are slowly accepting their daughter may be an only child. (Submitted by Kyle Meyer)So please think twice before asking someone about their family plans. It isn’t anyone’s business but theirs, and you don’t know what wounds you may inadvertently be picking open.Do you have a compelling personal story that can bring understanding or help others? We want to hear from you. Here’s more info on how to pitch to us.ABOUT THE AUTHORKyle Meyer worked as a paramedic for 17 years before handing in his resignation. He lives in Halifax with his wife and daughter.
I love my daughter. But it stings when people ask if I want another child
