Becoming A Mom of Two
Friday marks six weeks with our newest addition and I can’t believe its gone by so fast.
I learned rather quickly with MM that what they say is true: The days are long, but the years are short. Cliché, yes. But clichés exist for a reason. And in this part of our journey, where so much has changed, that remains the very same.
It has taken me some time to sit down and write this piece about our transition from a family of three to a family of four, because the transition has taken us- has taken me- some time. More than I had thought it would; more than I would like to admit.
There are benefits to having children four years apart: I don’t have to change two sets of diapers. My oldest can make herself a snack, and can grab me a burp cloth, and is often caught soothing her baby sister when I can’t get to her fast enough. I don’t need a double stroller, or two cribs. When we got pregnant, our hands were free and our bodies were rested; just like they were when we got pregnant the first time.
But it’s also true that, in those four years between pregnancies, just enough time had passed that I had forgotten what this newborn fog is really like- what the fourth trimester can bring, both good and bad. And, in some ways, six weeks ago I became that first-time mom all over again.
Except this time I was eager and anxious- to get back to our routine; to feel “normal”.
I didn’t give myself the grace I did the first time around. I was hard on myself- for feeling like a rookie in a world where I should know better; where I should get back into jeans and be dressed for drop-off and get back to writing and go to events and feel pulled together just a few weeks after bringing a human into this world.
And it took some time to settle into the idea that what our life looked like before Lila- that comfortable, familiar version of normal- didn’t return overnight; and it probably won’t.
But another version of it- one that is bigger and more colorful and even more beautiful in its own way- is emerging. One that looks a little less pretty and a whole lot more tired at the moment; but is growing into our new normal. Every day. And it’s worth every exhausted morning and sleepless night; every ache and pain; every frustrated moment and spit-up stained shirt. Every extra cup of coffee or glass of wine we need to get by.
So I’ve decided to treat myself like that new mom I was four years ago, with our MM:
To be patient and forgiving; to let the house get messy; to stay in pajamas some days and get showered and dressed on others. To remember it’s OK to laugh and cry and to ask for help when we need it. To love motherhood and my babies while simultaneously not loving this newborn phase. And to find the JOY, even in those tough moments; because now we know all too well just how fast it all flies by.
And how unbelievably worthwhile it all is.
