I'm So Glad I'm Done Having Babies

I am so excited I’m done having babies.

I always wanted to be a mother more than anything else in my life. I’ve pursued other dreams and accomplished things I am really proud of, but nothing has made me feel the same sense of purpose as motherhood. I don’t want my job as a mom to be my entire identity, but I am very, very grateful that one of my titles is mom.

I have three beautiful children. My oldest boy is seven, my second son is four, and the baby is just a few months old. When she was born, the doctor also removed my only remaining fallopian tube. When he closed me up after my c-section, he also closed my chapter on baby-making for good.

Holla! Could I be more thrilled?!

I am officially finished making new people, y’all. I never have to take another nine-month hiatus from sushi, caffeine or roller coasters. Of course, I haven’t ridden a roller coaster at all in this millennium, but I could ride one any time I want now for the rest of forever because this womb is closed for business, and that is what matters.

We decided on a permanent solution, so birth control and family planning are a thing of the past. Am I ovulating? WHO CARES?! We aren’t trying to make a baby, and we aren’t trying not to make a baby. It’s all taken care of.

I have all the children I’m ever going to have and It. Is. Glorious.

I don’t usually do well with the emotions of finality. I even worried about it when I was pregnant. “Never” sometimes makes me anxious and sad.

Not this time, my friend. Not today.

Babies are amazing, but I am D.O.N.E done.

People kept telling me that I would know in my heart when my family was complete. I don’t usually believe in that kind of thing, but I’ll be damned if those “trust your heart” weirdos weren’t right.

When I look at my daughter, she fully feels like our “caboose.” The end of the baby train.

The Cloyd Family is full.

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I definitely didn’t feel this way before now. When my OB came in to examine me the morning after my second C-section, my first question was, “How long do I have to wait to have another one?”

Apparently, that’s not the question most women ask 24 hours after they’ve been sliced wide open, but I knew for sure that in my ideal world, I’d do the whole thing one more time. It took close to four years to get our last baby into our arms, and there was a mess of heartache along the way, but we finally made it happen.

And now we are so completely and totally done.

I added tubal ligation to my C-section menu before I was even out of my first trimester. My uterus has taken a beating since I started having babies. I’ve had three c-sections and three additional surgeries involving my lady business. Enough is enough.

We are really, truly, 100% finished.

I turned 35 in my last trimester. I am older and more tired than I imagined I would be having my last newborn. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll verify that I utterly adore my baby. But one of the very best things about her is that she’s the last one.

I thought I might be sad, and TBH, there’s a little bittersweetness here. This feels like the end of one adventure and the beginning of another. Sometimes I get a twinge of the same feeling I got when I closed the door on our first little home the day that we sold it. It’s not that I didn’t want to move forward to our new, bigger house that made more sense for our family. I just knew I was closing the door on a place that I loved in order to move onto a place I would love just as much.

We’ve been building a family for a long time. It’s a strange feeling for it to be complete now.

But it’s strange in the best possible way because I never have to be pregnant ever again.

Like ever.

Hallelujah.

Sure, I’ll miss the sweet parts of pregnancy. The wonder of the first test. That sweet fluttery butterfly sensation of feeling the baby move for the first time. The way my husband would lay his head on my cute round belly and talk to his baby. Dreaming about what the baby in my belly might turn out to look like.

There was magic in those moments. I don’t take them for granted.

You know what I won’t miss? Nausea that lingers for months making every meal a bummer. Hemorrhoids that the nurse strangely described as “about the size of two chickpeas.” Hormones that make running out of cranberry juice feel like an emergency situation.

Oh, and being sliced wide open in a freezing cold operating room to get the little human out of my body safely.

I am all set on those “beautiful” pregnancy moments.

I am grateful beyond measure that I got the chance to have all the babies I wanted. PCOS made this dream a nightmare some of the time. I had two miscarriages, a cancer scare (that mercifully turned out totally benign), and an emergency C-section that I still can barely talk about. It wasn’t easy.

But I can be grateful for two things at once, and I’m just glad it’s over, folks.

I’m thankful for the chance to birth these babies, and I’m grateful that I’m done with this part.

I’ve got the whole team assembled, and now we get to move forward together through the rest of this grand adventure. I can’t wait to see who my kids choose to be. They’re already so cool. Growing our family has been a really beautiful journey, but I think the best is yet to come.