Growing up, I was never the girl who thought she would be the traditional “get married, get a kid-friendly job, have kids” type. My first dozen years were spent in a fairly traditional family environment in Russia, where that was pretty much exactly what women did, and had I stayed in Russia, I probably would have ended up on that track. But my subsequent and most formative years were spent in the US, where women could be anything they wanted and having kids was an option, not a given.

When I met Mr. Carrot, I met someone who shared my love for travel and exploration, and living in a major metropolitan area, we had plenty of adventure to pick from. With enough planning and saving, we managed to take some amazing overseas vacations, and our jobs were demanding and engaging enough that we generally felt like our lives were pretty complete. We bought a condo right outside our city, we formed a circle of friends that gave us plenty of weekend plans to consider, and we fell into a comfortable rhythm of being our own people and a young professional couple enjoying the kid-free life.

Mr. Carrot always wanted to have kids, but let me set the pace on that question. And for a long time, the answer was “no.” Not “not right now” or “I’m not ready yet”  – it was a solid “no.” As much as I loved kids, I didn’t feel any twinges to have my own. I could come up with a litany of reasons why I didn’t think we were ready logistically, but I was also always rational enough to know that you never really can be ready. My deciding factor wasn’t readiness, it was my own instinct – I just didn’t feel like kids were something I wanted to do. A lot of people rolled their eyes when this subject would come up – “you’ll get there eventually” and “insert name of commonly uttered phrase about having kids here.”

ADVERTISEMENT

I very clearly remember an argument with my mom and a family friend when I told them that kids weren’t something I wanted – after a lot of eye rolling and my attempting to defend my position of “why do it if it doesn’t feel right,” I was told I was a disappointment. Thankfully my mom thought better of her comments, and came around to realizing that in the end, she raised a very headstrong daughter who won’t do anything that didn’t feel right, and if my gut said no, then it wasn’t going to happen.

I never quite understood the “you’ll know when you’re ready” statement I got on a regular basis, but that’s exactly what happened to me. Quite literally, I woke up one day and said to Mr. Carrot “I think I’m ready for kids.” I’ve thought a lot about this turnaround over the past few years, and I realize in hindsight that I did have a bit of a readiness issue. My career was unsettled for a long time – I switched fields after becoming very disillusioned with the world of politics and public policy, I couldn’t quite find my niche, and my turnaround on the kid issue happened shortly after I got into my current job and finally felt like I found the right path to be on. But for the most part, it really was just a gut feeling. Crying kids at Target on a Sunday morning stopped bothering me. The idea of being up all night didn’t phase me anymore. Something definitely shifted, and after a long TTC journey, Baby Carrot showed up.

It’s because my turnaround on having kids was so instantaneous that I can’t completely rule out the possibility of having a second child. I may just the same wake up in a year or two or more and want to have one more. But at this point, if I were to think about having another, the answer is a firm no. I attribute this to a couple things:

1) The transition to parenthood hit me very hard. I had no issues with being up at night or diaper changes or most of the trials that come with a new baby. But going from a world of constant adult interaction, lots of social activity, alone time whenever I wanted it and complete flexibility to losing all of that overnight was a huge hit to my psyche. For my entire maternity leave, I felt almost like I was paralyzed – afraid to go out, constantly trying to figure out what the baby needed, what I was doing right, what I was doing wrong. I had no network of moms around me, and being completely overwhelmed, I didn’t make much effort to create one. I went it alone and we all survived, and I realize that it would be different with a second baby since I would have some experience behind me, but the idea of reliving that stage is still terrifying.

2) I want to find “me” and “us” again. I fully understand that with a kid, you’re never quite going to be the same person you were before you had a kid. I rarely miss the ability to go out to dinner whenever I want. And I’ve adapted to my new supremely early bedtime and significant reduction in must-see-TV to accommodate for the sleep I won’t get in the morning, in order to get up and get the family ready for the day. But in that transition, I’ve put a lot of things, including my marriage, on the back burner. I want to get comfortable with leaving Baby C with a babysitter, with being away for a weekend (both myself and with Mr. Carrot), and with finding a comfortable rhythm that includes all of us as individuals not just baby and her parents. And I realize that this just may not happen with 2 kids – there just may not be enough of me to go around, and if that’s the case, I know I’d rather be a better parent to one kid than a mediocre one to two. As always, I’m going to trust my gut on this one.

I grew up with a sibling, so I definitely think there are great benefits to having one for Baby C, but coming out of this first time parenting experience, I’m learning that the best thing I can offer Baby C is a calm, stable home and parents who aren’t run ragged, which is much of how I’ve felt until just the last few months. If it ends up being that this is where my comfort zone is, we may indeed be “one and done.”