I had thought only vaguely about having a child until I met Daniel. He’s a teacher, runs the local football team, helps out at Scouts and is on the Sunday School rota, which makes him sound a bit worthy. But as well as being warm and kind, he’s also funny, clever and extremely attractive. I was bowled over immediately and, luckily, he felt the same way about me. We got married when I was 26, with little discussion about future plans other than buying a new home and spending our lives together, so it was a jolt when he began talking about having a family almost immediately.

The hardest thing was actually admitting to myself that children were not in my plans, followed by the shameful realisation that I didn’t know if I could bear to share Daniel full time. He’s from a vast Irish Catholic family, with five sisters and brothers who themselves went on to have huge families. As the second youngest, Daniel is a favoured uncle – his nieces and nephews dote on him. To make things worse everyone simply assumed that I was desperate to have a family as I’m a paediatrician specialising in neonatology but, while I love my job, I have no illusions about babies and how they change your life.

But Daniel was desperate to have a child and I loved him too much to deny him that, so I suggested that we have a year together before trying to get me pregnant. It was a wonderful year, full of sheer pleasure at living together. When I stopped taking the Pill we both assumed that I’d be pregnant in weeks, which I felt nervous about, but month after month passed. Eventually, we found out that both of us had fertility problems, which we were strangely grateful for as there was no pinpointing of blame. To cut a long story short, after nine years of tests and treatment our son David was born two years ago, the absolute image of Daniel. Every injection, blood test, clinic visit, negative pregnancy test, bout of vomiting and even the piles I got during pregnancy were worth it to see the look on Daniel’s face when he held David for the first time. He’s taken to fatherhood as if it’s what he’s been waiting for all his life; within weeks he’d arranged job-sharing so he could be at home with David three days a week, which suits us both as I wanted to go back to work full time.

My big worry is that we still have four frozen embryos and Daniel wants us to try for another pregnancy. I can’t bear the thought of it. I adore David but I’m thrilled to be back at work, down to my favourite weight and leading my own life again and I simply can’t tell Daniel that. I could see him with three or four children, still able to give them all the time and love he gives David but I can’t see myself being that good a mother. Apart from dreading all the physical and emotional aspects of more IVF sessions, I don’t know if I have that much love and patience.

But I feel like a fraud because Daniel is so grateful to me for going through IVF six times, which he mentions every time he brings up the frozen embryos. To start with I put him off by saying, “Let’s just enjoy David – we waited long enough for him” but I’m 39 now so he’s getting a little more urgent. Deep down I hope that if I can hold off until I’m 40, he might accept that it’s too late, but I feel so dishonest.

It’s too late to own up. Ican’t bear Daniel to think that I deceived him or that I don’t love him and David with all my heart. And I don’t know how to tell him without destroying something between us. If I don’t agree, will Daniel resent me, despite 15 years together? It’s the first time in our relationship that I’ve felt totally on my own, and the loneliness is unbearable.

Do you live with a family secret?

How has it affected your life? Do you still struggle with it? E-mail us at familysecrets@thetimes.co.uk Or write to us at: Family Secrets, times2, 1 Pennington Street, London E98 1TT Anonymity guaranteed

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