You think it’s going to be this super clear cut decision, unless you’re anxious like me and always say “but what if” and think of every possible outcome, positive or negative. I spent months writing pros and cons, and ultimately made a decision with 98% certainty. And it hurt to make, because I know I won’t get that VBAC, I won’t get another gender reveal, I won’t get those kicks in my belly again. And before you say, “well, just have another then” know this:

I love my child more than I could ever put into words. But I don’t always love my title. I don’t always love that being a mom means losing friends, missing out on certain things you want to do, getting the “bad” side of your kid no one else sees, feeling a failure, losing sleep, having to plan everything around your child’s schedule. Some people were BORN to be mom, they dreamed of it from birth. I am not one of those women. I never wanted children. In fact, I was in some ways relieved by my infertility diagnosis at 18. There were parts of me cursing my body for being “broken” but it was nice to know that was a decision I’d never have to make. A roll I’d never have to be in.

They were wrong. And I’m so thankful they were, because my son is amazing. He is so precious and he did make my life better in many very different ways. And my husband wanted a house full of kids, and loved me “knowing” I could never give him that. But we were blessed with a beautiful baby boy (and I was terrified by the idea of having a girl, particularly of passing my endometriosis or PCOS onto her). So thank God we got this little boy!

On the other hand, my natural birth ended in emergency cesarean. I developed horrible PPD and PPA. I lose almost all my friends. I lost myself. I struggle to this day with trying to manage my mood and to be a better mom, to not yell or be irritable with my toddler (who is at a phase of testing EVERY nerve and boundary). I wanted another pregnancy almost as soon as he was cut from my womb. I wanted a home birth. I wanted a PLANNED pregnancy, where people were actually excited and supportive. I wanted to take more maternity pictures and have showers MY way. But I realized, by the time we discussed “being ready” that everything I wanted was selfish. I didn’t want to raise another kid. I didn’t want another toddler phase. I didn’t want half the freetime and half the money I have now (and sure, call me selfish in that but I try and take good care of myself SO I CAN CARE FOR EVERYONE ELSE and everyone needs different things).

I wanted another baby for the pregnancy. Not for the bigger family. And I have learned that I don’t believe I could mentally handle two children. Is that ok? Of course it is, it’s MY family! It’s MY life! I decide what works best for us. And knowing and admitting my limits doesn’t make me weak in my opinion. Does it hurt knowing I won’t have that again? Hell yes. Deeply. But am I relieved knowing I won’t push myself into a mental breakdown, or in such a bad place that I make my family suffer? Yes, I am relieved.

Did you decide you were done? After how many? Why? Financially? Time? Emotions? Hard pregnancies?