She’s Your Only One?

“She’s your only one?”
“You didn’t want anymore kids?”
I never know what to respond to those questions.
We both wanted a large family–we both grew up with siblings.  I’d always imagined a loud, rambunctious, crazy household full of babies.

But how do you say that you were afraid to have another baby?
How do you say that you were terrified that you wouldn’t be able to have a healthy baby?
How do you explain you still blame yourself for your daughter’s medical issues–and there’s no way you would roll that dice again?
How do you put into words that you might not be strong enough to run that risk?
How do you say that you still have fits of grief?

That you mourn for the life you thought you “should” have had?  That you’d always hoped for a sibling for her? That you’d always wanted a bunch of babies? A loud full of life home?

One miracle is enough for me…..

You don’t.
You smile.
And count your lucky stars that you were chosen to be this miracle baby’s mama.
And that she’s healthy.
And thriving.
And the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
A pint-sized sarcastic version of yourself with a heart of gold who’s going to change the world.

And you slowly become ok with the fact that you had one baby.
And you acknowledge the fact that you won’t get woken up by baby cries again, wash tiny little baby clothes, or rock anyone to sleep anymore.

You learn to bloom in the garden you were planted in.

You learn to cherish your triumphs and milestones.

And you tell the person….
One miracle is enough for me.