Lately I read so many mummy blogs and most of them I love. Some are so funny it cracks me up and some describe raw motherhood with all its ups and downs and I can say as a mum I relate to most of them. I feel their joy whenever their little one done something new and I feel their pain when they talk about being sleep deprived, loneliness, panic and despair. I suffer with them when financial struggle come up and curse the maternity pay. Before I had Ruby I thought I knew enough about babies. I was confident I can raise one with my eyes closed. And than came the munchkin and I realised I am far from knowing anything. I was clueless. I learned how to dress a new born watching a YouTube video and bathing one from another video. I learned how to feed my baby while falling asleep with her in my arms and I recognised all signs of growth spurt from the NHS website or mummy forums that I found very helpful. Slowly slowly I became more and more confident that I can do it. I still have clueless moments, I still panic whenever something out of our routine happens, i still make a drama out of every cough and sneeze and I am far from remembering what a good night sleep feels like and I survive on coffee and wine. Caffeine kicks in and I can only feel the rush for five minutes after which I wouldn’t say no to another one and than another until it’s the right time to upgrade to wine. I get so grumpy sometimes I don’t recognise myself and I suffered from post natal depression that took me on the edge of sanity.
I always wanted just one child and when people told me I would definitely want another I only had one thing in my mind: “NO f-ing way”. I didn’t want to go through that craziness again, I rejected even the idea and I found everyone absolutely insane for even suggesting it. For so much time I was dreaming of Ruby growing up and me sleeping an entire night without any worries. Plus I always thought I could never share my love between two or more children. I didn’t wanted to have my favourite baby and be unfair with another. I wanted to have only one and that would have my undivided attention and I could offer him/her absolutely anything he/she might want in life. I could make their dreams come true and life would be perfect. I even saw myself twenty years from now having her all grown up and me and Kris happy near a fire place in our quiet house.
When we started buying things for Ruby’s arrival we realised how expensive everything is and how many things you need for that tiny human. We started from zero so we had to buy the bed, changing table, mattresses for both, toys, clothes, play mat and some other things you don’t actually need that much but when one doesn’t know prefers to over stock. I struggled and I hated my last pregnancy trimester. I hated being so big and all swollen, I hated constantly being in pain and not being able to move or sleep, I hated the wait and the stupid hormones turning me into a ticking bomb. I only wanted to meet my baby so I fought with all of the above and tried so hard not to go crazy. I survived with a hot water bottle attached to my back and bouncing on a gym ball. And finally the day came and I met little Ruby. And that was the most beautiful day of my life and as I was holding her I completely forgot about all I hated. I was full of so much love, such strong I could never imagine existed. And for the first three months everything was so hard but getting more and more amazing by the day. It’s been six months now and I can say she makes me so happy. All bad things are somewhere in the back of my mind and some I can’t even remember. She is a little princess who will give me so much work when she will be a toddler. I can imagine the tantrums but all I can say is that I don’t care.
I might sound insane but I want another one. I want her to have someone to rely on and take care of. I want her to have a brother or a sister and I am so positive now I could never ever love one more than the other. I would just be filled with more love and those sleepless nights, hormones running around taking over me, those aches and pains will only be with me for nine months after which I will forget. I might go insane and never have peace in my life, I might have moments when I will definitely curse my life and my decision, I will swear day and night, have more coffee and as much wine as I can without becoming an alcoholic, I will be so tired I will probably fall asleep while eating if I will remember what food is, I will probably have only one friend who would be able to stand all the noise in my life and I will most definitely wish I was dead quite often. These are all most likely to happen in my life once having another baby. But the thing is right now, while I write this and hold my sleeping munchkin in my arms I just know for sure I want to experience all this again. I want all the baby stages again. It might sound selfish but I want to feel I am needed. I want to have that helpless little bundle of joy depending on me completely. And I want to see how he/she will develop and form his/her personality and how my arms are always busy and my back in such pain I don’t want to move. I want to have it all again and cry tears of joy before cursing my life. I want my house to be noisy, full of giggles and sometimes insane cryings over some stupid toy or God knows what. I want to sometimes lose my mind so I can just see their faces and smile filling my heart with love.
Am I crazy for wanting this? Am I addicted to chaos and pain? Is there anything wrong with me? Or is it all normal and I am just freaking out with my new discovery?
SONG OF THE DAY: hmmm…not sure. might not be on everyone’s taste but i love it so enjoy