I find myself in a place where hearing about new pregnancies causes me genuine pain. The sight of newborns on my social media feeds—those tiny, squishy beings gazing out at a world that feels so new—only adds to my heartache. I scroll past bump photos and baby shower invites, pretending they don’t exist. The sight of pregnant women in town fills me with envy; I want to pull them aside and say, “You don’t know how special this time is. Cherish every moment.”
Sadly, we can’t have another child since our youngest is now 3 years old.
There are reasons—valid, medical reasons—why our biological family is complete. I remember telling my partner, Jake, as I settled our youngest into bed for the first time: “Promise me this isn’t the last one.” He agreed, yet here we are, feeling done with a family that never felt finished to me.
I adore my older kids. My 7-year-old, Emily, is reading and exploring history, while my 5-year-old, Noah, is a cheerful spirit who bonds with both his brothers and still seeks nighttime cuddles. Then there’s my 3-year-old, Oliver, my little one who insists he’s still “tiny” and loves nothing more than Play-Doh—and nursing to sleep. There’s no sibling to nudge him away, after all.
I love their unique personalities and the joy they bring to my life. Now, we can leave them with ease for date nights or events, enjoying the freedom that comes with having older kids. I can drive for hours without worrying about tears.
This newfound freedom is enjoyable but pales in comparison to the sweet scent of a baby’s neck. When my kids were little, we could take them anywhere, wrapped close to us. I find myself missing the inconveniences of infancy—the nursing sessions on the couch that pulled me away from reality, the cute cloth diapers I once adored, and the dusty stacks of baby carriers waiting for a child who may never come. Sure, I sometimes carry Oliver, but it’s not the same.
I feel anger at times when I hear of someone expecting another child. Why them and not me? It frustrates me that we’ve reached this point, that our decision—though the right one for us—leaves me feeling incomplete. I can’t help but think I’d treasure that baby more than others might. Deep down, I wish my longing alone should be enough to bring me another child.
I know that expressing these feelings may ruffle some feathers or invite judgment, but it’s not that I think I’m the only person capable of caring for a child. Many mothers share this desire, yet when faced with unfulfilled dreams, our thoughts can spiral.
You envision your ideal family; some imagine two kids, a boy and a girl, while others settle on three or just one. My dream was always to have five or six children. Jake and I envisioned a bustling household full of laughter and chaos. Now, that dream feels shattered, leaving me with a lingering sense of sadness about what could have been.
We’ve chosen to explore adoption as a pathway to grow our family. Yet, it doesn’t offer the same certainty as carrying a child. The adoption process feels daunting, with paperwork that requires proof of our family’s financial stability, medical evaluations, and even our dog’s vaccination records. Each answer feels like a test where there are no guarantees we’ll succeed.
Perhaps we will be blessed with another child someday, but until the nursery is filled, I carry this ache—the longing that intensifies each time I see pregnancy announcements or baby photos. Some may tell me to appreciate the boys I already have (and I do), or quote the Rolling Stones about not always getting what we want. But those reassurances often diminish my feelings. No one can dictate what my family should look like but me, and in my heart, I believe we should have at least one more baby.
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In summary, the desire for another child can create profound feelings of longing, especially when faced with medical limitations. While the journey of parenting older children brings its own joys, the dream of expanding the family remains a poignant ache. Exploring adoption offers a glimmer of hope, yet it comes with uncertainties that can be difficult to navigate.