Answering big questions

Some questions are perfectly suited to explore during an ad break on tv. A few of my personal favourites include “Would you like me to get you a tim-tam and a blanket?” or “Would you like me to massage your shoulders until the show comes back on?” or “Gosh it’s amazing how much you fit into every day.” Ok the last one is actually a statement but I really like the sentiment. Perfect tv questions are generally conducive to short conversations that can easily cease the minute Homeland returns.  And then there are other questions. Questions so big that answering them requires turning the television off, boiling the jug and settling in for the long haul.

And so it was when Mr G recently asked “How are you feeling about having another baby?” The long and detailed response I gave then is moot now so rather than mulling the hypothetical I can tell you, at this early stage, how I am actually feeling about being a mother of two gorgeous girls. Lots of words immediately spring to mind. Grateful. Happy. Tired. Lucky. Relieved. Empowered. Did I say tired??? For your benefit I’m going to put my fogginess aside to try writing some actual sentences now because I’m guessing a post full of single, unrelated words would make for uninspiring reading material?

First up, a few weeks ago I celebrated the existence of maternity leave and  it is now time to give a very warm round of applause to its lovely sibling; paternity leave. How any new parent could get through the early days and weeks without a partner on hand is beyond me. If you have done that or know anyone who has please give yourself, or them, a HUGE hug from me and then shout yourself a Chinese massage and a large slab of Rocklea Road. Because you deserve it and more. For now paternity leave means Mr G is on hand in the NABM household for another few weeks which makes for a happy home. It means we have some time to enjoy our new family and get to know the lovely Miss L without the reality of work.  

And let me tell you, in the eyes of her besotted and biased mum, Miss L is just lovely. She is a tiny, soft, sweet and adorable bundle with whom we have fallen utterly in love. I am reliving my awe at newborn babies all over again; I still find it bewildering that anyone’s body is capable of growing a perfectly formed little baby, let alone, my own. And then there is that truly remarkable moment when you meet the tiny person who blossomed in your bump. For me the bond with each of my baby girls wasn’t strong or real until I actually met them. Then it was different; there was a face, a name and a person to whom my love could attach. 

It’s like my heart undergoes a spontaneous, slap-dash renovation and quickly erects a large new wing ready to be filled with love. It’s obviously not furnished or decorated because the finer details of the love are yet to take form but it’s there and it’s lovely. And it grows with every feed, with every stroke of their soft skin, with every bath and every interaction.

Lots of people warned me that having two children is a big step up in terms of logistics. That family life gets very real when the number of children equals, or exceeds, the number of adults in the household. We are at adult to child equilibrium now and whilst I wouldn’t describe it as a leisure lifestyle I will say this; going from one child to two is NOTHING compared to going from no children to one. Bringing Miss I home for the first time was terrifying.  Everything about being responsible for a baby for the first time was daunting. Second time around is different. The task itself isn’t any different – feed, bathe, dress, feed, change, settle, feed and repeat every few hours for a few months – but the angst and fear is no longer a big deal. I guess the fact we are already accustomed to caring for another small person around the clock has helped makes this transition easier*.

Having said that it also means this time we have the adjustment and well-being of another little person to consider which throws a different dynamic in the mix. How Miss I would handle the new addition was something I thought about a lot towards the end of my pregnancy. My thoughts didn’t achieve much but my suspicions that it would probably be one of the harder parts of bringing a new baby home were well founded. Miss I is madly in love with her new sister; her eyes light up when she sees her, she forever asks for cuddles and kisses which she bestows with varying degrees of force affection and she tells her “We’re nearly home L” if we’re in the car and Miss L is crying. It is heart-bursting stuff. But. Remember that see-saw I talk about when looking after little people? That. On steroids. The highs and lows are faster and less predictable than ever before which, funnily enough, creates something of a see-saw for my own emotions.

But so far we are all in one piece and despite the odd bump when the see-saw thrashes us downwards life is a lot like Miss L. Just lovely.   

*For now. Naturally I reserve the right to re-evaluate my views when I am regularly responsible for looking after both girls on my own.

Then three became four...

My dear readers I am thrilled to report that you are in good company. It appears Mother Nature, or at least the purveyor of civilised and no-fuss labours, does in fact read this blog. And best of all she takes requests! So cast your wish below and you might just be rewarded like I was.

On Friday our second darling daughter, Miss L, made her way into this world with minimal fuss and maximum ease. She is completely divine and has already forced me to eat my earlier envious words. Her birth was so calm and straightforward that I found it, err, empowering. Truly! What's even more telling is that since Miss L's arrival i have thought to myself - more than once - that a really bad knee reconstruction would be a lot worse. I kid you not.  Can you believe this is really me???

I sort of can't. For a start it happened two weeks earlier than I expected. Last week when I waxed lyrical about the joy of maternity leave I did not expect the baby bit to kick in quite so soon. At least not consciously.

In hindsight, however, it seems on some level I knew what was coming. When Mr G and Miss I went to visit his family in the country for two days I weighed up my options. Embrace the break and do absolutely nothing or go absolutely nuts on the home front and use the remaining two weeks to slowly get prepared? Now ordinarily when 
faced with two such options I would be horizontal on the couch inhaling rocky road and Vanity Fair faster than you can say bliss. But this time I went with the latter. 

I was possessed; I washed and sorted all the baby clothes, i finalised the last details in the nursery and I then proceeded to attack every corner, cupboard and crevice in our flat with unprecedented fervour. I tidied, I scrubbed, I cleaned, I sorted and I shopped. Nothing was safe. When I found myself outside scrubbing our courtyard  I realised something was odd. I was nesting like a crazy woman.

Mr G and I laughed during my first pregnancy about this whole 'nesting' concept we read about; we both knew it was highly unlikely the affliction would strike me. Ever. And first time around we were right.

This time around we weren't because this time was different. In every single way. From the minute we arrived at the hospital to the moment i had a beautiful baby in my arms, the experience was serene and stress free. An epidural administered at the right time certainly contributed to this but so too did the fact my body seemed to have read up on all the textbooks and followed the steps set out to a tee.

We relaxed while my body did its thing: if you watched video footage of Mr G and I kicking back in the delivery suite I swear you would not guess I was in labour. Well, except for the telltale sign that we were in a delivery suite. We chatted, laughed, read the papers, did sudoku, debated what variety of baby might be joining our clan...and frankly had quite a bit of fun. Seriously. Mr G played with every contraption in the room while I contemplated marrying every person who came in my vicinity.

In my blissed-out state I was ready to marry the anaesthetist, the midwife, my obstetrician and Mr G in one big happy polygamous ceremony. Because all together we were having my baby and we were cool, calm and collected. Mother Nature had picked me!!!

My high was compounded exponentially when everything culminated in the swift and peaceful arrival of a healthy bundle of baby girl. Could this world be any more amazing??? I'm afraid I can't see how. Having any healthy baby arrive in your arms is no small miracle so having two feels akin to winning one of life's great lotteries. And when the second comes with ease? Well that feels like  it was one of the really big mega pick, lottery bonanzas so right now I'm feeling pretty darn lucky.

I had planned on spending some quality time blogging over the next two weeks but obviously that is now most unlikely. Which is a tiny shame because I had a few timely topics I needed to canvass with you - such as how I was feeling before the imminent birth of my second child!! - but alas. For the next  little bit  I'm going to play NABM by baby. If time and mental capacity permits I'll be here with bells on but if not I will be ensconced in baby land. But if you ever want to talk uplifting childbirth stories I am your woman and for that topic I will forever be available.