When Curtis turned one, everybody told me I'd want another baby soon.  When Curtis turned two, the same people seemed perplexed that I didn't miss holding a newborn.  By the time he turned three, they realized that we might just be a one kid family, and by four, people stopped bringing it up.  It was around the time he turned six that I started struggling with the idea that I would likely only have one child, not because I only wanted one, but because I can't imagine throwing a baby into our mix, especially considering the huge likelihood that child would also have autism.  Until about a year ago, I was content being a one child family, but then I started to doubt that choice.  Perhaps as Curtis grows older and easier to care for, I am forgetting the days of constant work and worry as we tried to keep him from running into traffic or teach him how to speak.  It seems like forever ago we couldn't put a drink on a table because he'd dump it on the floor and we couldn't bring him in a grocery store because he'd run at full speed until he found a shelf he felt like clearing off.  We're moving past the physical difficulties into the emotional ones as he tries to adapt to a socially and emotionally demanding experience at school, so I'm not as exhausted from chasing him all day long.

Part of my baby itch comes from watching our friends have their second and third children.  We were the first in our social circle to have a child, so having just one was the standard of the group.  Since then, everyone has had their first typically developing child who learns to talk and listen and use the potty effortlessly and so they go on to have a second child who develops the same way.  It is very hard on me emotionally to know so much more goes into us considering a second child.  Can I give Curtis what he needs if I have to tend to another child?  If that child is typically developing, will he/she resent the attention they sacrifice because of Curtis' needs?  And what if we have another child on the spectrum who isn't high functioning like Curtis?  Could I live with myself knowing that we took such a huge risk and had a child who was low functioning and never learned to speak or use a fork or use the bathroom?  If we didn't know the risk, it would be one thing, but because we know we are 25% likely to have another boy on the spectrum, we might be fools if we roll the dice on this one.

The other thing I lose sleep over is who will take care of Curtis when we are gone?  I spend countless hours securing a safe and meaningful life for Curtis.  I am constantly checking up at school, making sure he has the right insurance, having meetings and filling out paperwork to keep his in home support going, and teaching him the skills he needs to get by in a very complex and confusing world.  I'm terrified that he will get devoured by the system when we're gone.  So if we could have the guarantee that our future kids would be neurotypical, would it be wrong to have more partly for the purpose of looking out for Curtis?  It is kind of a demented notion in some ways, but so practical in others.

Greg is pretty dead set on keeping our kid count to one, so sometimes I feel like I'm struggling alone, not because he doesn't care or listen, but because he doesn't experience the same emotions as I do regarding this issue.  All I can really do is keep counting our blessings and thinking of all the awesome things we see in Curtis that our friends might not get to see in their kids.  I feel lucky to have celebrated every minute detail of Curtis' development because it all took so much work, but I will always wonder what it is like to not break into tears because your child points to a bird at 3 years old, and to not worry about who will look out for him 50 years from now when I'm gone.  I will always think, "what if we had another and everything turned out ok" and "what if  we had another and it all went horribly wrong?"  These are questions I will likely never know the answers to, so we'll keep truckin' and making the best of our life as a family of three.  And I will continue to smother Curtis with love until he inevitably pushes me away sometime around sixth grade.

Laura, Mom