In this week’s blog post, Chantelle from Basking Babies Huntingdon gives her honest and heartfelt account of becoming a mum of two.
There I was fresh out of theatre, my little Beau laid on my chest. I was back in that euphoric bubble of love, overwhelmed with emotion. We’d done it again and after six turbulent weeks of on-off start-stop labour, this 8lbs 7oz bundle of joy was finally here. I was going home as a mum of two.
The bubble was different this time – it was still euphoric and beautiful but there was one person missing from the room. Someone I wanted to share the experience with. I was there having just birthed my second baby, desperately missing my first wondering when we would all be together.
Everything seemed easier this time around, even though I hadn’t really prepared at all.
Running around after a toddler took up most of my time. Any spare time I had, I just wanted to relax and savour the peace before number two arrived. I didn’t nest as much, I didn’t threat as much, and I certainly didn’t prepare as much as I had with my first pregnancy. I did take an incredible hypnobirthing course which I guess counts as very important prep, however all other preparation for this baby came very late into the pregnancy.
What I didn’t find easier was that now there were two. Two little humans who owned my heart – one at home with his grandparents who I missed terribly, and one laid on my chest snuggling. My brain just could not process how I would share this love. It’s not something I’d spoken about with anyone before so I wasn’t prepared for what was to come. I struggled with not knowing how to love both exactly the same amount in the same way, all at the same time. It felt like it was tearing my brain in two.
Day one was complete and we had gotten through the night. The doctor came and – due to a possible condition discovered during pregnancy – decided we’d have to stay in a few more days for important checks to be carried out on Beau. Of course with extra days away from home now forecast came the mum guilt that we all know too well. My big baby was at home away from me and here I was lapping up my newborn, showering him with all the love I could muster. I was happy and sad all at the same time and no one had prepared me for these emotions. Why had this not been mentioned in any of the mummy chats I’d had? Why hadn’t this come up? I just couldn’t understand it.
The evening came and it was time for Beau’s big brother to finally come to the hospital and visit. He was due in with daddy at 5pm and it was all I could think about all day. I can’t explain that feeling of excitement I felt waiting for him to meet his baby brother for the first time.
5pm came and in he walked. He had a suspicious look on his face, almost like he was scared of what was waiting for him. We had spoken about the baby in mummy’s tummy constantly for the past six months. We had bought him books and watched little videos to help him understand what was coming. But he walked in seemingly unsure of what was going on, clutching a bunny he’d brought to give to his baby (his words). I was now so nervous for his reaction.
He walked up to the bed (by this point I’m crying inconsolable happy tears that had been brewing all day just waiting for this moment), hopped up on the bed, propped himself up next to his baby, and said “wow I love him mummy”. His dad and I were so relieved, both of us teary and bursting with pride.
One obstacle overcome, it was the best feeling I’d experienced since meeting baby Beau. I was finally back in euphoric bliss. I’d got to snuggle both my babies together for the first time and kiss their heads side by side. It all felt so perfect.
The first few days home are always the hardest. You’re facing postpartum life head on, you’re trying to manage the healing and feeling the pain at its worst with nothing to help other than paracetamol. You have no real strength and are functioning on next to no sleep. Your milk’s come in, your hormones are causing havoc and you’re struggling. There you go – I said it – I was struggling.
I remember being back in that place of, “how do I love them the same?” and I wish someone had told me that I would feel like this. It wasn’t the case that I was going to automatically be super mum because I’d been here once before. I felt torn, I felt sad, and I felt like I just wanted to be back in hospital with scheduled visits from my 3-year-old so I could share the love in a timely manner, equally, fairly and with preparation. Craving scheduled cuddles, scheduled kisses, and scheduled play, I was sad and scared that I couldn’t do this. I just wasn’t ready even though we’d planned for so long to complete our family. How could I be sad when I had two beautiful boys? Why was I feeling so overwhelmed and unsure?
As the days went on and the healing process continued, the pain eased and we established something of a routine. Things started to fall into place. We didn’t have everything down to a T, but one thing every day felt easier and with that came a better mental state.
Looking back to those very early days I can see the best way to describe it all – I was overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed with love for my boys, sad that they wouldn’t feel that love equally. I was overwhelmed with being back in my normal life but with twice the load, with the feeling of not knowing what to do about any of it and not being able to keep on top of my new normal.
What I did learn was that you may not love your children all the same in the same way. You love them the same amount because that love is unconditional, yet you love them differently because they are completely different little humans. You love them differently and although it might feel taboo to say, it’s perfectly ok.
It’s ok to shut the door on the mess and say “no, not today” just so that you can cope with the important things and stay sane.
Most importantly it’s ok to talk about it all, to admit it all and to experience it all.
We’re 10 weeks in and whilst the initial sadness and overwhelming state I described passed by the time daddy went back to work at just over three weeks, we moved on to face new challenges whilst overcoming others.
There have been shouty mum days, days of staring at washing mounting up and not being able to muster the strength to do anything about it, days of a messy house and an un-emptied dishwasher, stressful days, and days of no make-up and unwashed hair. But I can honestly say I’m finally back to being so very happy. I’m back to being a version of me that ties in well with the mum-of-two me and I’ve learnt to lower my expectations of anything house related.
I shut the door on the mess and the washing gets done when it gets done. Some weeks we eat nothing but McDonald’s and takeaways. Some weeks we get out of the house on time and I even get time to hoover the stairs! My boys are happy, they get the best version of me and that’s what matters the most. It’s what they will remember, not the mess or the mountains of washing.
I’ll end with saying being a mum is the most rewarding yet hardest job in the world. You’re never thinking for just one person again. Once you’ve birthed a child, your brain is constantly thinking for you and the mini versions you have created. Guess what mama – you are only human, it’s ok to admit sadness and to being overwhelmed. It’s ok not to have it all figured out, and it’s ok to live out of a tumble dryer for the rest of your life (just kidding). Every week gets easier and the postpartum days become easier as the weeks go by. Be kind to yourself and shut the door on the mess!
Remember if you’re struggling and it feels like you cannot cope, help is available – be it from a friend, a local support group or your health visitor. At Basking Babies, our inboxes are always open.