Long before I met the husband, I had a clear idea of what I wanted in life.  A house of my own, my own transportation, a great career, and two kids. It was that simple. I wanted a simple life.  Nothing fancy. Nothing extravagant.  And its still a work in progress at 31, but I’m almost there.

I envisioned myself in love with the same man until our faces wrinkle and all our teeth fall out, with two kids and a handful of grandchildren.

Then came the day when we discussed when we’re going to have the next kid.  I told the husband I wanted a boy na sana. We’ll name him Austin John, after his favorite wrestler. Then he reminded me of the conversation we had with the OB a few weeks after I gave birth.

The OB told us that ours was a very close call.  Elise came out almost blue from lack of oxygen from my pre-eclamptic pregnancy and that her umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. And me? The hypertension turned from gestational to chronic. So now, I’m on maintenance meds.

She also told us that there’s no assurance as to how the next pregnancy will be.  It may be easier but it may also turn out worse.  It is really up to us if we wanted to take the risk.

My husband couldn’t stand the thought of losing me nor the next baby because of complications. So with a heavy heart, we’ve now decided that Elise will be an only child.

I guess that’s okay. Elise alone is a heaven-full of blessing for us. She’s smart, funny, cute and most of all healthy. No one would have an inkling that she could fit in a shoebox when she came into the world, battling for survival with all those tubes sticking out from her.

And for me, I have to keep myself healthy and well for both of them. I think I’ll just settle on borrowing babies and baby sitting nephews and nieces from now on.

So until there’s a change in our family economics or that there’s an amazing medical breakthrough which will assure that I’ll be okay after a very difficult pregnancy, it’ll just be 1 kid for us.