All it takes is a back spasm, some painful pelvic separation, oodles of heartburn, and one exhausted Mama to wonder if this second baby was a good idea.
Here’s where I say the stuff you expect me to say, and the stuff I truly mean, but have kind of forgotten these last few weeks: Yes, I am excited. I am thrilled to welcome a new little one into the family. Yes, I remember the magic and amazingness of carrying this little wiggly wonder every time I feel a kick. Yes, I realize how very fortunate we are. I love the little Plum Baby in my belly. I am glad we made this choice, and the universe complied.
Okay, now that that’s over…
I’m kind of stressing out here.
The anxiety dreams have started. They include selling the gold post in my dental crown. Leaving Mr. Pickle Pumpkin in the car for hours. World annihilation. Nuclear winter. You know, happy stuff.
I feel, like most moms I think, like I’m running on fumes a lot of the time. Like I’m forever searching for that elusive thing called balance. I know I can handle two. I know people handle more. I know people handle a lot more… with far fewer resources and much less support. But it doesn’t mean it isn’t scary for me. I know I sound like a whiner. But today, I’m just… so… tired.
I’m just finally getting the hang of one little doodlebug. We’ve got a little routine going. He’s turned into such a neat human. Now I’ve got to meet and learn and know a new little person? A new, very needy little person who will undoubtedly be routine-less for a long time? Sounds daunting.
I still have no idea how we’re going to pay for kiddo-care. Mama’s got to work if we want health insurance. But quality childcare – even part-time – is a huge budget item. A budget buster, really. How am I dealing with this? I’ve decided the best course of action is to put my fingers in my ears, close my eyes, and yell “LA! LA! LA! I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” really loudly. That will make the whole budget buster problem go away, right?
I’m a little more worried about all the medical stuff that can go wrong this time around. I’m not any more aware of the complications than last time, but this time around I’m already a mom and there’s a kiddo here I worry about leaving motherless when I decide to really let myself consider the worst case scenarios (which thankfully, isn’t too often.) It is just a little scarier this time around.
So I’m trying to figure out how to relax, and – like The Beatles and then my own mama always says – “let it be.” I’m open to suggestions…