Love’s Limits: Saying Goodbye to Having More Children

The plan was always to have two children, but after I had my two beautiful babies, I couldn’t help but dream of having just one more.

Although we couldn’t know whether it would be a boy or a girl, in my gut and dreams, I saw a baby boy.

We decided if he did come we would name him Philip.

We often talked about him as a possibility, a “maybe” for the future, if circumstances allowed.

During moments when life felt more manageable and under control, the idea seemed possible. If we could earn a little more. If we could find a better place to live.

However, as time flew by, life presented its ups and downs, making it harder to pursue that dream.

Motherhood is and always will be beautiful. I adore my children more than anything, but it’s undeniably challenging.

At least for me.

It’s all consuming, in almost every way.

My entire world revolves around my children. I know that I shouldn’t say that. I should rave about the importance of self-care, right? I do try in small ways, but I suppose I’ve always been a bit messy.

I simply underestimated the all-encompassing nature of motherhood.

Do I believe I could go through it all again from the beginning?

Yes.

Do I truly want to?

I’m not entirely sure.

Admitting this makes me feel guilty, as if I’m betraying someone who could have existed.

The power to create life or choose not to feels strangely nearly omnipotent.

The truth is, the desire for “a little more” never seems to be satisfied. And just when we experience fleeting moments of stability and contentment, something always seems to arise.

The timing never seems to align. Life is already too chaotic as it is. Too many diagnosis, too much going on in the world.

But occasionally, late at night, I find myself missing Philip.

I had envisioned holding one more baby, and I had imagined the bond he would share with my other children.

I am grateful for the life I have, but the longing for more is universal.

And it’s not about having nicer or bigger things. It’s about love.

About how much love I have to offer. How much of me I have to give.

I feel selfish and overly reasonable all at the same time.

As I write these words, I acknowledge that a door has closed, and my heart aches because of it.

Things may change but for now my wonderful and complicated family is complete.

So I bid farewell to the little boy I once dreamed of.

We would have called him Lip.