A pregnancy dominated by extreme morning sickness followed by a traumatic, 100-hour labour and post-natal depression would deter many women from having another baby.

It’s hardly surprising, then, that Gemma Hughes, 32, says she will ‘never go through that again’. Thankfully, she and her partner Paul, 35, an accountant, are in agreement that their family is complete with their son Alfie, now four.

The problem, however, is that others vociferously disagree, to the extent that Gemma feels intense pressure ‘from all corners’ to go through it again.

‘I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been asked: “When are you having another?” ’ says the nursing assistant from Manchester. ‘My mother and mother-in-law keep saying my life would be “complete” if I had a little girl. Even my sister says it’s cruel not to give Alfie a sibling.’

Such is society’s difficulty in accepting the one-child family.

Mothers who only have one child say that others find it hard to accept their decision to not have more children. Mother-of-one Gemma Hughes, 32 (pictured with her son Alfie) decided to only have one child after complications during birth

Being on the receiving end of such acerbic preconceptions can be hurtful, to say the least. And the parents of sole children aren’t the only ones branded ‘selfish’ — their offspring are often said to grow up spoilt and self-oriented. It seems the negative connotations of having, or being, a ‘lonely only’ are as prevalent as ever.

But this image is beginning to jar, because the number of one-child families in the UK is growing steadily, a social change that has far-reaching ramifications for all.

It is predicted that more than half of British families will have just one child by 2022, according to expert analysis of Office for National Statistics figures.

The latest ONS data shows that in 2016, 45 per cent of all families with dependent children (those aged under 16, or under 18 but still in education) had just one dependent child.

That compares with 42 per cent of families in 1996. Meanwhile, 40 per cent of these families had two dependent children, and just 15 per cent had three or more.

Some critics worry Britain will become a country of ‘little emperors’, a phrase coined in China, where the government’s rule of one child for every couple has apparently produced millions of spoilt youngsters.

Gemma (pictured with son Alfie and partner Paul) suffered from hyperemesis for the first 22 weeks of her pregnancy. She said having one child means she is able to provide more for him

Here in the UK, birth rates have been falling since the Sixties for a host of reasons, including the growing cost of raising a family (now estimated at £230,000 per child until the age of 21).

Greater career opportunities for women have also led many to delay motherhood — in turn limiting the number of children they have.

The Centre for Policy on Ageing says that over the past 50 years, our society has shifted from being high mortality/high fertility to low mortality/low fertility. This means while more generations are alive at the same time, there are fewer living relatives within these generations.

The result? An impending care crisis for the generation of parents who have only one child to look after them in old age.

According to the Institute for Public Policy Research, a progressive think tank, most care for older people isn’t provided by the State or private agencies, but by family members, at an estimated value of £55 billion annually. That’s a hefty burden to fall on one child’s shoulders. And if the children can’t take the strain, then inevitably the burden will fall back on the State.

Lesley Pyne, 55, knows what it’s like to be an only child solely responsible for caring for parents. In her case, it was first her mother, Brenda, who had Parkinson’s disease, and then her father, Allan, who died three years ago.

Jessie Wilson (pictured with daughter Timi), 39, grew up without siblings. She and her partner Philip, 50, decided to have one daughter, Timi

‘My husband has a sibling and I definitely felt more of an obligation to my parents than he did, especially in the holidays,’ she says.

‘When I was working full time as a civil servant, a lot of my holidays were taken up visiting them because I would take Fridays off. I spent many hours travelling up and down the M1 from my home in London to theirs in Yorkshire.’

When her mum was diagnosed with Parkinson’s 15 years ago, her father was the primary carer and Lesley supported him. Gradually, however, Brenda’s condition worsened, and she spent her last six months bed-bound.

‘It was hard because my dad was always behind the curve. I was constantly suggesting he get more help and I was worried that living so far away from me, he was just putting on a show. There were many times I thought it would have been nice to share the care with a sibling.’

Being an only child for me wasn’t a bad thing, and I think I’m the best mother I can be having one child. I’m able to do the meaningful job that I do and not be distracted

But the real pressure came after her mother died in 2006, aged 74, leaving her father alone.

‘When it was just my dad it became even harder. There was no one else for him to spend holidays with, and he wasn’t happy on his own.

‘All the responsibility to look after him and make sure he felt included in family events fell on me.’

When her father became ill, there was no alternative but to put her own life on hold. ‘Caring for him consumed my life until he died four months later,’ she says. ‘Luckily, both my husband and I were self-employed and we have no children which made it easier.

‘What I find really hard now that my parents have gone is that there is nobody left alive who still remembers all the wonderful experiences we shared. I’m the only person.’

Many mothers of only children would have liked more, but the decision was taken out of their hands — regardless, they’re often made to feel guilty or inadequate.

Take Gemma, who suffered from hyperemesis (severe morning sickness) for the first 22 weeks of her pregnancy. Then came the seemingly never-ending labour — delayed by Alfie not being in the correct position, his heart rate dropping and Gemma contracting an infection.

Jessie (pictured) believes growing up as an only child makes you more independent

After 100 hours of contractions, Alfie was delivered by forceps without pain relief — an agonising experience.

Despite the obvious reasons for her decision to stop at one child, she still feels guilty.

‘I’m from a big family — my mum is one of seven and my dad one of nine. As one of three myself, I wanted to recreate the close bond between siblings in my own family.’

But that wasn’t to be, and these days Gemma believes there are more pros than cons. ‘We’ll be able to provide so much more for Alfie — material things as well as time.

‘Paul never wanted children in the first place, although he loves Alfie to bits, so he’s happy with just the one. And I’m more focused on getting my career off the ground. But others around us can’t accept that.’

Author and psychologist Lauren Sandler, herself an only child and mother to an only child, agrees that society ‘demonises’ families such as hers. But her experience has only been a positive one.

‘Being an only child for me wasn’t a bad thing,’ she says, ‘and I think I’m the best mother I can be having one child. I’m able to do the meaningful job that I do and not be distracted.’

What may surprise the snipers is that studies prove only children are far from all bad news. Dig beneath the popular assumptions and you’ll find a slew of positives. For example, research has shown mothers who have one child are happier than those with more.

What’s more, a second and subsequent child has more of an impact on marriages than the first. And recent research by the London School of Economics showed that only children are more likely to support parents in old age than those with siblings.

‘Our findings show that only children are more likely to step up when their parents are in need of care as they tend to have a heightened sense of responsibility towards parents,’ said Dr Thijs van den Broek, from the school’s department of social policy.

As for an only child’s development being emotionally stunted in some way, Lauren Sandler says research tells a different story.

One of the reasons Jessie (pictured as a baby, with her own mum Pat) decided to have one child was to mirror the close relationship she had with her own mother

‘In hundreds of studies exploring character traits including leadership, maturity, extroversion, social participation, popularity, generosity, co-operativeness, flexibility, emotional stability and contentment — only children scored just as well as children with siblings.

‘And endless research shows that only children are, in fact, no more self-involved than anyone else. It turns out brutal sibling rivalry isn’t necessary to beat the ego out of us; peers and classmates can do the job.’

According to Sandler, only children test more favourably on generosity and sociability, two traits with which they were thought to struggle, and teachers have found only children to have fewer ‘nervous symptoms’ than their classmates with bigger families.

Then there are the studies that show only children score higher in achievement and motivation, too.

FAMOUS ONLY CHILDS High achieving only children include: Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra and Maria Sharapova Advertisement

Prime Minister Theresa May, an only child, exemplifies research that shows only children tend to be leaders and focused members of the workforce.

Still, Sandler believes ‘parents of only children can’t win’. ‘If they aren’t accused of over-parenting, they’re accused of not wanting to parent enough.’

Jessie Wilson, 39, knows the feeling; she worries she’s not viewed as a proper mum because she has only one child. Despite the fact she founded a marketing company for small businesses called the Institute of Mums, she feels a fake.

‘I feel a bit of a fraud because I’m a mum with an only child,’ she says. ‘I’ve just written a business book about marketing to mums and I feel I might be judged if I put: “Jessie is a mum of one,” in the introduction, so I’m just going to say: “Jessie is a Tunbridge Wells-based mum,” and leave it at that.’

Jessie and her partner Philip, 50, an airline pilot, have one daughter Timi, aged eight — mirroring her own childhood as an only child.

‘Not having any brothers or sisters didn’t even cross my mind when I was little,’ she says. ‘My dad was working away a lot, and it was mostly me and my mum together at home. I was happy.

Dipti Tait (pictured as a baby with her parents), 44, struggled to carry the load of her parents' death as an only child with no one to share the grief

‘We were very poor for many years but I can only remember being very loved and close to my mum. She was only 21 when she had me and we were more like sisters — we still are.’

Her mum, Pat, 61, says having only one child was less about poverty, and more to do with the fact that she felt she couldn’t have coped with more.

Jessie says: ‘I remember my paternal grandmother — who had five children — saying to me: “It must be so lonely,” but it wasn’t. My mum couldn’t lavish much money on me but she could give me a lot of time. I’ve gone on now to only have one daughter, and I wouldn’t know where to begin having more than one child.

‘Selfishly, I suppose I also want to replicate the closeness I have with my own mother.’

According to Jessie, growing up as an only child also makes you independent. ‘When I was 16, Mum got a job in London [by this point her parents were divorced] and when we discussed what to do because I was in the middle of my A-levels, we decided the best thing would be for her to move to London and rent a flat during the week and I’d stay at home near Bristol on my own.

‘I remember waking up on my 17th birthday on my own thinking: “Oh, Happy Birthday to me . . .” But I loved it and I still like my own company.’

However, not all only children feel so positively. Amber Templaars, a 43-year-old mother of four from Norwich, hated being an only child.

Dipti (pictured) says she is glad to think her two sons will have each other

‘I often felt very lonely,’ she says. ‘My parents were very strict, not allowing me to stay out of the house past 8pm, even when I was 15. I hardly had any friends and would dread things like Christmas, where it was only the three of us. I longed for a brother or sister.’

Amber appreciates she was relatively privileged, getting more spending money than most of the children at her school — but ‘that didn’t make up for the fact I had no one to play with’.

She ended up rebelling: ‘As a teenager, I felt I couldn’t talk to my parents about anything. I met a boy who was two years older than me and got pregnant with my daughter at 17.

‘Do I regret how I behaved? Of course, but I really feel that being an only child has shaped my life in a negative way. Emotionally I’ve been a closed book. I don’t trust people easily and find it difficult to allow people near me in case I get hurt.’

Amber says she ‘knew from the start that I would never want my daughter to be an only child’.

Separated from her husband, she lives in Norwich with children Georgie, 22, Katie, seven, and James, five (her eldest, Chloe, 25, has her own place).

‘Even though there is a massive age gap between the eldest two and the youngest, they get on so well and love each other dearly.

‘I look at that bond and I just wish I’d experienced it myself.’

Only child Dipti Tait, 44, a hypnotherapist, can identify with Amber’s sense of isolation. She lost her dad at 24 and her mother at 37 and admits she struggled because there was no one with whom to share the load.

‘Growing up in West London, it was only me and my parents, Ram and Manju. I know they would have loved to have had more children, but when I was born at only six months weighing just 2lb, my mum was told she couldn’t carry babies to full-term.’

Dipti’s dad was diagnosed with leukaemia when she was 24, and it was up to her to break the news to her mum: ‘I definitely wished I’d had a sibling at that point. When he died three months later, I felt no one could understand my pain of losing him.

‘Mum was so wrapped up in her grief — understandably — that she could not parent me through my grief and I felt I suddenly had to be a mum to my mum.’

When, in 2011, her mother died of liver cancer, it hit Dipti hard. ‘Again, I had no one to share the pain with but also had to deal with the practicalities of death. I remember sitting in the funeral parlour being asked all kinds of questions about what kind of wood I’d like used for her coffin and I had no idea.

‘I have my two boys now and I’m glad to think that when we’ve gone they will have each other to lean on.’

Lauren Sandler feels we need more focus on helping only children with the burden of responsibility: ‘If we look at China, it is the inverted pyramid of four grandparents, two parents and one child who may end up shouldering the burden of those six elderly relatives.’

A sobering thought, indeed. But for many children it’s a very real picture of the future.