I thought I wanted a second baby

I’ve written before about the fact that my husband and I have always been on the ‘one and done’ side of the fence when it comes to our family. I also wrote about how we thought having one child only was our decision, something we’d have chosen anyway, a lifestyle choice. But as more time passed, and as we began to understand our child better, we realised that wasn’t quite true. The situation had dictated the decision. It felt as though the choice had been made for us, or taken away from us, and we had to convince ourselves that having just the one was what we wanted.

In reality, it was less about what we’d imagined for our life, and more about what we could cope with. Paying attention to the latter felt, and still feels, like the responsible thing to do. Would a second child take our already stretched capacity and obliterate it? Would it be fair to our son, whose needs are extremely high, though often invisible? Given the intensity of our days and the challenges ahead of us, it felt like a no-brainer. Logistically, emotionally, practically, we could not do this.

Then something neither of us expected happened.