Before I was pregnant with my daughter, I would periodically lie in bed at night wide awake, unable to turn off the anxious thoughts rolling through my head about becoming a mom. It was something I always wanted, and yet as this vague notion of motherhood became closer to being a reality, it made me nervous. I felt anxious about being pregnant, giving birth, and having a little person who would be my responsibility for at least the next 18 years.

Basically, it was a fear of the unknown.

Thankfully, the moment I saw those lines on the pregnancy test, all those anxieties magically subsided. I knew that being a mom would not be easy, but at that moment I was ready for it.

And truly, I love being a mom. I genuinely look forward to seeing my daughter’s smiling face when she wakes up in the morning, snuggling with her and showering her with kisses, going on little adventures together, talking to her, and watching her grow and change each day. It’s not all lollipops and rainbows, but I love being a mom to my daughter.

And yet, I find myself feeling anxious again.

Despite having a relatively easy pregnancy and labor, and a relatively easy infant who turned into a relatively easy toddler (none of which, by the way, I take for granted), up until recently I have not felt ready to have a second child.

Initially, it was because I couldn’t fathom having my body not being my own again for another two years. After being pregnant for most of 2013 and nursing for most of 2014, I dubbed 2015 as the year my body was MY body. I didn’t want anyone else growing inside of it or feeding off of it.

As we entered 2016, I finally felt ready mentally to consider trying for baby number two.

But as soon as I started thinking about it more seriously, I found myself feeling anxious again.

Unlike the first time, it wasn’t a fear of the unknown. While I realize that each pregnancy, labor, and child is different, I at least had a sense of what to expect. This time, those anxieties were less about fear and rather of a sadder nature.

Every time I thought seriously about having a second child, I found myself choking back tears.

For nearly three years, my daughter has been my only child. As a work-at-home mom, I spend more time with her than with anyone else. While we drive each other crazy sometimes, I value our time together and that special bond we have with each other. And I fear losing that special relationship we have if and when we introduce a second into our family.

This intense sadness over the idea of my daughter potentially no longer being my only child has taken me completely by surprise.

I have heard others talk about similar feelings, I just didn’t expect that for myself. And perhaps, more than the physical aspects of being pregnant, this is what has been holding me back from thinking seriously about having a second child.

Much like my first pregnancy, these feelings may very well subside the moment I find out I’m pregnant again. I’m slowly learning to accept the changes in family dynamics that are bound to come and to recognize that though I won’t have as much one-on-one time with my daughter if and when we have another child, we will still always have a special bond.

No matter how old she is, or how many siblings since has, she will always be my baby.

Have you found yourself experiencing similar feelings when contemplating having a second — or third, or fourth — child?