How is it a good thing that I only have one child?
I’ve had a really good week with no major commodes. We’ve had some fun outings, including Miller’s first field trip to an apple orchard, I went on a one-night girls trip, and we’re on a one-night family trip.
As I say, there is nothing major – or really even minor – to report. Not because my life is perfect, but because the minor things don’t bother me like they used to.
For instance, after touring The National Museum of Transportation with Miller, I realized a button on my shirt was undone, giving peek-a-boo views of the girls. This no longer registers as a commode, because I don’t care. (Funny enough, I did discover lingerie tape just around the button. Clearly this has happened before, even though I don’t remember it. Clearly I’m going to need to sew the button hole a bit. If I remember.)
What I marvel at again and again – both this week and for some time now – is how glad I am for having an only child.
Way back when I was in the second grade, I decided I wanted two children: A boy and then a girl. I carried that thought/expectation with me clear into my thirties. I got pregnant with no issue, had Miller, and then? Issues.
In 2016, we learned that I couldn’t have any more children thanks to endometriosis. I was…not in a great place. In the midst of anger and emotion, I decided my body knew something I didn’t. Since it determined I could no longer conceive, I would listen to it. We chose not to seek fertility options, and so, just like that, we would be a family of three.
My mind was okay with it. It was so tired of bracing itself for each month of painful (to say the least) cycles. It could step off the emotional – and hormonal – roller coaster once and for all, and was relieved to be done with the journey.
My heart, on the other hand, was devastated. It’s the first and only time in my life when all of me wasn’t in agreement, and that experience alone was conflicting and confusing.
Ultimately, I told my mind to stop explaining and justifying to my heart why it was okay that I would not have a second child. I told it be quiet for once, and for once, it listened.
When my heart occasionally steps to the foreground, broken and so very sad over having to let go of its longest running desire, the rest of me stops and gives it silence. Not out of indifference, but out of respect. The other parts of me hush so my heart can grieve.
That occurrence happens less now, I think because I get real-life glimpses of what my body knew all those years ago: I was meant to have one. Which leads me back to the turnaround: How is it a good thing?
Firstly, I must acknowledge that it’s freaking fantastic that I have even ONE child; so many wonderful souls don’t get that experience. If that happens to be you, I know what it is to have an unmet desire. To have something that should, by nature, be completely in your control. I understand the anger and devastation in learning that control has been taken from you. I don’t know the depths of your specific hurt…only that it’s very real, very personal, and very painful. I’m so very sorry that this is your pain…your reality.
To have the exact family you want – to have children until your family feels complete – is a true and rare gift.
It’s a gift that was not granted to me, and that’s okay. It’s actually a good thing, because surviving one newborn/infant was so so difficult for me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not a baby mom. Thanks to endo, I don’t have to be a baby mom ever again.
With Miller now in pre-k, I once again have TIME and SPACE all to myself. I like space, and I crave quiet time. With a second child, it would’ve been that many more years before regaining that space. As it is, my space is back. And I love it.
An extra perk to ample me-time is this: When I pick Miller up from school, I’m all his. It’s so much easier to focus on him, play with him, and so on, when my tank is so gloriously full. He gets all of my attention. That wouldn’t be the case if he had a sibling.
From an organizational standpoint, logistics are easier with one. I mentioned Miller’s field trip earlier this week. I chaperoned it, and will chaperone as many as I’d/he’d like from here on, because I only have one. When it comes time for extra-curriculars, I don’t have to worry about being two places once – which do you choose? – because #one.
I stayed the night at Indianapolis to see Maroon 5 in concert. To make it happen, I only had to coordinate care for one child. (Thank you Mom and Mark.)
When Mark’s college roommate invited us to St. Louis for a golf outing, it wasn’t daunting to think of packing for it. No more diapers. Or bottles. Or baby food. Or rock ‘n plays or pack ‘n plays. Just load up the car and go.
It really is a good thing that I have just one child. I no longer say that to convince myself (ahem, my heart) as I did in the beginning. I say it now, because all of me sees its truth.
I love my little family of three. I didn’t get the exact family size I wanted initially, but I have it now. That’s quite an ode to joy. And it’s also?
A really wonderful thing.It really is a good thing that I have just one child. I no longer say that to convince myself as I did in the beginning. I say it now, because all of me sees its truth. Click To Tweet
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