Tired, Medicated, and Done Procreating

Let me be brutally honest: no, I will not have any more kids. I am one and done, baby.

“But won’t Miles be lonely as an only child?”

I don’t know, Martha, do you want to carry and financially support his sibling? Because unless you’re offering, I’m gonna go ahead and say he’ll be just fine. Also, have you seen the state of the world lately? Let’s start there.

Was it always the plan to have just one kid? If you asked little Sara, she’d tell you she wanted two, back when her idea of parenting was changing her baby doll’s outfit and calling it a day.

Then, real life happened.

Pregnancy? Terrifying. I was naïve as hell. I went into labor at 34 weeks and had a preemie, and let me tell you, nothing prepares you for that. It shook me enough to know I never want to go through it again.

Did I enjoy being pregnant? Yeah, actually. It was a pretty smooth ride… right up until my water broke unexpectedly. That part? Not fun. And while I’m grateful for the experience, that doesn’t mean I’m lining up to do it twice.

So no, one and done wasn’t always the plan. But now? It’s the plan, the backup plan, and the emergency exit strategy.

My sister and I always joke that we nailed it. We gave birth to the perfect boy (me) and the perfect girl (her), and honestly, that’s all we need. Miles sees his cousin as a big sister, and he’s surrounded by older cousins who adore him. My sister-in-law calls Miles and her son “brother cousins,” and it’s pretty spot on. The kid is absolutely wrapped in love. Trust me, lonely is the last thing he is.

So, for everyone who keeps asking when I’m having another, like I’m running a baby factory, there won’t be a next one. My uterus is officially closed for business.

Truth is, motherhood has been a journey and also really freaking hard on my mental health. It’s been one of the biggest challenges of my life. And let me tell you, without therapy and meds? I’d be fully tapped out. Raw-dogging parenting is not something I recommend.

But here’s what I can give Miles: a (mostly) mentally stable mom who can show up for herself and for him. A mom who’s present, who works on herself, and who is committed to giving him a happy, full childhood.

The kid’s already been to Mexico for crying out loud. And I’m so damn grateful I get to give him this life.

So no, there won’t be a baby #2. And honestly, I’m not sorry about it.

I get to give this kid, my one and only, everything I’ve got. My attention. My energy. My resources. My healing. My weird jokes, silly dance moves, and therapy breakthroughs.

He’s not missing out. And neither am I.

Because choosing to stop at one isn’t a loss; it’s a decision rooted in love, boundaries, and knowing what I need to be the best version of me for him and for me.

And if anyone’s got a problem with that? Take it up with my therapist. Or better yet, my four-year-old, he’s got opinions, a lot of feelings, and a crew of 100 stuffed animals backing him up. Good luck.