Ever since I was a little girl, I have been obsessed with babies. I loved their cute little toes and chubby cheeks. And, as soon as I was old enough, I started babysitting every chance I got. There was something about snuggling, feeding, and holding a chunky baby that warmed my heart. I ached to sing nursery songs to my own child one day, finally using all the days of choir practice in a practical way.
So a few months after I graduated from college, my husband and I knew we wanted to start a family. Being a mom was what I was meant to do; there was no question in my mind. The joy I felt during my first pregnancy gave me the stereotypical “glow” I’d heard about. I loved everything about being pregnant: feeling the baby’s kicks, wearing maternity clothes, and using the pregnancy pillow that took over our bed. But then a second pregnancy took me by surprise. After having two children only two years apart… well, it taught me a few things. Even though I love babies, here’s how I decided not to have more children.
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The difference between my first and second pregnancies
My first pregnancy was a relative breeze. I was active until the day my water broke and was able to breastfeed like a champ. I thought I could handle anything—until I found out I was pregnant only six months postpartum. The shock of being pregnant so soon after having a baby left me feeling guilty that I wouldn’t be able to have enough quality time with my first child.
Later in my second pregnancy, exhaustion took over my life. My body swelled up so much Crocs were the only shoes that fit my feet. Even though my mind wanted more children, my body couldn’t handle it. My high-risk second pregnancy had me in and out of the hospital for most of those nine months. My dream of having three children was no longer a reality.
I had postpartum depression after both babies
I had already been battling anxiety problems since childhood, so adding postpartum depression (PPD) again would be the last thing I needed or wanted to deal with between diaper changes, 3 a.m. feeding cries, and taking care of a third child. PPD was one of the toughest times in my life, and I knew I never wanted to go back to that place after my second child was born.
Editor’s Note: If you, or someone you know, are experiencing postpartum depression, please seek help from your healthcare provider or reach out to a close friend or loved one. If you are having suicidal thoughts, or thoughts of hurting your baby, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline immediately at 1-800-273-TALK.
Our family needed financial balance
Having children is expensive and a financial struggle for many families in the current economy. After my second child, my husband and I saved on daycare costs by having one of us stay home. But if we had another child, we would be struggling. I didn’t want the stress of living paycheck-to-paycheck to rub off on my children.
I had to listen to my body
My second pregnancy had me in the hospital a lot. First, I had to have my gallbladder removed at 21 weeks pregnant. But my final straw was when I went into preterm labor at 31 weeks.
Lying in that hospital bed, crying with an IV that made my body numb from the waist down, I just knew I couldn’t go through this ever again. The fear for my baby in my belly sent me into an anxiety tailspin, and I spent the rest of my pregnancy worried and in pain.
Not only that, but I was also diagnosed with weird disorders while pregnant. At 37 weeks, I found out I had cholestasis of pregnancy (ICP), a liver problem that can be really difficult to diagnose. I started experiencing symptoms at around 20 weeks when my skin became so itchy that I had to walk around with a back scratcher so I could scratch my hands and feet nearly 24/7.
Luckily, once I delivered my son, the problem resolved, but ICP was a really difficult condition to live with. And after having it once, it meant I was 75 percent more likely to have the condition recur if I ever became pregnant again.
I also suffer from chronic illness
For anyone who has been pregnant, you probably remember the pregnancy diet restrictions (oh, how I missed cold-cuts and coffee), but also the list of medications you could and could not take.
As a person with several chronic illnesses, being off my meds for so long was practically debilitating. I knew that I would have to sacrifice my comfort and my body’s health in order to carry another child, and doing that once again was simply not healthy for me.
Birth control wasn’t an option for me
Birth control often worsens some of the conditions I live with, and after multiple failed (and traumatizing) attempts at IUDs—including one that made my endometriosis unbearably painful—I had to call it quits on birth control.
My husband and I knew we would need a more permanent solution to prevent pregnancy. When he eagerly volunteered to get a vasectomy, we had a heart-to-heart talk about all of the pros and cons the procedure would have in our lives. It was honestly easier to have my husband get a vasectomy than to have me struggle with the side effects of birth control and the added pain of more IUD insertions. Now, we both feel a weight off our shoulders, allowing us to be the best possible parents we can be to our two boys.
Having two kids under 2 was… a lot
Being a mom is hard work. But being a mom of more than one child is not for the faint of heart (and not like the babysitting I remembered). No matter how hard I try to make my kids happy, it seems like someone is almost always crying or upset. The baby stage was rough without friends or family close by to help, and I did not want to go through it all alone again while my husband worked long hours and overnight shifts.
Mom guilt is a real thing that makes parents almost always feel like they are not doing enough. But after the rollercoaster ride of complications pregnancy had given me, I knew two kids were our family’s limit. Years later, I know it was the right decision for my family.
Finding joy in other people’s babies
Every family is different. And other parents are more than capable of dealing with high-risk pregnancies and a whole houseful of kids, but I knew I wasn’t.
Despite my endless love for all babies, I knew I would have to satisfy my baby fever by visiting other people’s babies. Luckily, right now, I have an endless list of family members and friends who are pregnant. I’m ready to let the spoiling begin!
Melissa Guida-Richards, Contributing Writer
Melissa is an author, adoptee, and mom of two boys. She has authored two books, Bedtime, The Ultimate Battle and What White Parents Should Know About Transracial Adoption, and runs a podcast, Adoptee Thoughts, in her spare time.
