It was four years ago this July that my husband and I opened up to all of our family and friends to let them know our struggle. After years of trying, we were unsuccessful in having a baby that we so longed for. We were broken. We were hopeless. At that point, we started to prepare for “childless living.” We sold our house, vacationed, attended a lot of concerts, and adopted a sweet little fur-baby. This was our new normal…or so we thought.
This November will mark four years since we got the surprise of a lifetime: we were expecting our son and were already seven weeks into our pregnancy. To say we were thankful, blessed, and overjoyed wouldn’t even scratch the surface of our emotions. All of those dreams that we had given up on were suddenly coming true.
We welcomed our little miracle in July 2015, and our life has been pretty darn great ever since. In those three short years, we have moved into our forever home, taken a ridiculous amount of trips to Disney, and soaked up every moment of his sweet little presence. We cherish every second with him, including the good, the bad, and the ugly, as we never thought we would live any of this. I may be biased, but he is perfect.
Regardless of our past struggles with infertility, the question always comes up: when will you give him a brother or sister?
Since we had our son, I have been firm on a “one and done”-type mentality. I went as far as to ask my doctor for an on-the-spot hysterectomy right after giving birth. But, as he gets a little older, and I see his friends with their siblings, it makes me rethink…could we do it again? And that is where the full-on panic sets in!
For us, it’s not just as simple as “let’s try to have another baby!” The emotions are so much deeper heading in for a second time, knowing what we went through to have our son. Stress, panic, worry, and so much guilt surround me any time the topic comes up.
Trying to get pregnant with our son was such a long process. The process was full of disappointment and was emotionally and physically draining. Each month going through multiple doctors appointments, pills and shots, only to have a negative result month over month was so defeating. There were times where I was so drained, it was hard to function in normal day-to-day activities. But if we were to try again and not be successful, I don’t feel like I could have those same emotions.
As tough as it would be to not have that second child, how could I be disappointed when really I should have never been able to have a child at all?
My other big concern is around my son and his feelings. He is a true blue mama’s boy, the baby bear to my mama bear. We are together all the time, and he is truly my little partner in crime. If we try and are unsuccessful in having a second child, would he feel that he wasn’t enough, or that he didn’t complete our family?
As we agonize over which direction to go, our hearts and minds are still so torn on what do to or where to go from here. There are so many emotions surrounding it, regardless of where we land. It’s hard to know if there really is a right answer to the question…