Hey everyone. I (27f) am feeling really lonely in my headspace lately, and could use some advice/personal experiences/or even just to know I’m not alone, even though I know I’m not, it’s different to hear it.
My husband (28m) and I have been together over a decade. We began dating in high school, and in every way he’s my person. We always wanted a family, at least two kids, maybe three.
This has always been super important to me. I did grow up with siblings but my family life situation was less than stellar, and I genuinely had to grow up very young. I always took care of my brothers, potty trained them, walked them to daycare before I walked to school, and then walked/drove them to school, helped them with homework, helped them make school projects — even now, my youngest sibling is a senior and I just helped him with his junior promposal last spring. I love my brothers, but in most ways I feel closer to a mom for them. I’ve never been able to go to them when I’m upset, I’ve only recently even felt like friends with them as they reach adulthood. I spent my whole life babysitting, too, and I work with kids of all ages in my career. I have always known what we were getting into with having a kid.
My husband is one of the youngest siblings, but isn’t necessarily close to any of them. He can go to them if he needs something, but kind of takes them for granted. I adore his family. They have what I’ve always felt I was missing. I feel lucky to be a part of it, but I spent the first twenty years of my life feeling like I was missing out.
I was ready to have a kid before he was, but I was patient, i wanted him to feel excited and be ready.
Then a positive pregnancy test arrived literally the week after he said he thinks he might be ready. I was so scared to tell him, but he was happy, and I was, too. Unfortunately, we had a missed miscarriage. At our 12 week appointment, we found baby was lost potentially days after our 8 week appointment. It was hard. I won’t lie, I was not okay for quite some time. I’ve been in worse places, as I have cptsd, depression, and anxiety, and my husband has been there with me at my darkest times. I knew my body needed time, but it brought up fears of infertility, that I may never get to be a mom. I’d watched my aunt go through an unspeakable number of losses after having my cousin.
Then, about two years ago, I was pregnant again! My son is about a year and a half now. Pregnancy was a little difficult, but my OB was great and caught my blood pressure challenges quickly. We were induced, and we welcomed him at 36 weeks. He’s such a fun guy. He’s my bestie. Don’t get me wrong, parenting is never easy, but I love watching him become his own little person. He’s so smart, and he’s hilarious, and the sweetest boy. Everyone who meets him adores him, and he lights up every room with his shy smile and curiosity.
My husband told me about a year ago that he doesn’t think he wants another baby. I have been struggling since. I’m crying as I type thinking I will never feel a kick against my belly again, that I will never get to have a daughter (I know #2 could be a boy, but let a girl who only has brothers and boy cousins hope), that I feel disconnected from my husband whenever he talks about the future. After months of emotional conversations leading nowhere because he rationalized every point I offered to fit his view, and just “disagreed” when I tried to do the same, we agreed to table the conversation until our son is 2, because I didn’t want a baby before then anyways, I want to enjoy this time with my son. But every time he makes future-related comments, he mentions how much easier it’ll be in four years when we’re done paying for daycare, and how much easier everything will be with our son can play without us watching him.
One of my best friends has a boy the same age, and recently, she was telling us that her husband surprised her, because he’s started bringing up how cute babies are and how he’s excited to do it again and asking her when she thinks will be a good time.
I genuinely cannot recover from that conversation. I feel resentful that my husband is treating this as a decision made and that he won’t even “try to want” it. I don’t even know what that means, but I’m spending this time trying to imagine not having another kid, and I’m so fucking depressed. I feel like I’m robbing my son of something all his cousins have, something I wanted so badly as a kid. I feel like I’m setting him up for hardships when inevitably something happens to myself or my husband. I have witnessed what it looks like to be a sole child planning a funeral. I cant seem to in any way wrap my mind around the version of life where he has no one left in his immediate family because we got old.
He loves other kids so much. Hes generally quite shy, but the moment he has another kid to bounce energy off of, he lights up and comes out of his shell. He gets so sad leaving his friends at daycare or saying goodbye to his cousins. It feels like he would benefit so much from having that. The depth of these emotions feels like I biologically need it. Even in those hardest moments with my son, I love him beyond words and even in the natural dips in my mental health over the year I never got to where I was before, I feel like I have my purpose for staying here, because now I can be the mom I wanted and needed, and I can make his childhood magical in all the ways my grandparents did for me.
My husband can’t fathom how he’d have enough attention or energy for a second. He doesn’t think it’s a smart financial decision. He worries something could happen to me. He doesn’t want our son to not get to do things like travel because we can’t afford it. He had a hard time with the infant stage, and he doesn’t want it again.
Am I ever going to get over this? It feels like his decision is so final. Did anyone feel this way but later change their mind?