I’m sitting here at my computer, 3:00pm on the dot, November 30th, 2020. Twenty-three minutes away from 1 full year as a mom of two. Things are much calmer this year than they were at this moment 365 days ago. The birthday boy and his older brother are napping, leaving the house unusually quiet. Rather than trying to squeeze in as much housework (..or housewives, guilty) as possible before the tiny terror— I mean angels, get up, I decided to take this time to reflect on our first year with Jax. And my first year as a mom of two.
The day I went into labor with Jax started as a very typical day. In fact, I had sent a text that morning saying I felt like he was going to stay put a while longer. It was 10 days before my due date after all and Nash was a week past due, I figured we had some time.
Around noon I put Nash down for a nap. At this point, I was having mild sporadic contractions. I sort of ignored them (oops) thinking I was dehydrated, and just started drinking water. I found that in pregnancy if I didn’t drink water continuously, I’d get a little crampy. However, this time “a little crampy” turned into “Holy shit, I’m having a baby” real quick. This followed by my husband, Brett, bursting into the bathroom to find me screaming on the shower floor.
“Get Nash up, call your mom, I’m in labor!!”
And do you know what he said to me?
“Are you sure?”
I’m laughing now as I type that. But I did not laugh then. Fellas, if your significant other tells you she’s in labour, never, ever, ask her if she is sure. Focus, get your shit together, and do exactly as she says. OK? In his defense, his parents had to drive 2 hours and across the border to take care of Nash. Anyway, once he realized this wasn’t a drill he started to get us sorted and headed to the hospital.
As Brett was packing up the car, Nash walked into my bedroom where I was attempting to put pants on, mid contraction. I remember the moment vividly. I was standing beside my bed, feet on the floor, bent at the hips, with my stomach and head on my bed (if you can visualize that). I let out an awful, uncontrollable scream from the pain. Just then I saw Nash standing in my doorway, horrified, crying. All I wanted to do was hold him and comfort him, but I couldn’t.
My maternal instinct to protect my son was completely overpowered by my body’s instinct to birth his baby brother. It was the first of many times when I would feel guilty knowing that bringing a new baby into our family meant less of me for him. Maybe that sounds ridiculous. I was in active labor, so this was an extreme, one-off, situation. And of course I couldn’t tend to him. But mom guilt has a habit of showing up uninvited at the funniest times.
This story brings me to the first point I want to talk about…
What Has Been The Hardest Part?
Undoubtedly, the hardest part of going from 1 to 2 children has been that there’s not enough of me to go around. It can often feel like I am needed far more than I am available-The demand greatly outweighs the supply.
I also felt a lot of guilt in the beginning, and still do honestly. A new baby is an adjustment for everyone and that adjustment can be particularly hard for the other children in the family. I wanted Nash to feel loved and included all the time. But with a newborn, breastfeeding, and all that is postpartum, it’s not always possible to be everything for every one. In fact it borders on impossible.
But you know what?
That’s OK.
I learned that I do not need to be 100% available all the time. There is only so much one human is capable of and it is more than enough. I learned to give myself grace in these moments. I’ve learned that I have to decide what’s most important and put my energy there first.
At times that means sacrificing or forgoing certain things to address what’s most important. Making trade-offs like taking a shower instead of folding the laundry when you find a spare 10 minutes lying around (which doesn’t happen too often, so snatch them when you can.)
Having said that, I also learned that I need to include myself on that list of things deserving my energy. Our children can be happy and healthy without burning ourselves out. (P.s. iPads and screen time-perfectly OK. And at times a lifesaver!)
The days can be tough, but not every part is hard. There has been so much over the past year that has been amazing as well. Let’s talk about it..
What I’ve Loved
As exhausting as it can be having two young children, it is so, so, completely worth it! I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t plan it this way and I was pretty nervous about the whole deal. But I am so happy things happened exactly when they did. I knew immediately when Jax was born that this was exactly right.
I’d have to say my favorite part of being a mom of two has been watching this sibling bond develop between my boys. Over the past few months, it has been budding at a rapid pace. They seem to have these sort of “inside jokes” if you will. They’ll make eye contact and giggle as if they’re in on some plan that mom and dad are oblivious to. Sometimes I catch myself just sitting, watching, smiling from ear to ear, as they play together and communicate in a way that only they know how.
Don’t get me wrong- I also do my share of refereeing. And the words “Don’t hit/push/kick/sit on your brother” come out of my mouth more than I had anticipated. But when the chaos cools a little, there is nothing in the world like observing the two most important people in your life become infinitely important to one another.
What I’ve Learned About Myself
Becoming a mom is scary, exciting, but scary. We are all amateurs walking blindly into a life long contract. Read all the books, take every class-neither of which I did by the way. Absorb all the unsolicited advice, but you cannot teach experience.
The good news however, is that not a single one of us really knows if we’re doing anything right. I think mainly because there is no one way. Parenting is not black and white, not even close. It’s shades of grey, bending rules, and altering who you thought you’d be to make room for the perfectly flawed person that you are.
Having my second baby undoubtedly strengthened my confidence as a mother. I became more decisive in my parenting choices. Less pondering over what to do and when. I began to trust my instincts more, and turn to google less.
I learned that mistakes are inevitable, but you can’t beat yourself up every time. If there is a lesson to be learned, learn it- but move on quickly. Kids seem to grow up exponentially faster than the rest of us. Babbling babies turn into independent young people long before our hearts will be ready to let them. I don’t want to spend one unnecessary minute reliving the past when the now is so fleeting.
Lastly, and I think the most valuable thing I’ve learned about myself so far is that I am much stronger than I had previously realized. Things that once seemed impossible have now become my daily life.
Parenthood is a never-ending series of new beginnings and unique challenges. The roller coaster never slows long enough for your head to float back into your body before you’re being whipped upside down through another loop. We may not know how we’re going to navigate the next course until we are already doing it. And by then we’re already driving 60 miles per hour down a poorly lit winding road with no brakes. Sounds a little scary, and it is-but just a little.
I’ve learned over this past year that you’re never ready for what’s next. But I’ve also learned that if you can trust your abilities, lean into your intuition, and try to shake some of the doubt, the load begins to lighten. The unknown is a lot less scary when you begin to trust yourself.
