Dear Prudence,
Our first kid was an “oops” and wasn’t planned. My husband always said he wanted at least two kids. But with jobs, travel, and constant moves, I wasn’t ready to have another so shortly after the first one. I wanted to wait at least two years. Out of two years, it became three, then four.
When we started to try to have a second baby after about five years, my doctor referred me to a specialist, as we had been trying for a year without a pregnancy. After two years of medicated cycles and several IVF attempts, COVID came around the corner, and for me, that was the point to stop. I couldn’t take the constant injections and hormone changes, and I was getting to an age where my eggs weren’t good anymore. We kind of just stopped talking about it, and I noticed that I was happy with one and couldn’t imagine going through the whole baby phase without losing myself.
But every time I say something about friends having kids or our son mentions other kids with siblings, my husband shuts down and gives me this look of disgust or disappointment. I am the one that waited too long, I am the one who couldn’t get pregnant naturally, I am the one that cost us $40,000 of injections … Yes, I feel guilty for waiting, not knowing that my body would betray me like that, but I am trying to be at peace with this decision. But every time something (anything) sibling-related comes up, he can’t stand me. When will this stop?
—Sadly One and Done