An open letter to my second baby...
Finding out we were expecting you was a lot different to when we found out we were having your big sister. With her, we knew that we wanted to start a family, although we probably didn't plan for it to happen so quickly. But this time, it was different, a thought-out decision, that tugged on my heart in a way that I wasn’t quite prepared for.
I was around three weeks when I just knew I was pregnant, I was actually at work and on the way home I felt the sudden urge to stop at the supermarket to buy a test. The next morning, there it was, two solid lines, confirmation that I would have to find some more space in what I thought, was an already full heart.
The excitement was in there somewhere, I promise, although I had to search a little deeper for it. Once again, we fell pregnant very quickly, I think your Daddy was actually a little disappointed the process didn’t drag out for a few more months(!) But in those first weeks of knowing I was pregnant with you, I felt a lot of emotions.
You see, it was just normal to be asked on possibly a weekly basis when I would be having you. A question which is part of a normal conversation to most, but to be honest it took a lot for us to decide whether or not we wanted another baby, and I don't know how that response would have went down. Your sister wasn’t an easy baby, the first few months of her life were emotionally and physically draining, and we had got quite used to it being just the three of us.
Luna is a relatively easy age now (3) with the odd tantrum thrown in. Other than her initial problems, she has been relatively easy, in hindsight. Teething, sleep training, toilet training, weaning, everything has been a 'mild' breeze with the odd gust here and there. We always make a joke and say it’s because she was such a horrendous baby, that she decided to give us an easy life as she grew older.
But I’ll admit I have definitely been worried, whether it be about how I split my time, how I will remember to look after a new baby, how to find the energy to feed you in the night, but most of all, how to be a mummy of two. I worry that I won’t be able to give you and your sister the attention you both deserve, and of course that your sister has grown so used too, and expects on a daily basis.
Will she struggle with a new baby on the scene? Will she like you? Will she play up if you are taking up too much of mummy’s time?
Pregnancy hormones of course have a lot to answer for, and the majority of my friends have more than one baby, probably 90% of them. They tell me it will all be fine and that, ‘you just learn to adapt to life with two’.
Right now, I finally have time for me, as Luna is at the age where she can play independently for a while and I’m not down on my knees for 90% of the day. I’m teaching her that Mummy has other, important things to do and encouraging her to be more independent. Selfish? Maybe. But these are all thoughts I’ve had, and I want to be honest here.
When I had your sister, I strived to be the perfect insta-worthy mummy. I had time to wear fancy baby wraps that took about thirty minutes to get on and apply a full face of make up just to walk to the shop. Time to go to every baby class imaginable, paying £5 for her to sit completely still on my knee, terrified to move her about too much in case she was sick.
I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect, when in fact in those first few months, I just wanted a doctor or a health visitor to listen to me, and really that was the only thing that should have mattered.
This time round, I’ll have to factor in nursery runs, ballet runs, supermarket trips (your sister and Daddy could eat for Britain), the now even more washing, cooking and cleaning… and I’ve definitely had my fair share of self-doubt already.
But then I saw you…
On December 17th, I laid eyes on you for this first time. A tiny black and white vision on the screen. The sonographer kept telling us how active you were given you were only around nine weeks. You gave me a little wave of your hand, a fist pump in the air even, as if to say, “you’ve got this mummy”, and it was as if at that precise moment, my heart expanded some more and you filled that space in instantly.
All of the previous worries and fears that had entered my head completely disappeared.
This time, my head isn’t filled with how your bedroom should look, what clothes you should wear or which baby bath I should buy. Instead, you have taught me to relax, to slow down and enjoy this pregnancy which will likely be my last, two is a good number for me, I like even!
Since that first scan, we’ve had a second and third, we’ve heard your heartbeat, and my heart has filled up even more, I didn’t think it was even possible. They say there are four chambers in our hearts and I guess I’m taking it quite literally, one part belongs to your Daddy, your sister has another, a third is yours and the fourth is for myself.
I talk to you each night and place my hand on where I can feel you squirm. I pay close attention to how big you are roughly, week by week, and figure out where you’re sleeping comfortably, in the safety of my tummy. As I type this my big white belly leans on the laptop keyboard and I can feel you lodge your limbs in awkward places which make me feel like I need the toilet constantly.
Your Daddy and sister love you so much already too, talking to you and placing their hands on you. Luna tells anyone who will listen to her that she’s going to be a big sister and she has all these plans of what the two of you will do together.
And me? I can’t wait. To hold you and to embrace the minute you enter the world, knowing now what to expect when I walk into that labour ward whichever way it may go. The worry of what’s to come isn’t there this time, neither is the need to pack eight baby outfits, or to plan what I should be wearing for our first pictures together.
None of it matters. You matter. I can’t wait for you to teach me everything I need to know to be the mummy of two I can’t wait to be, the good, the bad, the easy, the difficult.
And actually regardless of the worries I’ve had whether they've been big or small, it turns out... I’ve been waiting for you all along.
