Infertility and Having a Baby

I am lucky. I was able to get pregnant with my first child and give birth to a wonderful little human being. I am also lucky to be married to someone with a well-paying job and to be employed at a reasonably-paying job myself. I get to work at something I generally enjoy doing and get to keep that part of my identity. I am able to afford sending my child to daycare (although the working-mom guilt is totally real) and I am able to buy them things that I want to buy them.

And I do.

I try to savor every moment I have with my little one because, even though we have always planned on having more than one kiddo, in the back of my mind I always worry this could be the only experience I ever have with this. I could be experiencing all this sweet little firsts, but on the other side, I am potentially experiencing all these bittersweet little lasts. The last time I have a little one in newborn clothes. The last baby I get to get cute nonsense toys for. The last baby I get to make baby blankets for. The last baby I got to breastfeed. And on, and on.

So I shamelessly buy the cute little clothes for my child, even though they aren't really needed. When I see a cute toy, I'm going to consider buying it. When my little one falls asleep on me, I consider just letting them nap there (but often I don't, because they nap better in their crib). I let the clutter happen, and the chores pile up sometimes, because I want to enjoy being with my kiddo in their tiny years, because I may never get another set of tiny years to experience. I drool over cute cloth diapers and consider getting just another cute style, because I may never have another baby in diapers. I want to experience everything with my child and I am afraid I am going to miss out.

My husband tends to stay looking at the positive. He is certain we will have another baby. But in the darkest corner of my heart, I am afraid. Afraid I am going to let him down, afraid I am going to let my little one down because having a sibling is a wonderful experience. Afraid that I am defective. My infertility haunts me because we have always assumed we would have more children, but in reality, this could be our only baby.