Parenting
How Do You Know for Sure That You’re Finished Having Kids?
by Laura Jennings
Updated: Dec. 18, 2023
Originally Published: June 4, 2015
During my pregnancy with my son, Lucas, my partner Alex made it clear that he felt two children were sufficient. He was delighted with our family of four. I wasn’t so sure.
After Lucas arrived, on the night of his birth, once everyone had left the hospital, I cradled him close, inhaled his sweet scent, and softly murmured, “You’re not my last baby.” At that moment, I realized I wasn’t ready to stop expanding our family. As Lucas and his older brother Noah grew and played together, it became evident to me that something was still missing. In every family photo, there seemed to be an empty space waiting to be filled.
For as long as I could remember, I had envisioned myself as the mother of four boys. I imagined tall, affectionate sons who would cherish their mom. I didn’t have a clear picture of the husband, but four boys were always part of my dream.
Then came Emma, my unexpected daughter. I was thrown off balance. With two boys already, I had assumed my next child would be another boy. Alex and I debated whether we would be done after Emma, but I still felt uncertain. Perhaps I still needed that fourth child I had always longed for, even if they weren’t all boys.
Adding to the complexity, my pregnancy with Emma was particularly tough. Each subsequent pregnancy seemed to take a greater toll on my body. By the time I learned Emma was a girl, I was nearly convinced that we wouldn’t have any more children. It wasn’t that Emma was a girl; it was the realization that I simply couldn’t endure another pregnancy like hers. My body seemed to be signaling that it had reached its limit.
When Emma was finally placed in my arms, I felt an overwhelming sense of completeness. The missing piece of our family puzzle was this little girl I hadn’t even realized I needed. Three was now our magic number.
Both Alex and I are at peace with our decision. We have full confidence in it. Yet…
Last week, we made our final decision official during a brief visit to the doctor’s office for Alex. As the day approached, I experienced a mix of emotions. They weren’t about wanting to be pregnant again or desiring more children; I felt good about not being pregnant again and embracing our life as a family of five.
However, I sensed a subtle shift.
While shopping for groceries with Emma, I bumped into an old high school friend. She congratulated me on Emma and remarked how adorable she was, having seen her pictures online. I love when people take the time to compliment my children, and I felt warm and happy.
As we wandered through the baby aisle looking for diapers, I reflected on my friend’s kids—all older than Noah, who is turning 6 soon. Many from my graduating class have children who are significantly older, with one friend even having a son getting married.
With Emma nestled against me, I inhaled her baby scent and suddenly felt… old.
For the first time, I truly felt the weight of time.
Milestones like birthdays have never bothered me before; they’ve always felt like just numbers. When I married at 28, I felt youthful and excited. I was a bride! When Noah arrived at 31, I didn’t feel like I was having my first child in my 30s; I felt like a new mom with a delightful little one.
But now, everything has changed.
I’m no longer a newlywed; we’re celebrating a decade together next month. I’m not a new mom; Emma is my third child. The childbearing years are officially behind me, as Alex has taken steps to ensure that.
We are now transitioning into a new phase of life. Alex likes to use sports analogies for our family planning—previously, we were either practicing or going for it. Now, he describes our status as being in an alumni league where the score doesn’t matter anymore.
This shift is harder for me than I anticipated—not because I long for more children, but because the baby years have come to an end.
Yet, we are also on the brink of something wonderful: the years of growing up. These are the moments that will create lasting memories for our family. As I look back on my childhood, it’s the years after my youngest sibling was born that I remember most fondly.
We are now embarking on those years that will shape my children’s childhood memories.
Still, I mourn the end of my youthful childbearing days—the thrill of the unknown of who would join our family next.
But now, we are complete, and we’re ready to start this new chapter.
For more insights on family planning and fertility options, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination at Science Daily, or explore fertility tips at Make a Mom. If you’re considering taking the next step in your family planning journey, you might find useful information in this post about home insemination.
Summary:
Deciding when you’re done having children is a deeply personal journey that can be influenced by various factors, including emotional readiness and physical well-being. After experiencing the joys and challenges of motherhood, many parents find themselves reflecting on their family dynamics and future possibilities. Ultimately, embracing the next chapter—whether it involves memories or milestones—can be the most fulfilling part of this transformative experience.