Number 2?

A couple of months after my daughter was born I turned 34, amidst the new-born chaos I would regularly think about having another child, not because I wanted to or that it was even an imaginable reality but, due to my age, I thought if I wanted more children I should really get a rig-along! I considered 33 an excellent age for a baby; I hadn’t given any consideration to the second until after the first had arrived. Now my daughter is 18 months old and the thought of being pregnant and starting the whole process again does not appeal! But this is the perfect time, right? 

I have been back at work since January, 3 days a week which has been a fantastic break and so nice to be back in the working world. In May I went away with a friend to Ibiza for 3 days to an all-inclusive and Erin and her Dad were totally fine without me and I had an amazing and relaxing time which made me realise that I can be free again (occasionally) - amazing! The thought of starting the pregnancy/new born 2 year roller coaster now does not appeal and even feels like a bit of a sentence. 

Relaxing in Ibiza

Towards the end of my 14 months of maternity leave (too long for me in hindsight) in the thick of winter, the mundane solitude coupled the daily highs and lows of rearing a small, highly energised and passionate child were, quite frankly, very depressing. Being back at work had made the time spent with my daughter so much better and more valued and a fantastic rest from the napping, washing up, laundry, tidying, feeding cycle. Also it has only really been a few months since things have got much easier as the new-born chaos subsided with more and more highs and less and less lows.  Me and my partner have been able to spend more time out socialising and on fitness and get some things back for ourselves to enjoy. I couldn't imagine doing it all over again now.

When my daughter turned one I decided to stop thinking about it, as in my mind it would be something I felt I had to do but didn’t want to. I realised that, other than the self-inflicted age pressure, I had just always presumed, like most people that I would have two children one day, but of course it wasn’t a legal requirement. I had also presumed when a teenager that I would be super successful, have a big house and loads of money with said two kids before I reached the ancient mile stone of 28 and after all that never worked out. Don’t get me wrong I haven’t written it off, I have decided I will review this situation between Erin turning two in December and me turning 36 in February. And in the back of my mind is if it’s not next year it will be never.

Just the two of us

Read more on this in 'An only child?'

                                     

Baby Brain

Baby brain didn’t really kick in for me until about a year after I had my daughter. I had become quite distracted by my impending return to work. Within a 3 week period I had dinged the car twice (after driving for 18 years without a scratch and 10 of those in London). It was, of course, not my fault. The first was the fault of a floor to ceiling cement pillar in a basement shopping centre car park, the second was the fault of a stationary vehicle waiting to pull out of a junction – get out of my way goodammit. During this period I had also spent 24 hours looking for my door keys which were usually, if not on the kitchen bench, hanging in the front door when I eventually found them in a rubbish bag in the wheely bin out the front of the house.

Also during this 3 week period I had emptied the contents of the bathroom bin into the washing basket, poured grapefruit juice onto my cereal and moisturised my legs with shampoo (it really doesn’t absorb well). I was becoming a hazard to myself and possibly society when behind the wheel of a car. It was quite scary and did knock my confidence a little as it felt like I was loosing control.

The early signs of baby brain

Luckily my brain seemed to still function as bc (before child) when I returned to work and perhaps my return also haulted the crumbling decay of my brain cells as, thankfully, I regained control and was far less distracted all the time. Is this inevitable brain decay when looking after small children or just coincidental that it is coinciding with the aging process? Before I know it I’ll be calling my partner 3 different names of various family members including the cat before getting his right.

A big baby

Erin weighed in at 9lbs 9 ozs, unlike some women I knew who got sent on growth scans whilst pregnant as they seemed to be measuring on the large side, I – thankfully - had no idea until she arrived. Knowing she was a whopper (out of 100 babies only 2 would be born bigger) pre birth would have more than added a little to the apprehension of labour. Amazingly thanks to 8 weeks of perineal massage and an amazing mid wife I had no stitches! I consider this one of the biggest achievements of my life.  I thought this was all I needed to worry about and if I got away with no stitches I would be jogging out of the hospital with a yoga mat under my arm.

Despite reading a lot around pregnancy and birth and doing an NCT course (stop reading now if you are pregnant with your first child) I had no idea of the enormity of labour and its array of after effects. As well as feeling like I'd be repeatedly punched in the fanny, my pelvic floor had also had a pummelling.  I only had to think 'oh yes I need the toilet' the day after and I weed myself. Luckily I was wearing a massive maternity pad for the continuous bleeding six weeks after birth - luckily. Even now 18 months on I wouldnt be 100% confident doing a star jump.

5 days over due (3 days before Erin was born)

Isn’t the second baby usually bigger than the first? I didn’t touch caffeine during my pregnancy as I read it can lead to a low birth weight, maybe if I drink it if I become pregnant again I would have a more average sized baby? Or perhaps a planned c-section would be wise. Any advice from a fellow giant baby maker gratefully received!