Walking Backwards

Going in reverse of what I usually do, I am going to post a message I wrote on one of my message boards. I think its the rain, but I have gotten quite withdrawn and contemplative:

Nicholas is my only child. Before he was even born, I swore up and
down to anyone who suggested otherwise that Nico was always going to
be the one and only fruit of my womb. Now, it seems, I am having
stabs of guilt and of desire at the idea of having another little
one. Nicholas was an unexpected surprise, coming years earlier than
we had planned and during a time where I was unable to fully enjoy my
pregnancy. I had always envisioned the joy of our friends and
family, the self-awareness, the giddy anticipation and preparation.
While none of these things happened the way that they should have,
the pleasure of having Nicholas overrode any negativity forced upon
me by anyone else. I also came to realize that the idealized version
I had of pregnancy was just a fantasy of someone who didn't know any
better. After he was born, we suffered with Nicholas as we worked
through his milk protein allergy, his soy allergy, his sensitivity to
certain stimuli. Now, he is a typical "high-needs" toddler. He
tantrums and screams. He goes days without eating in protest. He
knows his colors and letters and loves to yell out shapes. He laughs
whenever he hears someone else laughing. He looks like he is only
eighteen months, when he just turned two last month and he can't
behave in any social situation (even in classes for children his
age). He is a joy and a testament to my patience, as all children
are I suppose. Now, my husband and I have been feeling increasing
pressure to have more children. I am able to block out other's
suggestions, to come back with some sarcastic retort, but I am having
a more difficult time blocking out my own inner voice. Am I being
selfish to want to proceed with my own life goals instead of pushing
my desires aside for another few years? Am I a terrible person for
leaving my son alone with no sibling, a situation I would have hated
to suffer through myself? Am I afraid that my second pregnancy would
be as hard as the first, with illness, work, pre-term labor, and then
a very post-term delivery? Is my secret desire to have another child
just an attempt to rectify my difficult beginnings with the last? Do
I have the energy to pour so much of myself into another person, when
it seems I am giving all I have now? So what I'm asking, in a very
long winded fashion, is how someone takes the step to having more
children. How do you quiet the internal dialog long enough to figure
out what you really want and what is the best decision to make? If
you do decide not to have any more children, will it always be in the
back of your mind, accompanied by the "what if" of what life would be
like if you had only had one?

Jamie