Ever since becoming a mom, I’ve often wondered when I will stop having babies, or how many babies I should have. It’s a complicated topic for me because I don’t really have an answer. The truth is, I am barely surviving day to day with a one-year-old and a three-year-old while being severely sleep deprived. In that state, asking those questions feels almost illogical.

Baby fever is mysterious to anyone who has never experienced it. Yes, it’s a feeling—an inclination or longing to have a baby, regardless of circumstances. Anyone can experience baby fever: men or women, single or married, students, people with successful careers—literally anyone. Even animals have this instinctual desire. We are wired this way because we were created biologically by our Creator to continue life. As Scripture says, “Be fruitful and multiply.”

Personally, I started experiencing baby fever around the age of 30, especially after getting married. It felt natural to want a baby. I didn’t get pregnant until I was 35. When my first baby turned one, I was already longing for another. I just knew I needed to have another child. My prayer was answered, and I became pregnant right away.

What no one really warned me about was how difficult it would be to be pregnant while caring for a toddler. It was probably the hardest season of my life. The first trimester was brutal—I couldn’t sleep, I was constantly nauseous, I barely ate, and I went through a very deep, dark night of the soul. That was when I encountered Jesus, who saved me from New Age deception. I share more about that in my testimony.

Fast forward to now: my second baby is 18 months old, and ever since he stopped breastfeeding three months ago, I’ve been experiencing baby fever again. As I mentioned earlier, this desire feels illogical because I am still very much in survival mode. My baby wakes up multiple times a night, and my poor husband has been helping by letting me sleep in until 10 or 11 a.m. when he can. It’s been exhausting. My baby’s sleep regression hasn’t really stopped since Thanksgiving of last year.

On top of that, my hormones and nervous system feel completely out of balance. I can’t seem to find clarity about what I actually want, aside from this hormonal urge to have another baby. I’ve come to realize that this desire to be pregnant again is purely biological and physical—not necessarily what I want, and definitely not what my nervous system wants.

So yes, baby fever is real, and sometimes it makes no sense. I am turning 40 this year, and I’m fairly certain this is not the season for me to be having more babies. You know that feeling when you sense deep in your bones that you’re just too tired for this? That’s me, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Others may be able to handle it, but I know my limits. I would lose my mind if I went through another year of sleep deprivation and complete physical depletion.

Don’t get me wrong—I love my children deeply. They are the most adorable, beautiful, loving, and sweet little humans I could ever ask for. I am truly blessed and forever grateful to the Lord for entrusting me with such precious souls.

Sometimes I find myself scrolling through old photos of my babies when they were newborns, reminiscing about those tender moments. My tiny baby resting on my chest, falling asleep after being breastfed. The scent of my baby’s forehead. Their tiny hands and feet. The size of their ears, their head—everything. It is the most sacred and magical experience of my life. The newborn smell, their breath—it all feels heavenly. It’s hormonal, biological, spiritual, and deeply human. This attachment is what it’s all about. Baby fever is real, and I miss having my tiny baby on my chest.

Not wanting another baby while still experiencing baby fever can coexist. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. Most of all, I don’t need to answer the question of whether I should have more children right now. My nervous system doesn’t have the capacity to entertain it. For now, I am grateful for the children I have. Perhaps this season is about tending the flock already entrusted to me.

There is nothing wrong with looking back on those tender moments with fondness, longing, and even grief.

For now, I am content with my two little ones.