I Was Done Having Kids… Until I Wasn’t

For a long time, I was sure I was done.
Done with diapers, bottles, and 2 a.m. wake-ups.
Done with starting over, with all the unknowns, and with carrying the weight of motherhood on my own.

I had one incredible daughter. Smart, strong willed, full of life. I had made peace with the idea that our little duo was all it would ever be. And I was okay with that. More than okay, honestly. I was proud of the life we’d built together. I’d already walked through one chapter of motherhood. I had made the hard choices, survived the heartbreaks, and carved out a new, steady rhythm.

I didn’t think I had space, or energy, to start again.

But then… something shifted.

It wasn’t sudden. There wasn’t a lightning bolt moment. It was quiet. Slow. Gentle.
It looked like healing.
It sounded like laughter in a home that finally felt safe.
It felt like love. Real, rooted, unconditional love with someone who didn’t just see me, but showed up for me. Every single day.

And with that love came a softness I hadn’t felt in a long time. A new kind of safety. A sense that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to do this next part alone.

That’s when the door I had closed so firmly in my heart cracked open just a little. And once it did… it didn’t close again.

Suddenly, “done” didn’t feel so certain.

Of course, there was fear. The kind that wakes you up in the middle of the night asking if you’re crazy for starting over. The kind that whispers old doubts and stirs up the what-ifs. But there was also peace… this deep, quiet knowing that another baby wasn’t just possible… it was meant to be.

So we leaned in.

We embraced the chaos of pregnancy, the backaches, the cravings, the wondering how our lives were about to shift. I watched my daughter transform into a big sister, and I felt my heart stretch in ways I didn’t know it could.

Now, with this sweet new soul in our arms, I look back and smile at how certain I once was that I was “done.” Because what I’ve learned is that sometimes, when life feels settled… it’s actually just making space for more.

And starting over?
It doesn’t mean going backward.
It means growing in a new direction.

I wasn’t done. I was just waiting for him.