Once my son turned one, the idea of having another kid slowly crept in. It started with admiration on the cuteness of other babies, to wanting to hold babies, to wanting to smell babies, to friends getting pregnant, to being jelly that they were pregnant, and finally to demanding another child.
My baby fever came in hot and took over my body. I started wishing that my period would not come and when it came late, I started getting excited about the possibility of being pregnant. I became slightly obsessed, that is, until my husband gave me a reality check.
He said he did not want any more kids. At first I thought that he was just saying that at the moment and that he wasn’t being serious, but as time passed his answer remained the same.
My heart started to sink every time his answer stayed the same. It even got to a point where he threatened to get a vasectomy. I was so confused and still am. We have always been on the same page when it came to kids. We both said we would have two with the possibility of three, but as my son gets older, my husband seems more and more sure that our journey is “one and done.”
I want to be pregnant again. I want to feel a child move inside me. I want to have another birth experience. I want all the snuggles and chubby feet. I want to meet a new human. I want our family to grow. I want to fall in love all over again. I want all of it….
I wait. I wait for the possibility that in a few years he may change his mind. I wait to have hope again. For now, I suffer in silence. I hope that things change in a few years once our son is more independent, but I worry by then it will be too late. I worry that by the time he decides to have another one, I will have given up and not want another one at that point.
For anyone else struggling with this scenario, I would love to hear how you handled it. I do not have an answer for you but I hope that eventually we all get to meet a tiny human again.