Skip to main content

To my second-born.

Dear my second child,


You arrived straight crash bang into the hustle and bustle. There was no ease into it, no cosy afternoons spent together, no having us all to yourself, spending hours just gazing at you. In absolute awe.

To just watch you now is a rarity.

Even though these nights are long, I do enjoy them because it’s our time together. A time that we don’t get the luxury of spending in any other moment. My days are split and torn, running between you and your sister, trying to weigh up who needs me more in that second and I always feel heavy with the strain of guilt, of not being there fully with either of you.

But these nights are ours. Even though every fibre of my being wants to sleep and then sleep some more, I’m so happy that if I can’t, that I get to spend the time with you.

I love your snuffles and soft, fluffy hair. The way you calm as soon as I pick you up and your arms wrap about me. How we cuddle for a bit until I can transfer you to your bed. Your baby smell and your little pyjamas. Your sighs and how your hands hold mine. Your sleepy stretches and the way you watch me as I wrap you up with your knowing, old soul eyes.

These nights are the only time we have purely for each other and I’m really grateful for them.

Our days together, with all of us, have been a learning curve, but you take it all in your stride - much better than I do to be honest. Sometimes you have to wait in your capsule while I sort out your big sister and you just calmly watch on at our antics, me fussing about with dinner and washing hands and finding a toy cat and you just wait. You’re so happy laying on the ground, looking at those contrasting books, and then when someone comes over to play with you, you get so excited. You’re so lovely, truly. We’re so lucky to have you.

You’re so different than what we were prepared for. We weren’t sure what to expect and we only had our experience to go by, you see. Like your entrance into the world. Like how you prefer not to be carried around, but instead are totally content just laying down with someone by your side. Like how when you get really upset (rarely), you have a cry that sounds like a lamb. Like how you relax instantly in the bath.

And I wasn’t prepared for how much my heart would expand at something as simple as you and your sister at bath time. She loves to help wash you and you don’t even mind when she tries to pour water on your face. It’s one of my favourite times of the day, seeing you both together and so content. Something I looked forward to throughout my whole pregnancy.

I want you to know how much we love you. How thankful we are that you are part of our family. And how grateful we are for everything you have given us. Even though we can’t give you as much time as we could your sister, because both of you need us you see, please know that our love for both of you is unimaginably big. To be the ones lucky enough to be needed by both of you means that although our attention and energy is split, our love only keeps growing.

All my love, always.
Your Mum.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It gets easier (yes, yes it does).

Last night I had the privilege of reading this post by Emily Writes; a favourite author, advocate, and rebel of mine. And my goodness, her words rang true! When our toddler was about 6 weeks old, we were at one of our first Space sessions where lo and behold she screamed for most of the time. I was trying to hold back the tears as I watched all of my mum friends with their happy babies, seemingly having it all together and knowing what they were doing. I didn’t know why my baby screamed so much and why nothing I did would settle her. After cursing myself for leaving the house and swearing to never go back, I started talking to one of the session coordinators. She told me that she had four kids, much to my absolute horror in that moment. I had no idea how it was even humanly possible to cope with one child, let alone four! I felt as though I would be stuck beneath these tidal waves of desperation and drowning and just wanting it all to end, forever. I asked her how she did it, you know...
2 comments
Read more

Hand, foot, and mouth: an essay on depression during motherhood.

  “Ahh” the doctor said knowingly, as he peered into her mouth. “Looks like hand, foot, and mouth to me,” he then explained while examining her toes. “You’ll need to keep her home and away from everyone.” he concluded, handing me a prescription for more pamol with the cautious warning, “you’ll need it.” I used to think hand, foot, and mouth was something that only plagued unlucky sheep. However, toddlerhood has shown me that if there's a gross bug to catch, they will catch it. They just seem to lick everything in sight. This prognosis of having our usual routine disrupted made me feel a bit all over the place. // I feel dull. And dulled. Each day that stretches before me yawns, gaping, open, an unfathomable expanse of wondering how I’ll possibly cope. The clawing anxiety sets in too - if these days are long and heavy right now, how much more will they swell and expand in a few months time when my second baby arrives? Am I meant to feel this way? Maybe this is the united, fearful st...
3 comments
Read more

“Do you research” does not mean reading Facebook.

 Most days I come across yet another person I follow on Instagram having fallen deep deep into the whole anti-vaxx, anti-lockdown, scamdemic thing. And I’m just like you too mate? Yet another one bites the dust?  They all seem to have a few things in common. Largeish followings. White. Wealthy. Everyone close to them is healthy. Job title: influencer.  I can’t even with these people. They both shock me and appal me. And I just feel like they’re growing in number each day. Let’s just say I’ve been pressing the unfollow button a lot lately. Sometimes though I go back to visit their page a while later, just to see how deep down the fake rabbit hole they’ve fallen.  Wakeful babies give you plenty of time to scroll. I think it’s the shock value that makes me want to look again.  And each time I’m even more shocked and grossed out by their sheer lack of common sense alongside their cruelty towards literally anyone who isn’t them. So many of them have escalated beyond ...
Post a Comment
Read more