For many women, the question “When are you going to have children?” isn’t harmless conversation. It is a painful reminder of a deeply personal journey. In this column, award winning beauty therapist and aesthetic practitioner Prity reflects on why families should replace pressure with compassion.
This week, a client came into the clinic for what should have been an ordinary appointment. Instead, she quietly shared something that has stayed with me ever since.
She had been married for several years and, despite desperately wanting a baby, had been unable to conceive.
As she spoke, it became clear that her greatest struggle wasn’t just the emotional pain of infertility. It was the constant pressure surrounding it.
Every family gathering brings the same questions.
“Any good news yet?”
“When are you going to start a family?”
“Don’t leave it too late.”
For many South Asian women, these aren’t innocent questions. They become a constant reminder of something they may already be grieving in private.
Growing up, many of us hear the same message: get married before your biological clock runs out. Marriage and motherhood are often spoken about as though they are milestones that must happen within a certain timetable.
But life doesn’t always follow the plans we make.
Some couples conceive quickly. Others wait years. Some endure multiple rounds of fertility treatment. Some experience heartbreaking miscarriages. Others never have children at all.
Yet, despite this, society still seems to place the overwhelming responsibility on women.
When a couple struggles to conceive, why is it so often assumed that the problem lies with the wife?
Why is she the one facing the questions, the whispers and the unsolicited advice?
Why isn’t the same scrutiny directed at men?
The reality is that fertility challenges can affect both partners equally. Medical science has shown that infertility is not solely a female issue. Yet culturally, many women continue to carry the emotional burden almost alone.
The client I met spoke about how these repeated questions had begun affecting her confidence, her mental wellbeing and even her relationship with her husband. Every family gathering became something to dread rather than enjoy.
It made me wonder how many other women are carrying this invisible weight.
As someone who works closely with women every day, I know that behind every smile there can be a story we know nothing about.
Perhaps the most important thing we can all remember is that having children is not something anyone can simply will into existence. For many families, faith plays an important role too. Many believe that children are ultimately a blessing given in God’s time, not ours.
If that is what we believe, then perhaps we also need to trust that timing rather than placing pressure on people who are already hurting.
Instead of asking when someone is having children, maybe we should ask how they are.
Instead of offering advice they didn’t ask for, perhaps we should simply offer kindness.
And instead of making assumptions, we should recognise that every family’s journey is different.
How families can offer support instead of pressure
- Stop asking the question. If someone wants to share news about having children, they will do so when they are ready.
- Avoid comparisons. Every couple’s journey is different, and comparing them to siblings or cousins only deepens the hurt.
- Remember that fertility is a couple’s journey. Don’t automatically assume the woman is responsible.
- Respect privacy. Fertility treatment, miscarriage and pregnancy loss are deeply personal experiences.
- Offer encouragement, not judgement. Sometimes the greatest support is simply listening without trying to solve the problem.
- Be mindful of your words. Even comments made with good intentions can leave lasting emotional scars.
We often talk about the importance of family in South Asian culture. Family should be our greatest source of comfort, not our greatest source of pressure.
Sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is replace questions with compassion.
