In addition to the overwhelming urge for another child never arriving, I'm another one whose own temperament had a lot to dow tih not having any more than one child. I'm a real worrier and I couldn't contemplate the worry that another one would bring me - especially when theyre ill - god, how I hate it! I'd far rather be ill myself. It's not so bad now (DS is rarely ill) but when he was younger it used to really string me out.
I also very much had the feeling that having one child had satisfied my urge for motherhood - I always felt that another would hold no mystery for me. I'd seen and experienced it all with one. I'd done the TTC, I'd been through pregnancy and all the new and exciting things that it entails (changes to your body, scans, appointments, shopping for stuff etc), given birth, done the breastfeeding, weaning, mashed every combination of fruit and vegetable purees and frozen them in ice cube trays, filled out the baby book with all the milestones very comprehensively, gone to new mums group, done water babes/toddlers/song and story time/tumble tots/gym joeys groups, done all the christmases, halloweens, bonfie nights and, birthdys parties, seen him off to pre school and school, been to the first nativity play, sports day, Beavers, Cubs etc. I very much feel that being a mum to one allows you to experience all that parenthood has to offer to the max.
So my urge to be a mother had been completely fulfilled with having just one. I felt I'd been there, done that and got the t-shirt.
Oh and DS is, of course, perfect too and there was very much a feeling that we couldn't possibly improve on him in any case.
Our cup runneths over so to speak