Emotions are so very strange – I realized I think I am at a point where I no longer want another child. If I could snap my fingers and magically be pregnant today, I don’t think I would do it.

I’m not sure it would be the best choice for our family. I’m not sure we could afford it. I’m not sure my mental health could take it. I’m not sure it would be the best thing for my son, or for my marriage… I don’t know that I could still have the energy to be the type of mother I want to be…the list could go on.

It’s strange to say, but struggling with infertility has allowed (or forced) me to have the opportunity to evaluate my needs, my family’s needs, and our available resources. And the more I am truly honest with myself about it, the more I am beginning to slowly wonder if having one child may be the best thing for our family…

But I’m still sad about it. Bitter and spiteful about it on my worst days… It still occasionally feels like a gut-punch when yet another friend announces they’re pregnant (which seems to keep happening constantly…)

I’m sad that I’ll never experience being pregnant again. I’m sad that my family won’t look like an idealized version of something I’ve seen on t.v. (even though having more kids wouldn’t have guaranteed that anyway…)

I’m frustrated that it seems like everyone else got to choose exactly the life they wanted and didn’t have to suffer through infertility like my family did (I KNOW this is not a true statement – but it feels like it is sometimes – especially if I hang out on social media for too long…)

There are days when I’m so happy with our sweet little family of three – and I find myself feeling overwhelmingly grateful. And yet there are still days when I’m sobbing about the loss of this hypothetical child I’ll never get to meet.

All that to say, it’s a LOT of feelings. Some of my feelings seem like they are in direct conflict of one another, which is a bit confusing. I’m happy, yet sad… grateful, yet bitter… I’m trying to find space to hold and honor ALL my emotions at once. But it’s exhausting.

The first post I wrote about trying to get pregnant with a second child was back in 2019 – almost 5 years ago. I can’t believe I’ve been thinking about trying to conceive another child for that long. My son was only three years old at the time (*now he’s almost 8!)

At that point I hadn’t yet realized we were dealing with secondary infertility – that would be confirmed in early 2021.

We spent another year and a half vacillating between optimism and despair. It seemed like some treatments would potentially be promising, but then in January of 2023 our journey came to an abrupt end, and it was the beginning of really trying to process that we would probably never have another child.

2023 was a difficult year. I had been so afraid of starting the true process of grieving – I knew it would hurt a lot. And it did. I made the choice to start taking antidepressants again because I was struggling so much with everything.

I’ve done a lot of thinking and processing over the last year and a half through the feelings that have accompanied my infertility journey – and a few realizations recently came to the surface for me. Some of them are embarrassing realizations, but I don’t want to be ashamed of them – my feelings make me human, and it’s okay to admit my humanity. And Brené Brown says it’s good to be vulnerable and not live in shame (and she’s a smart lady!)

One major realization was that I found myself ready to start moving into a place of acceptance – I think I’m finally heading into that final stage of grief – which is wonderful, because it means healing has happened. It’s a very SLOW process, and I definitely have setbacks (aka. look up the term “grief burst”)… But I want to start focusing more on the positives of having an only child. I’ve heard a lot of the negatives, a LOT of the stigmas, but I hadn’t really researched the positives until recently.

Realizations About Myself, Secondary Infertility, and Having an Only Child

1. I was struggling with feelings of loneliness. The average number of children a family has differs depending on where you live in the world. Where I live in Texas, it’s much more common for families to have multiple kids, and I realized that I just truly didn’t know very many one-child families. Now if I lived in a place like New York or Seattle, according to Pew Research, my family of three would look more like the norm. Unfortunately, I have no plans to move to New York or Seattle, or other places where one-child families are becoming more and more common – so it can be pretty easy to feel like the odd one out.

“It can feel isolating if you’re the only one in your friend group who has an only child, especially if you are one and done, not by choice. You might feel left out when your friends discuss sibling relationships or baby/toddler stages (if your child is older). Feeling excluded by your friend group can be rough!”

excerpt from One & Done by Rebecca Greene (2023)

I wish I could say that I was more confident in being “different,” but I realized there is a huge part of me that just wants to fit in. It can be painful to not feel like anyone else shares your experience, or even desires it. And to be honest, I’m really tired of painful feelings.

2. My anxiety about being a “bad mom” was majorly triggered. When my son Calvin was about 3 or 4 years old, the “when are you going to have a baby brother or sister?” questions started. People would actually tell me that Calvin would be lonely as an only child. I began to feel like a bad mom because I couldn’t provide him with a sibling. I have a lot of insecurities and previous struggles regarding being a bad mother, so I’m pretty easily triggered when anyone insinuates that I’m not a good parent. Obviously, this is a personal thing that I need to work through (shout-out to my therapist!), and people’s uninformed comments and opinions do not have to make me feel lesser. But it’s hard to stand tall and proud when you are constantly being bombarded with ignorant comments from friends or family, or even random strangers!

3. I bought into a lot of the unfounded stigmas of only children without actually doing my research. When my husband and I first began talking about having children, having one wasn’t even an option because we didn’t want a “spoiled” child. I hate to admit that I bought into that stereotype so easily, but I did. Having siblings does not guarantee anything about how a child will turn out. I know some super down-to-earth only-child adults, and I know some pretty selfish adults who had siblings.

As far as the stereotype that onlies are lonely, that also does not have to be true. From the time Calvin was very young, he has been around many other kids at daycare, school, and church. I have tried to be more intentional lately to invite friends over to play at our house, and I think that has been a good thing for all of us. Calvin also has a more introverted personality, and honestly does not desire to be around tons of kids all the time. Each kid is different, and their relationship needs also differ.

4. I realized that my personality may be better suited to having an only child. I told a friend the other day that parenting ended up being a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I know some people may scoff at that and think that having “only one child” would be a breeze, but I’m here to tell you it hasn’t been easy. Kids are all different, and each of them have their own unique challenges, mine included.

In order to be as intentional as I want to be as a mom, it takes a lot of my time and energy. I’m not sure I would be able to meet all the needs of my son (whom we are discovering is neurodivergent and has a **vulnerable nervous system) if I had another infant to look after right now. Obviously, I would have done the best I could, but I feel like I have more to give right now with one child – and I’m grateful for that.

I also recognize that I am a low-energy, introverted person. I need a lot of alone time and quiet to recharge. Other people may not need that, and they may be better suited to having more little ones around at the same time – if they want them.

5. I had idealized what my “perfect” family was going to be like, and honestly probably would never have attained it, even if I had eventually had a second child. It’s easy when we’re young to think that we’re going to grow up and have this perfect life. We might assume that we’ll have a happy marriage, and lovely, wonderful, well-behaved children that are life-long best friends… but I know a lot of families for which that is not the case. Many people don’t even speak to their siblings when they are grown due to some sort of falling out. All that to say, it’s easy to desire something you don’t have, and think “I would be happy if I could just have ________.” But the truth is, life is still hard, even if you eventually get that thing you’ve been wanting.

If you want a great example of this in book-form, you should check out the novel The Midnight Library. It is a great book about how getting everything you ever wanted doesn’t always make you happy. There’s no “perfect” life – but we can make the most of the lives we have.

6. There can actually be very compelling reasons to have one child and call it quits. I already mentioned my personality, but I started looking into some of the benefits that come with having an only child. {DISCLAIMER} I’m not trying to say that this is the “best” way or that people who have more kids or no kids are doing anything wrong. It’s a hugely personal decision, and I think each family should think about their individual situation when family planning. Things to consider obviously include finances, stress levels, careers, physical or medical issues, etc.

I grew up in a conservative religious environment, and I hadn’t realized that I had internalized an untrue message that a woman’s “greatest” honor, and perhaps even her primary “purpose,” would be to have children, and then ideally be a stay-at-home mom. [Again, it’s fine if that describes your situation – what’s right for you may be wrong for someone else – you do you.] But I think when we push this “ideal” on every woman, we are guilty of perpetuating harmful stereotypes. Not every woman wants kids, not every woman is able to have kids, not every woman should have kids… There are so many more identities a woman can have besides “mother.”

I decided since it was becoming more and more clear that I was going to be a “one and done” mom, that I wanted to look into some data about the benefits that could come from having an only child. ***An interesting study by Hans-Peter Kohler found that in general, the happiest and most satisfied moms had one child (Greene, 2023). A second child actually seemed to make satisfaction and well-being decrease for the majority of moms (although it did not have this same effect on fathers… go figure.)

****Another study about only children by Dr. Judith Blake showed that many only children had greater success in school and their careers, due to parents/caregivers being able to focus their resources (time, money, attention) all on one kid. Only children receive “at least 50% more active care time than kids in two-child families.” (Sandler, 2013)

Obviously, these are generalizations and are not always going to be true for every only child. It doesn’t mean that families with 2+ children are bad or that these families won’t be able to raise successful kids – but the research findings obviously interest me nonetheless.

7. Saying ‘yes’ to one thing means saying ‘no’ to another – you can’t have it all. I think we trick ourselves into thinking we really can have it all. But no one has it all.

A lot of moms I know ended up quitting their jobs or drastically limiting their hours at work after having a second child. Some of them gave up jobs they really loved.

I know if our family had another child to pay for, we would have to make some major adjustments to our current lifestyle. Our family loves to travel – whether it be on vacation or to visit our family (none of whom live near us) – and if we had another baby, we would definitely be giving that up, at least for a little while.

This may sound like a silly thing, but I love having time to read books again. When my son was younger, I had zero time or energy to read. But in the past few years, I’ve gotten back into reading, and I remembered how much I love books!

I’ve had more time to volunteer in my community lately, and it has been a huge source of joy for me. Most recently, our city just had our 12th annual CALF (Children’s Art and Literacy Festival), and I was able to serve on the CALF committee as well as be a dramatic reader, which was so, so fun! I love that I’m tuning into this side of myself that enjoys performing and theatrics!

All that to say, if I had another child, I might have to give those things up – at least for a while.

I know what some of you will say… “but having kids is so worth it!” And I would respond to that with, “it depends.” I do believe that children can be wonderful and a blessing – but I also am not sure that with every additional child the “blessings” increase. Again, it depends on your situation –your finances, health, personality, support system, and values. I think it’s okay for people to make the choice that having more children (or even one child) is ultimately not worth it for them.

I know some moms that are pretty stressed out right now with taking care of their kids – and I know some moms that are resentful of their spouses because they had to give up their careers to stay home, and their spouses didn’t. I know some empty-nester moms that are now wondering if they made the right choice to give up on their careers and stay at home the past 18+ years…

Personally, I don’t want to be stressed and frazzled all the time, if I can help it. (More accurately, I should say I don’t want to be MORE stressed and frazzled than I already am… because let’s be honest, I am already high-strung enough!) I don’t want to resent my husband. I don’t want to give up my career… or books, or volunteering at the CALF, to be honest. I want to continue to pursue my dreams – and I have some big dreams.

I want my identity to continue to be more than just a mom – because I am more than that. I’m way more. (And so are you, if you are a mom… or a dad… or any type of person – none of us are one-dimensional.)

I do think there are people out there that truly LOVE being a stay-at-home parent, and for them it was definitely the right choice. I know some moms that hated their jobs and missed their kids so much and they were miserable. For them, quitting their job was the right choice.

What bothers me is when we perpetuate this idea that there’s “one right way” or “one best way” to be a parent or a family. That’s when we inadvertently start shaming people because their lives look different than the “norm.”

8. Maybe, in a way, I did get to choose what my life would look like. I am still processing this one, this is a very new idea that has been offered to me by some wise people. I’ll admit, I was offended the first time I heard this suggestion. It didn’t feel like I got to choose, it felt like infertility took away all my freedom to choose what my family would look like. I felt like the victim.

But… and this is hard for me to even write – I am starting to see that I did get to make certain choices along the way, and that maybe I’ve had more agency than I think. I chose not to pursue IVF, for multiple reasons. Our family has chosen not to look into adoption. I do believe these are the right choices for us. And I think it’s okay to know that something was the right choice, and still grieve that choice and be disappointed that more choices weren’t available. I had hoped that a much less-invasive and expensive fertility treatment would have been available for us to try, but it wasn’t.

Am I ready to say that “I’ve chosen” to have an only child… or that everything ended up working out “for the best”…? I don’t know. It feels weird. And it still makes me a little angry, to be honest. However, it does allow me to feel a little more empowered when I view it this way – and I think it’s one more step on the road towards healing.

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Earlier in my post, I referenced some books that dive into the benefits that come with having an only child. If you’re interested in them, or think they’d be helpful, then I’d recommend the following two books:

Both books share data and research related to only children, and they are both written by adults who grew up as only children, and then decided to have “only” one child themselves. Even though I didn’t agree with everything I read in them, I still found them to be very validating. They put into words a lot of the things I’ve been feeling and experiencing. Super helpful if you are the only person in your friend group or community who has an only!

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If you’ve made it this far into this post, thank you for reading ❤

Writing is a huge source of healing for me, and that alone would be reason enough to do it – but I do also love when a reader connects with something that I’ve written. My goal with this blog is just to be super honest about life, but I hope I’ve been able to write this post in a way that was both authentic AND kind. I’m not trying to throw shade at pregnant people, or people with multiple kids. I’m wanting to offer insight into my experience – and ALL the feelings that come with it (good or bad.)

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*I know you can do the math to figure out that 3 + 5 = 8, but I thought I’d write it out anyway
**“vulnerable nervous system” is a term from Robyn Gobbel’s book Raising Kids With Big Baffling Behaviors
*** Greene, Rebecca. One and Done: The Guide to Raising a Happy and Thriving Only Child. 2023.
**** Sandler, Lauren. One and Only: The Freedom of Having an Only Child, and the Joy of Being One. 2013.