Just one or just one more?

One day the husband of one of my co-workers brought their two kids to the office for a visit. I think this was back when their daughter was still an infant. All I remember was that she was new enough for people to ask how their son enjoyed being a big brother and the discussion eventually evolved into one about why the co-worker and her husband chose to have another child.

The husband said they discussed the pros and cons of having more than one child and ultimately decided it would be too selfish of them to stop at one because they didn’t want to deprive their son of a sibling. What this guy didn’t know was that sitting just a few feet from him was a woman who had decided to have only one child and who was offended by his implication that her decision to do so made her selfish.

Until this guy opened his big mouth, I never once thought Nathan and I might be selfish for limiting the size of our family to three. But for the past year I’ve started to ask why we had to stop at one. How could we have known we were done before Autumn was even a year old? Was this the right decision for us or are we suffering from the same fears that kept us childless for so many years?

For months I’ve been surrounded by women creating life. Earlier this year there were six pregnant women in my office, three of them with their second child, and when you’re in the vicinity of that many women walking around with their cute pregnant bellies and talking about cribs and diapers and onsies you can’t help but be touched by it. Growing a life inside of you is an incredible thing that you will miss if you know it’s something you’ll never do again.

Four years ago when I was pregnant, my best friend Marla was pregnant with her second child. Experiencing a pregnancy with my pregnant best friend was incredibly special and at the time I knew it was something that would most likely never happen again. She gave birth to her son seven weeks before I had Autumn, and while it only took me a year to decide I would not be having another, Marla never really got there. She filled a storage room in her basement with baby clothes and toys and could never say with certainty that they were done. She was very happy with the size of her family, but she wasn’t ready to decide that was all she wanted. At least that was the case until she lost her job earlier this year, leaving the family to survive on one income.

In perhaps one of the most ironic moments of her life, Marla visited her doctor last week to discuss birth control options only to be told she’s pregnant again. She broke the news to us Friday night as we met for dinner and I completely freaked out on her. As a side note, Chuck E. Cheeze is the perfect place to deliver that kind of news because the resulting squeals and surprised congratulations from your friends won’t attract as much attention as they would if, say, you delivered the same news at a more subdued venue like The Olive Garden.

So yes, it was unexpected news to say the least, but I am thrilled for my friend. I took her picture with my camera phone, hoping to commemorate the day she found out she was going to be a mom of three. I think there was a little panic behind her smile, but the good news for her, aside from being blessed with a new baby, is that she now knows without a doubt this child will be their last.

There are families that go on to have more than three children but Marla is sure that she’s done. She’s just as sure as I was when Nathan had his vasectomy and I’ll bet she will eventually mourn that end just as I have these past three years. After this last child, there will be no more milestones, no more transitions to solids, no more first steps, first words and no more potty training. After she’s done with diapers and bibs and high chairs, she’ll be done with them for good. What mother wouldn’t find that a little sad?

I don’t know if I’ll ever have answers to some of my lingering questions or if I’ll ever be completely comfortable with our decision to have only one child. Some days I just want the world to stop because I know we only get to do this once. I want to be Superman and reverse time so I can prevent the catastrophe that is a fleeting childhood. I want to repeat moments I’ll never get to experience again and when I think about only getting one shot at this parenting gig, I do think of the things we chose to give up rather than what’s missing from Autumn’s life. If that makes us selfish so be it, but when I look at my child I see a happy, outgoing girl who, so far, seems content to call a dog her sister.

Tagged as: Family, only children