Seasons of Motherhood

I’m in that season of motherhood again when friends are announcing pregnancies, growing their families, or dreaming out loud about baby number three. And while I’m genuinely happy for them, I don’t feel the same pull.

I’ve experienced the ups and downs of pregnancy, C-sections, sleepless nights, and the whirlwind of toddlerhood. I have two incredible boys and I’m so proud to be their mom. The kind of proud that fills up your entire chest. I love the energy, the laughs, the hugs that knock you over. I love raising boys who are sensitive, wild, loud, and loving. I feel like my heart is full.

There are moments I ask myself, “Should I want more?”, but then I hear them call me mommy, see the way they love so big and live so loud, and I remember, this is it. This is the life I dreamed of. Two boys, a full heart, and a season I want to soak in, not rush through. It’s not about what I’m missing, it’s about what I already have.

Dealing with the “What Ifs”

Sometimes that quiet voice creeps in and I wonder if I’m shortchanging my kids by not giving them another sibling. I think about the “what ifs” like, “What if I had a daughter?” and “What if we just went for one more?”

It’s not because I don’t love motherhood, it’s because I’ve learned that loving motherhood also means being honest about my capacity. I know what it took to get here. I know how long it’s taken to feel like me again after my second baby. I know that if I pushed for more, it might stretch me to a place I don’t want to go physically, mentally, emotionally, and even in my relationships.

I also know how easy it is to fall into the trap of comparison. On social media, everyone makes it look effortless, like expanding a family is just the next natural step. But we don’t often see the behind-the-scenes, the strain, the exhaustion, the silent struggles. I try to remind myself that just because something looks right for someone else doesn’t mean it’s right for me.

Grateful for What I Have

That doesn’t mean the decision comes without guilt or doubt. I think about the families still waiting, the moms navigating infertility or loss, the people who would give anything for what I have. That awareness is always with me. And it makes me even more grateful. It’s part of why this decision feels so tender. It is not made lightly.

But ultimately, this isn’t a story about limitation, it’s a story about listening. About tuning in to my own life and realizing that more doesn’t always mean better. Sometimes it means knowing when to pause and appreciate what’s right in front of you.

Two Kids is Enough

For me, that’s two boys who call me “Mom,” two kids who fill the house with noise and joy and endless snack requests. I want to be fully present for them. I want to show up with energy and love and patience, and I know that, for me, that means staying a family of four.

Maybe I’ll always feel a small flicker of curiosity about what “more” might have looked like. But I also know that I have enough. Not in the “settling” sense, but in the deep, soul-satisfying way that tells me this life, these kids, this family, it’s complete.

Two kids is enough. My heart is full. And this season we’re in? It’s more than enough.

For another story on finding yourself in Motherhood, read, “Drowning Beneath the Surface: A Story of Overcoming PPD“.