We’ve reached the halfway point in this pregnancy. It’s hard to believe that in a mere 20 weeks (give or take a week or two depending on when this baby makes his or her debut) we’ll be meeting and welcoming our second child. Our second child. When did I even get old enough to have a first?
Seeing our sweet baby kick and wiggle on the ultrasound Monday made this pregnancy real. It made all of it real. The fact that in a matter of months I’m going to have not one but two tiny humans under my wing and in my care. That I’m not only going to be responsible for the life, character, and well being of one person, but two.
Aside from that overwhelming realization, I’ve felt the slightest bit of fear start to creep into my life. Fear that I know will subside over time and seem ridiculous as the years pass. But, for now…it’s there nonetheless.
…of how Noah is going to handle having another baby around. It’s been just him for almost four years. Me and him all day during the day. Just the two of us and our little routine and habits. He’s my best little buddy and the idea of him feeling that he is less loved or cared for terrifies me. I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s being replaced or that he is any less special that before his brother or sister arrived. I know that as he gets older he’ll understand that there is room for both him and his sibling in my heart, but it’s those beginning weeks and months that have me scared. For him. And for me.
…of not bonding as quickly with my second child as I did with my first. I’ve heard horror stories from mama’s who just didn’t “click” with their second (or third/fourth/fifth…) child as they did with their first. The anticipation this time is the same as it was before and after our long attempts and trials with even having this baby, there’s no reason in the world to think that this baby is wanted/needed/desired.
…about a return of PPD and deep onset baby blues. My struggle with PPD was no where near as bad as others; and I don’t pretend that it was. I’ve read graphic and terrifying stories of postpartum depression and I can’t even imagine what some of these mom’s went through. My struggle was bad enough. I lost weight in an unhealthy way, took out anger and sadness on my husband in ways that I shouldn’t have, and generally felt absolutely miserable when I should have been happy and thriving with my new baby. This island during the winter time is prone to bring about depression and despair for even those who have never struggled with depression. As someone who has battled it in the past, the environmental tendencies of where we live have me worried about a relapse.
…about slipping back into the routine of putting everyone and everything before myself. It took me three years to reach the point of doing anything for myself again after Noah was born. I was sad. I was lonely. I felt like my entire reason for existence had disappeared and all that I had left to do was change diapers, fix food and clean my house. I loved being a stay-at-home mom and spending time with just my son. But, I need the gratification and satisfaction that I get from working and running my own business. I worry that having two children will mean that I can’t do that or that I’ll reach a point of having to give up more than I want to.
…that I’ll have no clue how to balance being a parent of two children. And being a wife. And running a business. And all of the other things that I am/want to do.
…that I’m going to let someone down. My husband. My son. My other child. My family. That I’m not going to be able to handle it. And that they will all be disappointed.
…that life is going to take a crazy turn in next few months and that I’m not going to be ready for it.
Linking up this post with Shell @ Things I Can’t Say for Pour Your Heart Out.
Thea is a friend and fellow Coastie wife with a crazy talent for baking and decorating beautiful cakes and desserts. She’s the genius and artist behind the Gender Reveal cake we’ll be slicing into at our party on July 14. She’s a certified culinary artist and has baked and created some of the most beautiful works of art I’ve ever seen.