Only one kid: the rise of the single child family - The Jewish Chronicle

Even the least religious among us know that the Bible says “Be fruitful and multiply”, in other words being a good Jew means having lots of children. For the most observant, the Shoah has added urgency to the sacred duty to procreate, hence frum families having up to 17 children as the ultimate riposte to Hitler.

Even for the less devout, the image of the large, happy Jewish family hovers over us, or lies deep in our psyche as an example we should admire if not aspire to. We don’t hear nearly so much about the small Jewish family, the parents with a single child. It may not be part of our self-image, but increasingly “one and done” is part of the reality.

In this, as in so much else, the Jewish community reflects the country we live in. The Office for National Statistics tells us nearly half of all families with children have just one. Some of those might go on to have more children, but of women aged 45 and born in 1975 who are assumed to have completed their childbearing years in 2020, 17 per cent had only one. According to the Institute for Jewish Policy Research, for the Jewish community the comparable figure is 13 per cent, and rising. That means the one-child families are an increasingly visible part of our landscape, too. So what is the reality behind the statistics? We set out to find these new families changing the face of Britain’s Jewish community.

Hilary Freeman with civil partner Mickael and daughter Sidonie, nine years ago[Missing Credit]

Hilary Freeman is nobody’s idea of the conventional Jewish housewife and mother, living as she does on a houseboat in Limehouse Basin, a long way from the suburban heartlands of north-west London. A freelance journalist and author, she regularly does the rounds of television and radio studios as a talk-show guest, and when I speak to her she’s in Nice in the south of France, where she’s retreated to write her latest book. Nine-year-old daughter Sidonie has inherited her mother’s pre-Raphaelite curls and blue eyes, and her father’s height. A curious, questioning child, she loves art and drama and is a precocious reader. Hilary’s first marriage ended without children; she was 40 when she met her civil partner, Sidonie’s father Mickaël.

Hilary with Sidonie and Mickael[Missing Credit]

“I had a lot of losses,” she says. “I had two miscarriages and one late termination for medical reasons. Then eventually, when I was 44 I had Sidonie, so I left it quite late to have my first child.

“Finally, I had a healthy pregnancy, and then she was born prematurely. She was in hospital for three and a half weeks, it was all very scary. My pregnancy was very medicalised because of all the problems I had before, and it was pretty horrible.”

We’ve got a wonderful, healthy, lovely little girl. You know, we’re very lucky. Let’s just be happy with that

She was reluctant to face another challenging pregnancy. “I felt I didn’t want to tempt fate. Also, by the time I was ready to even think about having a second child I would then have been 46 and obviously the older you get, the more likely that there are more problems.”

But there was also another factor, one the couple share with many other modern parents: money worries. Hilary’s job may look glamorous, but freelancing is insecure and unpredictable, while Mickaël’s work as an actor and voice-over artist is far from lucrative. She says, “There was just no way that I could afford to have another child that needed nursery or childcare of any kind, so we’d have had to wait till [Sidonie] was at school even to be able to think about it, financially.” At the time they lived in a two-bedroom flat. “How would we actually afford to have a second child?”

Though Sidonie would love a sibling, Hilary says she’s never felt any pressure from the family or Jewish community to have another child. And she has no regrets. “We’ve got a wonderful, healthy, lovely little girl. You know, we’re very lucky. Let’s just be happy with that.”

Financial considerations have also been a big factor in single mum Viola Levy’s decision to have just one child. Her son Lenny is nearly two and “growing into his own person now”. He loves singing and reading and exploring how things work. “He’s kind of having his own voice and his own thoughts and opinions on things,” says Viola.

Viola and Lenny Photo: Omer Barr[Missing Credit]

Being a single mother was a conscious decision, based on awareness of her ticking biological clock. “At the beginning of my thirties I’d come out of a serious relationship that I thought would be the happy ending to my story but didn’t work out, and then I had some time just to be alone by myself. When we came out of lockdown I was at an age where I was thinking if I want to have kids, it’s now or never. The timeline of trying to meet somebody and settling down and having time with them and then having kids, it just seemed to be a bit too risky.

My son needs a mother who is present and available for him and not stressed and worried about money. He needs that more than he needs a sibling

“So that made me think, well, maybe I should consider having a child by myself, and then it also removes that pressure. I didn’t want to start dating just so I could have a child, because I feel like that’s not fair to anyone involved. I thought, I still want to meet somebody and have a partner and do all of that, but why don’t I just do things in a different order, so have a child by myself, and then I can meet somebody, but there’s not that pressure.”

Viola found a sperm donor, then went through IVF, which was quickly successful and Lenny was born. She’s recently set up an agency called Smart Beauty Creative, working with beauty brands to help them stand out in a crowded marketplace. That means she’s found herself having to do all the hard work involved in a startup just when Lenny needed her the most, and it has been tough.

“I feel like my business is like my second child at the moment, and I feel like I’ve got a really nice balance in my life. So I feel like throwing another baby into the mix would just throw everything off kilter. It’s taken me so long to finally get that happy medium.” But, she has further embryos in storage, so “never say never”.

Viola and Lenny[Missing Credit]

Viola says her inner circle of family and friends, including her mother, are supportive of her decision to stick at one. Several of Lenny’s friends at nursery and synagogue are also only children, and Viola has a peer group of Jewish single mums, most of whom also have an only child for now. She says, “I personally feel that my son needs a mother who is present and available for him and not stressed and worried about money. He needs that more than he needs a sibling.”

Declining family size isn’t unique to Britain, it is echoed across all OECD countries, with one exception. In Israel the average number of children for Jewish women is on a rising curve and hit 3.13 in 2021. There, one-child families make up just 12 per cent of the total, compared to 45 per cent in the UK.

Statistically, of course, the strictly Orthodox with their large families are complete outliers whichever country they live in. I spoke to Shmuel (not his real name) in Jerusalem who has a sole and much adored child, a daughter now aged 14. He described how lonely life can be for families affected by infertility when they live within a world full of pregnant women, where every day brings a bris or a kiddush for a baby girl. For him, a wonderful social worker helped enormously, “I learned from her that our family was perfect as it is.”

At JCounselling, where the client group come from a variety of backgrounds, family therapist Adele Wieder says single-child families are still a rarity. It’s often because parents have one child, but then experience “secondary” infertility when they try for another. She describes the emotion as a form of grief, exacerbated in the frum community by the expectation that they will have several children. But she says it’s no different if parents are secular. “I would say that the grief that they suffer would be very similar.”

Maybe grief isn’t quite the right word for what Joseph Lichy, 47, feels, but I detect a hint of sadness from the single dad that his daughter is alone. He grew up in a secular home in Penzance, but is bringing up his own nine-year-old daughter Ginette in the Liberal tradition. They belong to Oxford Jewish Congregation, which unites a range of religious affiliations under one roof.

Joseph with Ginette Photo: Omer Barr[Missing Credit]

An artist and teacher, Joseph has a 50-50 co-parenting arrangement with his Italian ex-wife, though originally he did imagine he’d have more children. “I have a brother who means a lot to me, and I would have liked that for Ginette,” he says. “If you have a sibling, you have a little gang, don’t you? An ally in the world.” But having a second child was never an option Joseph and his ex-wife considered. “It was never quite the right time, and then we separated,” he says. “I think that is a natural process of accepting things.”

Joseph and Ginette Photo: Omer Barr[Missing Credit]

He muses about the possibility of meeting a new partner. “I would like to find someone who has kids, and that Ginette would have something like a sibling, but I think it would be difficult for her.” He says their current situation does have its advantages. “She gets all of my love and her mum’s love too, and I actually don’t think that she’s lonely either. So I think it’s OK.”

She gets all of my love and her mum’s love too, and I actually don’t think she’s lonely either. So I think it’s OK

In her 2014 book One and Only, (Simon & Schuster ebook, £9.99) Brooklyn-based journalist Lauren Sandler explodes many of the prevasive beliefs about only children. She says research shows singletons are exceptionally adept at building relationships, good at sharing, often more self-possessed, with higher achievement motivation and self-esteem than children with siblings. There is no evidence that they are more likely to be narcissists, egotists or selfish as has often been claimed, and she concludes they are more maligned than maladjusted.

Danielle Brandon-Rocks looks relieved when I tell her this. She says when her son Jonah, now 17, was at Jewish youth camp in the summer he was told he didn’t have a “single-child vibe” about him, which he took as a compliment. Although she was pleased too, “it hurts that there is such a stigma”.

Because Danielle and husband Michael both have busy careers in the film industry and business consultancy, they came to parenthood late in life. “I just was not a maternal person. I never had any internal urges or instincts, and we have never been great at planning ahead.”

Danielle, Michael and Jonah Photo: Omer Barr[Missing Credit]

But on a trip to New York they saw stand-up comedian Judy Gold, who talked about being a Jewish mother. “It’s just something that really kind of landed with me. At that moment, I thought, ‘Oh my God, I better hurry up!’” Jonah was born the next year, but Danielle’s age meant there would be no more children. “We are,” she says, “incredibly lucky to have one amazing kid.”

In fact, the pressure to give Jonah a sibling hasn’t come from the Jewish community, but from outside it. “People say to me: ‘Go on! You should have another one.’ Or ‘That’s cruel, he’ll be lonely’, without any sensitivity at all.”

Danielle with Michael and Jonah Photo: Omer Barr[Missing Credit]

Because she was aware “that most families didn’t look like us” Danielle worked hard to build friendships for Jonah when he was little “so he didn’t feel alone” and has discussed the matter frankly with him.

“I’ve had a lot of conversations with Jonah about the fact that he hasn’t got any siblings, and I say, ‘If there was another child the dynamic would be completely different. We wouldn’t have the connection that we have. Of course, we’d still absolutely love you in the same way.’

“We have a really special little unit. You know, we’re a very tight little threesome and we really enjoy each other’s company. We talk a lot, we laugh a lot.”

Topics:

Family

Jewish family

one-child families