I have always wanted 3 kids, and I still do.
I have my 2 beautiful boys, 1.5 and 3.
Parenting has tested me in ways that I didn’t anticipate. I’m still reeling at the trauma I’ve had to work through in therapy, how much I’ve had to unlearn and relearn and unpack. The relationships I’ve had to navigate. Even through all this, I still am not the parent I fully want to be.
I am working on it. But I’ve found this incredibly hard. I’ve lost myself along the way and am just starting to find myself in motherhood.
I know that as much as my heart longs for another child, I should not have a third. I know it would push my limits and take away from how I parent my boys.
I’m sad about it. My future dinner table does have 3 kids and all their families. I do think I will regret this when I’m older, and think I should have just gone for it.
But the truth is, I have to survive these years. I still have to raise my children to get to that dinner table. My husband works an awful lot and I spend 6 days a week solo parenting. Our families live abroad.
There will be school, daycare etc, but to me that doesn’t change that I am responsible for 3 littles, for their mornings and all nights, for their days off, for their everything. That is just a ‘break’.
To me, just having my 2 is the safe option. No dice rolling involved. I know that it will get ‘easier’ if I wait for a bigger age gap, but I will still be thrown back into the postpartum stage, which has always been incredibly tough for me.
I wish I could do it. I truly do. I recognise I’m fortunate to be able to have these thoughts. At the same time, I’m grieving the family I thought I’d have. Grieving the mom I thought I’d be.
It’s just hard.
I have my 2 beautiful boys, 1.5 and 3.
Parenting has tested me in ways that I didn’t anticipate. I’m still reeling at the trauma I’ve had to work through in therapy, how much I’ve had to unlearn and relearn and unpack. The relationships I’ve had to navigate. Even through all this, I still am not the parent I fully want to be.
I am working on it. But I’ve found this incredibly hard. I’ve lost myself along the way and am just starting to find myself in motherhood.
I know that as much as my heart longs for another child, I should not have a third. I know it would push my limits and take away from how I parent my boys.
I’m sad about it. My future dinner table does have 3 kids and all their families. I do think I will regret this when I’m older, and think I should have just gone for it.
But the truth is, I have to survive these years. I still have to raise my children to get to that dinner table. My husband works an awful lot and I spend 6 days a week solo parenting. Our families live abroad.
There will be school, daycare etc, but to me that doesn’t change that I am responsible for 3 littles, for their mornings and all nights, for their days off, for their everything. That is just a ‘break’.
To me, just having my 2 is the safe option. No dice rolling involved. I know that it will get ‘easier’ if I wait for a bigger age gap, but I will still be thrown back into the postpartum stage, which has always been incredibly tough for me.
I wish I could do it. I truly do. I recognise I’m fortunate to be able to have these thoughts. At the same time, I’m grieving the family I thought I’d have. Grieving the mom I thought I’d be.
It’s just hard.