Preparing for another baby

A few nights my daughter woke up screaming. She was sick from a virus and needing comfort. I picked her up and as soon as she was in my arms, the crying stopped. She nuzzled her head in my neck and within a minute, I could hear soft snoring in my ear. I gently sat in a chair beside her bed, careful not to disturb her, and continued rocking and humming gently. Suddenly I could feel her baby sister moving around in my belly. I imagined this little baby reaching out to give her big sister a hug. It was so precious to feel both of my children all cuddled and close together. One in my womb and one out.

I used to think that any mother with more than one kid was an ‘expert.’ It turns out it isn’t the case, at least not for me. Although there are some things I’m sure I will be more relaxed with this time around, it’s still new territory. In many ways I feel like I’m doing this again for the first time, I just also happen to have a toddler along for the ride. The very concept of pregnancy still feels miraculous and mind-blowing. To feel this baby kick and grow inside my belly, just as I did with my first, is incredible. I feel honoured and inherently valuable to be a home for my growing baby. I feel more and more trust in my body for doing exactly what it needs to do because it’s already done this before. In my first pregnancy, I was terrified of doing the wrong thing. I was constantly on high alert, examining everything I put in and on my body, monitoring her movements like a hawk. I felt hesitant, worried, and uncertain about everything from birth to parenthood. It didn’t help that at the time we were in the thick of lockdown, gripped by the mass fear and hysteria surrounding Covid-19. But now, we’ve come out the other side and life is a bit more normal again. We have a happy, healthy, and adorable 20-month-old. Being her mum is the best feeling in the world. I feel so much love and pride in all that she is.

I find it hard to believe that in about a month I will be a mother again to a whole new person. Time really has flown by, just like everyone said it would. It doesn’t feel like long ago that we were preparing for our firstborn. I look back on photos of my husband and I smiling at the camera, me with my round bowling ball of a belly not having any idea what we were about to walk into. I remember how anytime I felt my daughter kick I was overcome in awe and bewilderment. It felt impossible to carry on having a normal conversation when I could feel her moving around. I remember the intensity of birth and how surreal it was to finally have her in my arms. I simply could not believe it. I remember bringing her home, on the shortest/longest car ride of my life, feeling so worried about every bump, cautious of every driver around us. I remember getting home from the hospital and introducing her to our cat. She was fast asleep in her car seat and our cat came over, sniffed her and walked away. It was the most anti-climactic meeting ever. I remember both my husband and I looking at each-other like, ‘Wow. Okay… Now what?’ I remember the tears, the intensity of emotions, and the anxiety of going to bed at night wondering when I would be woken up again. I also remember how it all passed relatively quickly, although it never felt like it in the moment. She’s not even two years old and she’s already gone through so many versions of herself. Things change so quickly in hindsight. When I look at us now all I feel is a sense awe for how much she’s grown, but also how much my husband and I have too. We’ve been thrown into this whirlwind ride of being parents, learning to put our own needs aside as we navigate taking care of our daughter. It’s been exhausting and demanding, but also rewarding and often hilarious. I love how we both love the same person more than anyone else in the world. Both of our hearts are tangled up in hers.

During these 20 months of parenthood, I’ve learned that becoming a mother is a journey that I will be on for the rest of my life. Entering into this role has humbled me. I’ve pushed up against my own ideals around motherhood, selflessness, and perfectionism. I see how much my own mental health plays into who I am and how I show up for my daughter. Taking time out and away from being her primary caregiver is vital. I also realise that I cannot shield her from every misfortune in life. Unfortunately, she will experience rejection, heartbreak, pain, and grief. That’s part of life. Instead, I intend on reminding her (and her soon-to-be sibling) of their inner strength and courage. To foster their sense of resilience. I want them to feel they have the tools to manage the ups and, most importantly, the downs of life. I want them to be ok with failing and reframing that from the worst thing in the world to a very normal experience on the path to success. I want them to live openly and lovingly, being sensitive and empathetic to other people, creatures, and the planet. I hope that I personally can hold onto empathy for every stage of life they progress through. Particularly the teenage years when my voice takes up less space in their world. But I also accept that I’m a flawed person with good intentions. I won’t always get it right and I hope in those times I can be kind to myself. As long as I try my best, that is enough.

As we get closer to the due date, my hope is that this time I can really take it all in; fully immersing myself in it. I look forward to the moment when I can finally look into the eyes of my newborn, the second little person who has lived inside my belly, kicking and hiccupping away. Bringing home a new life, adding a whole new person to our family. In times of difficulty, I hope to remember how precious and ephemeral this all is. I’m grateful to have this experience, to feel myself evolve and change, as painful as it is sometimes. It’s the next stage of who I’m meant to become as a mother, but also as a human being. It will be tough at times, but it will be worth it.