Now that I have got over myself and made you aware that I am pregnant again it seems like I have 37 weeks worth of banal comments to share with you. I will avoid this as best I can but there are a couple of things that have given me pause for thought and made me wish I was blogging to share.
I go to a lovely toddler class run by an ex-midwife most weeks. Its a really chilled out class that the bambina loves and is frequented by a lot of 2nd time Mums. Over time I’ve got chatting to one lady imparticular (we’ll call her Jill) who has a 3 year old girl and a 6 month old little boy. She’s one of those people who you almost know you’ll get on with on sight and she’s kept a bit of an eye on me during my pregnancy.
4/5 months in to my (very much planned) pregnancy I had a bit of a wobble you see. I suddenly realised that it wouldn’t just be me and my little girl anymore. (Not to exclude my lovely hubby but just to be honest about how I feel). I was sad for me and I was sad for her; She would now have to share me when all my focus, attention and love had been on her for the best part of two years. Rationally I knew it would be ok, that I would love no 2 just as much as no 1 and that I would make sure my first born felt just as important as she always had but…the thoughts were there in the back of my head and were inclined to make me weepy mid “mummy cuddle”.
Jill had me figured out straight away. She said that whilst she’d been pregnant second time round she had become an emotional wreck that her other half really struggled to manage. She was “in mourning” for her relationship with her little girl. Her phrase. And would frequently burst in to tears at the prospect of what she had done to her family, her daughter and herself. In comparison I have been relatively sane. The tears have been sporadic at best and I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t occasionally have a quiet weep at my lovely daughter pregnant or not. So in short her honesty made me feel a lot better, and a lot more normal.
It was only last week that I realised what Jill described was really quite serious stuff in her case and actually translated into post natal depression after she had her little boy. The revelation that in the car on the way home from hospital after having her little boy she told her husband that she “loved one of her children and not the other” was the start of a struggle to bond with her 2nd born that she’s now more than over but needed midwife intervention.
So where does this leave me and my head. As the pregnancy has progressed I’ve realised that I will miss just having one baby girl, but I am also so very lucky to be adding another little girl to my family. As time has gone on I know for sure that i’ve got more than enough love to go round.