Yesterday our little family decided to take advantage of the amazing spring weather and embark on a beautiful hike through the Royal Botanical Gardens (RBG). However, the number of times I collapsed onto a convieniently located park bench made me painstakingly aware of the fact that we will be welcoming a new baby into our home in just a few short weeks (technically 8, but full term in 5).
I must say, it's amazing how easily a pregnant body can crap out on you, even when you're feeling great and full of energy! A slight increase in walking pace, a gentle incline or just 5 little stairs was enough to leave me gasping for air. Thankfully though, I had some very understanding hiking companions, who were more than happy to explore nearby sticks and ladybugs and animal tracks and pinecones, while I regained my ability to mobilize and drifted off into thoughtful contemplation...
Eight weeks. Only eight more weeks until we meet this new little bundle of joy. K has seemed so excited to help prep our room for the new baby. He was thrilled to help daddy "build" the crib Saturday, and lucky for him, mummy second-guessed daddy on the construction. So with just two turns of the allen key left, mummy insisted daddy start again from the beginning (his initial build was correct by the way, oops). He was such a big boy, when after crib-construction 2.0, he proudly announced "Bed. New baby. All done!".
But I can't help but wonder, would he be as excited, if he knew how all-encompassing this new baby is going to be? If he fully grasped the amount of sharing he will have to do with his little sister. His mummy, His daddy, His grandparents, they will all be Hers for the taking. Will he be upset with us? Will he be upset with me? Will bringing this new baby home cause irreperable damage to the air tight relationship we've spent 2 full years building?
I cried a little the other night when he asked for daddy to join him in the bath, "No mummy. Daddy sit.". I can't help but wonder if he senses what's going on and is just prepping, both him and I, for the seperation we will inevitably face. I know he's not going anywhere, and I will still be his full-time mum, but it's going to be different so incredibly different, and that's what scares me most (although delivering the baby (regardless of the method) and the first few post-partum weeks, are a very close second). How will it be possible to love this new baby as much as I love the one I already have?
A forceful jab from the inside brings me back. Oh, hey baby. As my heart races with excitement, I can't help but smile as I wonder if that perfectly timed kick was a gentle reminder that I have an infinite amount of love to share.
From across the path I hear a familiar little voice, "Up Mum, Up. Up!", well, I guess I had semi-understanding hiking companions...
As my due date draws nearer, I'm filled with so many different emotions. As a soon-to-be second time mum, I can honestly say that I flip flop between excitement and shear panic about 9 thousand times a day (as I'm sure every mum-to-be does). What frightens me though, is that I would probably flip flop another million times a day if I had more time to stop and think about what being this pregnant with baby number two really means. It's such an exciting time, but I'm so thankful that K keeps me busy, busy, busy. Less time to think means less time to worry, which means more time to soak up the last few weeks as a mummy to one.
Until next time my friends,
-A
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| Toddler pace is a good pace. Clearly D didn't get the memo. |
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| Not so sure about how fast the Lady Bug can skitter. |
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| Waving to Daddy, in our boy-band matchy outfits. |
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| The "nursery", aka the better part of our room (take 2). |
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