This time last year….

This time last year I was getting ready to have a baby.

HOW on EARTH did that year fly past?

This time last year I re-packed my bags and rechecked my stocked fridge and freezer and took my little missy out for the last time as a proper dynamic duo. I sat with her and talked to her again for what seemed like the hundredth time about how mummy was having the baby tomorrow and from tomorrow she’d have a real life brother to do things with together. At that moment I remember seeing both the excitement and trepidation in her eyes as I knew she didn’t quite understand what was happening. I knew though that she did understand that something was changing as she did that thing she does when she’s anxious, nervous or scared about a situation and brings a hand up to her neck and will pinch it until she calms down. Every time she’d come into our room (where we’d already set up her old bassinet) she’s point and say “that belonged to Amira – for baby now.” I’d hold her close and tell her that she was my angel and I loved her and her brother more than anything.

Well – the procrastinator in me didn’t even get a chance to post that (above) yesterday. Instead here I am on the 11^th of November sitting away at work. This time last year I was sitting/laying in a hospital bed being induced. This time last year I was thought to myself “oh God, here we go again!” as I rode wave after wave of contraction and realised that I much, MUCH preferred to have had labour brought on naturally than to be induced – you live and learn though don’t you?

I remember wondering what this baby would be like; a boy – something I had no idea how to raise. Not to say that when I was having Amira that I knew how to raise her, but her being a girl and me being a girl, I felt somewhat more prepared and “capable”. Being an only child and being raised by a single mum meant I was more than apt to address all things girly… but not so much where it came to boys and their boys bits.

A year later and I now REALLY know what colic is about – the first 6 weeks and his constant crying compared to the now toddler I see every day is so different. You, my dearest Rocco are this smiley, loving child who hugs back and laughs and is playful and keen to explore. Already I can see that you’re definitely a “boy” boy – this hatred you have to be cleaned where your sister was the exact opposite and to this day despises dirt and asks to clean her hands, face etc. Already I see you pulling thigs apart so indelicately and your need to climb is far, far greater than Amira’s ever was. And then lastly but most importantly there is smell you have – this unmistaken smell that I assume is what comes with having a boy. It’s not a bad smell… just something I have noticed that Amira never had after that newborn smell wore off. There is this unmistakeable smell that I know is you… and I love it.

I could go on and on… but let’s not. Happy first birthday my darling boy.

Baby number 2: Dear Rocco

How is it that (nearly) ten months have passed? Where did that time go? How is it that you’re turning 1 so soon and your sister is going to be 3? It seems like only yesterday I was staring at you in your hospital crib worried about what was to come – scared about how things would be between us all whilst at the same time in awe of what was happening: I was now a mum of TWO! I remember wondering how Amira would be with you now; hopeful that she’d take this new role now that you’d entered our lives as a real, breathing and needing human rather than just this big belly protrusion.

I remember enjoying the silence; of the fact that because you were the second one, you and I were actually able to enjoy some one on one time before everyone else arrived. I remember eating breakfast whilst holding you that first morning just staring at you with pure wonderment and being amazed that I was a mum again… to a boy this time! I hoped that I would be able to give you the attention you deserved but still give Amira the attention she’d been receiving; I remember being so scared that you might miss out on the time and affection I gave to missy when she was a newborn that I might not have with you.

And when Amira very cautiously entered our hospital room and didn’t want to touch you as the rest of the family stared at you with love I remember being so excited to see my little angel, I walked with her down the hall and told her that I’d missed her and that Rocco was so excited to spend time her. I remember telling her that mummy loved her so much and that she would always be the person who turned me into a mummy and that my heart belonged to both of you. In the weeks to come I remember the challenges of you crying almost all the time when you weren’t sleeping or eating. Crying so never-endingly that Amira would say “put Rocco down and please play with me mummy” or “Rocco noisy”. Trying to explain to a 2 year old that her little brother had colic and that it wasn’t his fault and that I was so sorry I couldn’t put him down because he needed me. I remember how it broke my heart; it broke for you dear Rocco because all I wanted was for you to be ok; to stop being so red in the face and to be ok and know and understand that I loved you so very much. My heart hurt because I hated myself for not being able to play more with Amira when she asked; for wanting to cry even more than I did which was almost each and every day because this parenting caper with 2 under 2 seemed so hard mentally, physically and emotionally. I remember crying in the dark as I held you, crying as I’d lay with Amira and put her sleep and crying in the shower because this was HARD on levels that I couldn’t even begin to explain to your dad. Crying because I expected more of myself.

But things did get easier – Over the weeks I found my footing and the colic dwindled and then a new set of challenges came (as is the way with parenting): you my darling Rocco did not want to take a bottle, then didn’t want formula to not taking a bottle from anyone except me. You tested me and challenged in in a way that your sister never, ever did. With her, from the very beginning I felt this knowingness – like she was (and so far) so much a mini me that there comes this sense of innate understanding. But then there were other times; even during your colic, when I’d try and coincide your naps with Amira and I’d have us in bed all together; and as I’d lay there with one of you on either side of me I look at both your faces and felt my insides explode with such joy and happiness I knew that this was what I was created for; that nothing else prior to being the mum to both of you mattered. I’d take in your smells and how you’d both curl into me and how Amira’s little arm would be hugging me but she’d have her hand on your chest. I remember desperately hoping that I would never ever forget this feeling, taking a mental snapshot of us all; thanking God for this glorious gift.

With you dear Rocco, from the very first time your dad and I lay eyes on you; you seemed like this old soul – you’d look at me with such love and adoration and be so beyond excited to see me. Where Amira made us worked for smiles you throw them out at us; you included daddy in more things than Amira ever did at this stage and for that I am beyond grateful and you absolutely love and adore your big sister. Each morning I am amazed at how excited both of you are to see one another; it is the MOST heart-warming feeling to know that you both share this bond. I hope and pray that it never changes; that it is always this pure, honest and uncompetitive. I love knowing that when no one except mummy can console you there is actually only one other person who CAN: Amira… my little mini me.

3 Months post-partum & a dead animal in my shower drain?

When I was pregnant with lil miss Amira I remember suddenly having thick, luscious and shiny hair! Pre-pregnancy I have ALWAYS been one of those girls who shed quite a bit a hair. I think this is because I have curly hair; I actually don’t comb/brush my hair unless I am washing it; so I guess when I am putting it up or “running” my hands through it it only makes sense that a “few” strands would fall out. BUT when I got pregnant the first time I was BEYOND shocked to see hardly any shedding!

Enter lil Amira being 3 months old and I remember clearly hubby was holding her as I washed my hair… I remember it being really difficult to comb my conditioner through, that there was actually quite a few “matted” areas that hurt to even TRY to get my afro comb through! Post shower I remember bending down to pick up my strands from the drain and lo and behold – it literally looked like I had drowned a rat! Hubby and I freaked out! for the next few months each and every wash resulted in copious amounts of hair being shed – it was depressing and beginning to worry me when I could seriously FEEL that I now had a LOT less hair! Not long after that I started my ‘No Poo’ regime and started washing my hair with bicarb and water and then ‘conditioning’ my hair with apple cider vinegar and found that almost instantly I started to shed SO much less!

When I got pregnant with Rocco I remember WAITING for that thick, shiny hair… but it never came! Everything more or less just stayed the same… my hair looked exactly the same. I couldn’t help but wonder if all the extra hair and lusciousness of it the first time around was because I was having a girl and that the second time around (as I was having a boy) all that extra hormone wasn’t quite as necessary.

So now 3 months later I have gone to wash my hair and sadly report that there now ANOTHER dead rat in my drain! I’ve washed my hair three times since the 11^th and each time I have shed a sad amount of hair… don’t even get me started about how difficult it is to even COMB… I did not expect this (again) this time around as it seemed that with this pregnancy I hadn’t gotten any “extra” hair that needed to be discarded. I can only hope that the shedding doesn’t go for much longer as its driving me crazy – both when I am washing my hair and the fact that both hubby and I have noticed that I seem to forever be cleaning up strands of hair from my bathroom floor!

How easily we forget

I don’t know about you but I am astounded in how 2 years there seem to be both a lot of things I remember and yet a LOT of things I have (already) forgotten about newborns! It has astounded me in such a way that makes me wonder how on earth women who looked after their own newborns more than 10 years ago can feel so adamant about dispensing advice. In saying that, I have been very cautious when dispensing my own ‘anecdotes’ when asked what I did when Amira was a newborn and have tried to start with “I don’t know if it will work for you, but with Amira I think I…” because I’ve found that over time the mind forgets the ‘yuky’ part and has a way of ‘polishing’ the good parts. Perhaps this is nature or God’s way (whichever methodology you ascribe to) of continuing humanity or perhaps it’s just our own feeble, mummy brain affected minds playing tricks on us; whichever one it is, here are the things that I have found that I had forgotten about dealing with newborns:

They really are tiiinnnnyy! I remembered her being little – I remembered her being fragile – but then you have another little one and you are gobsmacked at just HOW teeny, tiny they really, really are! These little fragile, twiglike creatures that I’m scared I could break when changing a nappy.

How breast feeding hurts: when you’re putting a baby to the breast every couple hours and you haven’t breast fed for nearly a year you forget how traumatising it is on the nipples when he/she first latches on and gets going. I loved breast-feeding missy; even with all the attachment issues in the beginning, then her hating one breast to the point of exhaustive fits of crying (first her and then me!) when I’d put her on (to a point where I just gave up and destined myself to lopsided/uneven boobs) and me getting mastitis. I loved the closeness it brought us; the moments where she’d look up at me whilst feeding was like we were sharing our own little secret world that no one else was a part of. It’s not that breast feeding hurts each and every time or for the whole time you’re feeding; it’s just that initial phase when you’re needing to “toughen up” your nipples – that’s the part I’d forgotten about. Which brings me to:

How painful engorgement feels: I must admit that I did fully remember that feeling that came on the third morning post birth, when my milk came in. The shocking feeling as though I had an additional couple kilos on my chest only to be greeted with a Pamela Anderson-sized chest when I looked in the mirror. I remember them being hard (sorry for TMI), for them being even bigger than I thought they’d be and being totally amazed at the concept of child-birth and all that seemed to follow. This time around though my milk started coming in at day 2 and by day three I think I was seriously giving Pammie a damn good run for her money – really; Katie Price had nothing on me! by day 4 I was ready to be able to feed an army of babies! The hardness, the “hotness” – all those feelings came back… but worse this time. And then to have a little bubba who didn’t seem to eat as much as his sister did (though I will say that he did/does want to feed ALL THE TIME!) – well, by the end of night 4 I remember standing in the shower massaging my “mummy glands” as hubby walks in and catches me crying my eyes out of the sheer pain of it all.

How HUNGRY you get post birth and post (beast) feeding: I forgot how famished I’d be after feeding. Re-experiencing this has reminded me that perhaps this is why I never quite got back to pre-baby weight! Literally; I will finish popping Rocco on for a feed and then be thinking “Oooh, I could go a plate of scrambled eggs? or a slice of warmed chocolate cake with a good dollop of thickened cream please?” its profound that these yearnings are there even after the 2am feed when in reality the only thing I should be craving is a warm bed (don’t get me wrong, I am wanting that too, but the cake is outweighing this)

Exactly how tired you will be by the end of the night & the number of times you will get up through the night:  feel that that is pretty self-explanatory. After one baby you know that you will be sleep deprived, but you also know that you’ll survive it and be ok. That after some time, these night time wake ups will lessen and you will find sleep again. But then you have another one and you realise just HOW tired you were – how you are again and then it dawns on me: I will need to sleep train all OVER again!

I know this post sounds like a total rant; a series of complaints, issues and forgotten pitfalls of having babies… but it’s not really… because along with all the above comes the other things that I hadn’t forgotten at all but hadn’t quite remembered as true to what the reality is:

The absolute beauty of watching them sleep

The feeling of bliss of holding them in your arms and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to protect them from the world

The smell of them – the tops of their head smell amazing!

Watching them watching you… & that’s just to name a few!

So that even though I may be beyond tired and its only week 2 of having toddler + newborn and I know I have at least 3 night-time feeds ahead of me later on tonight I must admit… I wouldn’t change a thing. I am a mum of two now and I am amazed by it all.

x

Welcome to the world

Three days overdue and we finally (thanks to induction) say hello to our little boy!

Its beyond amazing how different one experience can be from another; after I had Amira I remember being completely and utterly besotted by her. I sat there staring at her, completely in awe of every little thing she did. I had totally fallen in love with every molecule of her being and she had me completely. But then on the flipside of that; I hated what had become of myself. I felt ashamed of my body and what it looked like post-partum. I cringed looking in the mirror at my changes in my shape; my no-longer flat stomach and my linea-nigra (the darkish vertical line that runs along the belly that starts to show around about the 3^rd trimester) that I foolishly thought would disappear as soon as I’d have her and how I still looked pregnant after already having a baby. I was sore all over; not to mention my “lady region” which, after an episiotomy felt more than tender; I could cry from the agony of it all! For MONTHS and months I felt ruined and even after I could refit into my pre-pregnancy clothes I felt slightly robbed and disappointed that I wasn’t the same.

And that’s not even getting me started on the emotions I felt post Amira… I’m yet to see where the differences may be there!

But now; 24 hours later since having my lil boy (who we’ve named Rocco) I feel so different; I’ve had my shower and looked at myself in the mirror and don’t hate what I see. Instead I actually feel pretty good. I still have that line (again) but I know I just need to see past it and eventually (in a few months) it will fade and disappear. I didn’t tear or need to have an episiotomy this time so my ‘lady parts’ feel a lot more “normal” and I am far more mobile. And I am actually wanting to be mobile and moving this time around; I don’t feel quite like I’m wetting myself with every movement (which is what I experienced with missy – oh how we never appreciate our bladder pre-baby until we have a baby!). I feel more “in control” this time around.

How long that lasts for is a whole other matter though… I guess only time will tell.