What's more frustating about being on the fence about having a baby?

I’ll tell you. It’s being on the fence about having another one.

If you’d asked me ten or even six months ago whether I wanted to have another baby, the answer would have left my mouth before you’d even finished your question.

NO.

I wasn’t even 100 per cent sure I wanted the first one, so why on earth would I go through it again?

But now, at 16 months postpartum, my life is thankfully looking very different to the foggy newborn days of eat-sleep(deprived)-repeat. In fact, I barely remember them. Was I even there? I honestly can’t be sure. Yes, we still have the occasional rough night (thank you molars). But on the whole, girlfriend sleeps through from about 7.30pm bedtime all the way to her fanatical screams “goodmorning” at 5.30am (I like to fool myself into thinking that she is just excited to see me). Even our days together aren’t about pure survival anymore (how many feeds will she vomit up? Will today be the day she actually naps in the pram? Who will cry more, me or the baby? You get the gist). Yes our days are beyond exhausting (turns out that toddler tired is a whole new level of tired) but there is so much joy and magic in watching this little person that you created connect with the world around them.

So, over the past couple of months my previously firm no seems to have been replaced with a tormenting, driving-you-crazy tentative.

Should we have another baby? I’ve gone round and round in circles over this question countless times, joining Facebook groups, trawling through Reddit threads, voice noting my friends, that at this point I’d be relieved to just toss a coin and leave it up to a chance. But do I actually want another baby?

No, and that I can say with conviction. I don’t have a burning desire to conceive, to feel my belly swell again, to hold the warm, wriggly body of another child I’ve birthed. I’ve never defined family by the number of children. I’ve never longed for two children. I feel content and complete in our family of three (six if you count the furry ones). For me, the positives of being an only child family completely outweigh the negatives.

We can give our daughter all of our love, all of our spare time, all of our money etc.

We can tag-team throughout the weekends and school holidays so still have time for hobbies and what remains of our social lives.

With one child, my husband and I might actually get a childfree night away together (at some point…) No chance with two.

I can prioritise my marriage (my husband doesn’t want another baby and let’s be honest, babies put a strain on marriages even when it is a mutual decision)

Sick days are manageable with one but would be a complete clusterfuck with two.

Never again having to experience HG during pregnancy and PPA and PPD during the early months.

So why the lingering doubt?

Here’s something I didn’t properly register when I fell pregnant. My life is not just about me anymore. I chose to bring this gorgeous little human into this world. So it is my responsibility to give her everything she needs to thrive within it.

Is that a sibling? Perhaps. Perhaps not. There must be a reason that the world (or at least, our little corner of it) is full of multiple child families. Personally, though, I can’t answer that question without the benefit of hindsight. Yes we could roll the dice and have another baby, but there is no guarantee that would benefit her life like my sister has mine. Yes we could roll the dice and have another baby, but what kind of mother will I be? (Spoiler alert: more sleep-deprived, more exhausted, more anxious, poor…)

I am also plagued by another thought - the curse of being a motherless mother. Everyday, I live with the fear that like my mother, I too might die prematurely. So knowing the impact her death had (has) on my life, knowing how much I depended (still depend) on my sister when the grief is too much to bear, how can I leave my daughter to face that alone?

So the contemplation continues…

But if I’m honest, whatever I decide, or whatever decision is made for me, I think I’ll always be on the fence about having another baby. And I guess that’s okay.