Why I Wont Have Another Child

I’ve made peace with it.

I won’t have another child.

Not because I don’t want one.
Not because I wouldn’t love them.
But because I know what it costs me to parent the way I do.
And I will not offer a diluted version of myself to anyone — especially not a child.

What I give to my son is already everything I have.
And often more than that.
There are days I break down.
There are moments I shout and then feel sick with shame.
There’s a kind of grief that comes from wanting to give so much — and being so limited.

But I show up. I recover. I repair. I love him more deeply than I thought I could love anything.
And that’s the point.
I’m choosing to love him well instead of loving more with less.

It’s not fair on me.
It’s not fair on a future child.
And I’ve come to realise that making this decision is not failure — it’s protection.
It’s the result of knowing myself.
Of knowing my limits.
And finally, of trusting that love isn’t about how much I can hold.
It’s about what I’m willing to protect.

Including myself.