What do Rihanna and Mummy Pig have in common?

Can only the mega-rich and super-famous (or cartoon pigs) have a big family in London these days, Eilidh Dorgan asks

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Not one for a casual baby announcement, Rihanna used the Met Gala as the stage to confirm that she’s pregnant with her third child. Hot off the heels of Mummy Pig’s gender reveal (a girl, ICYMI) - it feels like everyone and their farm animal is having baby number three. Since I had my second child at the same time that Rihanna had hers, I feel slightly panicked by the news since I, personally, am not ready to make a decision about adding a third to my brood.

For Rihanna, a woman with a private jet that could house a small village, it’s not much of a concern for her that a third child would bring extra flight costs, and I’m sure that her bank account wouldn’t feel pillaged by an additional set of nursery fees. The almighty chaos that children bring probably doesn’t overpower Rihanna’s day, and I’m sure that she has people on call to help when toddlers errantly wee throughout the house, put small objects in their ear canals, or cover themselves in Vaseline.

I’ve always thought that I might have three children - or at least that was my answer whenever I was asked prior to having any. One always seemed a bit lonely and four sounded like you were trying to repopulate the earth, but two or three sounded quite normal and sensible. Now, years later and with two children in tow, I still have the relatively same non-committal answer, as though I could always just buy another one from the corner shop if I changed my mind last minute. While I like the idea of having a large family with a full dinner table, rowdy Christmas reunions, and five million grandchildren - the road to that distant place feels littered with anarchy and poverty. A sentiment, it seems, that others share, with fertility rates plummeting to 1.44 children per woman in 2023.

Would a third child add too much chaos, Eilidh Dorgan asks

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Since I don’t have the robust funds of Rihanna (or Mummy Pig), the prospect of a third child is daunting. Without a nanny, and only spotty nursery coverage throughout the week, a large chunk of the childcare is left to me - and I’m basically on the brink of psychosis with two. Already outnumbered and often ganged up on by a duo of impish sprites, I fear what a third child would add to the dynamic. When I picture my life with three young children, all I can see is a broken woman crying on the floor while one child tries to bite through a television cable, another drinks sun cream, and a third mounts me like a horse — like some kind of Medieval depiction of Hell.

And then - on top of the pandemonium and mayhem, there’s also the inescapable monetary strain of a third child. The additional nursery fees would creep in just as my daughter was ready to start primary school, and the financial respite on the horizon would quickly disappear. There’s also the extra tickets for every activity we’d ever do, the increased holiday costs, and the new car we’d need to buy. Not to mention the Christmas presents, birthday parties, and university fees, as well as financial help towards a house in adulthood. Like cutting a fringe, a third child is an idea that always feels alluring in theory, but in practice seems like it could be an irreversible nightmare.

But, despite all this - I do still feel the pull to have a third every time I see my children play together nicely, when my daughter makes a fart joke, or in the rare moments when they aren’t shrieking in tandem. While I haven’t made up my mind yet, it does look like I’d either have to become a billionaire or a cartoon pig to be able to afford a third baby — neither of which I’m ruling out, although the latter seems more likely.

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