THREE CHILDREN: ‘The third must have been an accident’

REBECCA LEY, 39, is married and has three children, Isobel, eight, Felix, five, and Sebastian, two

‘So… was it an accident?’ said the mother at the school gate, surveying my burgeoning bump and the two children I already had in tow.

‘No...no,’ I said, laughing as though she had made a joke. It was only later that the remark bothered me. Our third child wasn’t an accident – far from it.

I always wanted three. The exhaustion and chaos of two young children didn’t put me off as it did some of my friends.

In fact, I was broodiest for my third child. I knew what it was all about by then and pined for a downy head to nuzzle, a bundle dozing on my chest, a little plug-socket mouth to feed. It was a visceral, animal longing that no amount of sensible analysis could dissipate. I’ve never been as certain of anything as I was that I wanted baby number three – but no more.

Sure enough, after Sebastian arrived in February 2016, I was done. It was the big family I wanted, one that just about fits within the boundaries of normality.

At least that’s how I see it. I’ve lost count of the number of ‘You’ve got your hands full there, haven’t you?’ comments I’ve received. And the glances in the park when people work out that, yes, there are three of them.

From an environmental perspective I know that many people think having a third child is selfish. Indeed, one of my oldest friends launched into a diatribe about overpopulation when Seb was just a few weeks old. ‘I just don’t know how anyone has children. It’s such a huge responsibility,’ she said, invoking rising sea levels and disaster. ‘I can’t imagine having one child, let alone three.’

I didn’t know how to respond. It is a massive, exhausting and occasionally terrifying responsibility. Our world is uncertain. But nothing in our life has ever felt as clear cut.