The idea of 1 was first born because of my utter disdain toward pregnancy. My husband and I both agreed that I could not go through that again. It was downright miserable and straining on our marriage and would only be worse when you add a rambunctious toddler to the equation. Compounding on those factors is the fact that, if I were to be that sick again, I would literally miss out on 9 months of my sweet Moose's life, which is something that does not sit well with me.
As Myra grew through infant hood, we grew comfortable with the idea of "one and done." Amongst many other reasons, she started sleeping through the night at 6.5 weeks and was an overall really easy kid and we figured that would never happen to us again. Why tempt fate?
Last spring though, when Moosey was around 16 months, we started to reconsider. While Josh and I were still fine with the idea of one, we started to feel guilty about the notion of not giving her a sibling. He and I are both very close to our brothers and couldn't imagine denying her that unique sibling relationship. The thought of her having to just hang out with us on vacations made me sad for her.
What sealed the deal for me was reading a blog post about a woman who had chosen to only have one child (for really great reasons). She wrote about the rude things that people say to her (because people can't keep their damn mouths shut) and one of them was "don't you feel bad that your child could end up spending Thanksgiving alone once you are gone?"
Stupid, right? Well, it totally got to me. I turned to Josh and said, "that's it, we are having another child. I never want Myra to be alone in this world."
I know, you can shoot a million holes in this argument. I don't need you to though because I have already shot them myself. She will have other family. She will have friends. There is no guarantee that she will get along with her siblings. There is no guarantee that they will live close enough to get together. Etc, etc, etc. Stupid stupid stupid.
None of it matters though. I just can't bear the thought of her being "alone in the world." So, then, it was decided. We would have another child.
Once it was decided that we would have another child, we decided to just go for it next year. If we are going to do it anyway, we may as well just do it. Plus, I am sick of hoarding baby stuff and the sooner a baby is here, the sooner I can get rid of swings, bottles, breast pumps, and exersaucers.
But, alas, I am now second guessing our decision again. Here is why: I absolutely adore my sweet little family. It feels complete. I never feel like something is missing.
In fact, the thought of adding another child to the equation makes me a little bit sad. I love my life with Myra. I am lucky enough to work part-time, so she and I have settled into our routine, especially on our days off. I love sitting with her in her room and playing "good morning" with her animals. I love reading books to her while she sits on my lap. I love cooking dinner while she sits on the floor behind me and cooks her "deep-a (pizza)." I love going to Kroger with her and watching her "drive" the cart while simultaneously making her Lara Bars dance (yes, true story). I watching her naked butt run to the bathroom every night to go "swimming in the bath."
Our family of 4 last Christmas.
I love this little life that we have created and I worry what adding another baby will do to it. I know that I would love my next child as much as I love Myra. That isn't the issue. What I struggle with is the fact that having another baby will significantly change our lives and, quite frankly, I don't want to change anything about our lives. I feel like my life is perfect right now.
So, there it is, folks. Talk about a first world problem, right? Hell, not even a first world problem. I know people who would kill to have just one child. Trust me, I don't ever lose sight of that. For me though, this is a huge decision.
What is your input? Were you one and done? Do you have multiple kids? What was your motivation?