Procreation is not to be taken lightly, especially if you are an introvert with an introverted partner. Unless you are very wealthy or have access to extended family to regularly take your child or, heaven forbid, children off your hands.
Hi, there. I’m Shawna. I’m an introvert. I’m married to 
Here we are with my in-laws. Image by JealousyJane.
I hope you’re either laughing or nodding in solidarity.
My partner and I are readers. Only one of our kids, so far, is capable of reading for long, blissfully quiet periods. The other two prefer Minecraft and singing at top volume to inanimate objects. They are both very social and ask for playdates all the time. They are both confident, outgoing and highly intelligent. I can’t wait for them to move out.
If there hadn’t been an explicit order mapped for our lives, I am very sure my partner and I would have been happiest with either one or no kids. Of course, I say this unable to imagine life without the wonder of kids 2 and 3. I would be devastated without them. I love them to pieces. I just really miss quiet.
Nobody told me quiet would disappear. They just asked when I would be getting pregnant.
Nobody told me how mentally taxing keeping multipke schedules for multiple children is. They just asked me when we would conceive again.
And when I showed up bedraggled to any function or errand, I was still asked if I would have more. After all, my kids are so cute.
I can’t disagree. I find them adorable. Except when I need quiet. Which is about 75% of the time. Quiet equals recharging. Usually I can at least do this at night, but Kid 3 has a VERY noisy cold. She is also an active snuggler. As in she pushes us off the bed then cries because we aren’t there to warm her.
What does happen when introverts have children? After the initial energy slump, we grit our teeth and drag ourselves through each day debating the merits of noise cancellation headphones (will our kids realize we don’t want to hear them?) and clinging to the promise of bedtime, after which we will sit near each other quietly for an hour or so before turning in.
That hour? The best part of my day.