Why I Chose A Big Family In A World That Told Me Not To
After having six girls in a row, we finally got a boy, and of course everyone asked the question: “So you’re done, right? You finally got that little boy you were trying for?”

As if the only reason to have lots of little girls is because we wanted another boy. Our first was a son.
After little Joseph was born, we added six more girls to the family and one more boy. Four of our daughters were even adopted.
That “little boy” is now 16, and he just brought me a bowl of teriyaki chicken he cooked himself. Last week, he mastered sushi like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And maybe it is, when you grow up in a house where people are always needed, always learning, always contributing, always pitching in.
I always wanted a big family. Growing up, I only knew a couple of families with more than four or five kids. But somewhere deep in me, I believed it would be amazing to have as big a family as possible. I’m not even sure where that idea first came from. I just had a different mindset than most people around me.
I’ve always been a future thinker, playing out in my mind how the choices I make today will impact the next two generations, and how my choices now will shape my own life as I grow older.
Even back then, I noticed that a lot of women were living for the moment and listening to the voice of feminism, whose main message, as it’s often framed, is: “The future doesn’t matter. Live for your pleasure in the now.”
When we were young, my husband and I decided: let’s get married and have as many babies as we can while we’re young. Part of it was love. Part of it was faith. And honestly, part of it was that ridiculous myth floating around that once you hit 30, you’re basically a grandmother who can’t have children anymore.
When I had my sixth baby, I had just turned 30, and I felt great. I had energy. I was healthy. I was thriving. My husband kept telling me I was beautiful. And I remember thinking: why would we stop if this is working, and if love keeps expanding?
I saw so many women around me struggling with loneliness, boredom, or the kind of busyness that still feels empty. Meanwhile, I felt so loved. We were making memories, celebrating life, and never in a hurry. How can you hurry when you have a baby in your arms and a toddler clinging to your legs?
When people would count my kids at the grocery store, they’d often say, “You have your hands full!” And I’d smile and reply, “Better full than empty.”
When my little boy was six months old, my husband surprised me with a trip to the Caribbean. We brought our oldest daughter. She was nine at the time, and she begged to come so she could help with the baby.
I remember sitting there on vacation while my husband kept telling me how beautiful I was, and thinking I had a long way to go before I could agree. He kept taking pictures of me on the beach and telling me my little tummy was a prize, because it carried our eight babies.
Looking back at that photo album now, I feel so proud of my cute belly, too.
The Multigenerational Blessing We Don’t Talk About Enough
One day your babies are on your hip, and then you blink, and they’re cooking dinner, carrying the heavy things, making you laugh, making you pray, becoming the kind of people you always hoped they’d be.
Our children become the mothers and fathers of the next generation.
A big family doesn’t just fill a home. It builds a legacy of love, a living, breathing, imperfect, beautiful line of people who belong to one another.
10 Reasons to Have as Many Kids as You Can (Before It’s Too Late)
If your heart longs for a big family, here are ten reasons I believe it’s worth embracing.
Because love doesn’t “divide,” it multiplies.
More children doesn’t mean less love to go around. It means more love being created. In a big family, joy gets multiplied, and sorrow gets shared.
Because siblings become a built-in community.
They learn loyalty, forgiveness, humor, responsibility, and teamwork, not in theory, but in daily life. Long after you’re gone, they still have each other.
Because it forms resilient adults.
Big-family kids learn how to contribute, adapt, and serve. They learn what it means to be needed, and how to rise to the occasion.
Because making, having, and raising babies is fun and romantic.
Raising a big family keeps love alive and makes a couple into a force.
Because children anchor you and your husband to what matters.
They pull you out of selfishness and into purpose. You stop living for applause and start living for impact. Kids slow you down, and that’s a good thing.
Because your future gets richer and more connected.
More birthdays. More stories. More “come over for dinner.” More hands making the meal, more voices around the table, more people to love.
Because the world isn’t “overrun with children,” it’s aging fast.
Many countries are already feeling what happens when fertility stays low: fewer workers supporting more retirees, which strains pensions, healthcare, and family caregiving.
Because family can be a quiet rebellion against a hollow culture.
I’ve watched a lot of women get sold the idea that the future doesn’t matter, only comfort, only freedom, only “me, right now.” But I’ve always been a future thinker, weighing how today will echo into the next two generations.
Because there’s research linking later fertility to longevity markers.
The Long Life Family Study found women whose last child was after 33 had higher odds of “exceptional survival” (living to about 95+) compared with those whose last birth was earlier.
Because apparently daughters are good for dads (and yes, I laughed too).
A study of historical Polish records found fathers lived longer, about 74 weeks per daughter on average, while sons didn’t show the same effect. We have 12 daughters, so my husband will basically live forever.

Want more from Sarah? To hear the story of her unusual childhood in the 1980s and 1990s, her dream for family, a long-distance romance, travels across oceans, and the vision that led her to choose to open her heart, womb, and home to 15 children, read her biography Windows to Our World.