Dear Prudence,
I am 50 years old, and I am having a terrible time battling memories and decisions from the past.
Through a variety of illnesses, decisions, and secondary infertility, my son, who is now 19, is my only child. Do not get me wrong, I am thrilled to have at least one child when I know there are many women longing for a baby. But the thing is, I wanted a house full of children. I wanted the chaos, the noise, the big family. My husband and I tried for five years after my son and I never got pregnant again.
I know what is said now about only children: They are usually bright, have great imaginations and vocabularies. But that doesn’t erase the memory of my son asking for a sibling or the sight of him sitting at the end of the driveway waiting for someone to come outside so they could play; or the sight of him jumping alone on the trampoline or swimming in the pool by himself.
Prudie, I don’t know how to get over this loss of the future I thought I’d have, even 19 years later. It can bring me to tears in a second. I have panic attacks because I know I’ll never have another child. My greatest fear is that my son is lonely and missing a sibling, as it is such a learning and socialization experience. He works, goes to college, and has a small friend group, but I can’t help but worry about him being devastated by the fact that I’ll never have another child. I do not know how to get past it. I do see a therapist weekly, but please help.
—Heart Half Empty