I haven’t blogged for ages- hello! Mostly because I’ve been quite busy, although not in that usual ‘Sorry Aunty, that I’ve not written to you for 6 months because I’ve been busy’ kind of way that I might have previously tried it on with. This time it’s REAL, because I’ve been moving house, turning 30, starting a new job, doing some exams, being a bridesmaid, becoming a godmother, losing and gaining weight and joining the gym. So genuine busy-ness, thank you very much.
Turning 30 in itself is terrifying, as is being set on fire accidentally, having a savings account at NatWest or asking the tall slim bloke in New Look for a refund. But to me, none of these terrifying things were truly as terrifying as the most terrifying thing in the world. This being, the SECOND CHILD.
After the arrival of the first child, who we’ll call Sonny, because that’s his name, I made a sworn vow to myself, my area of delivery, my mother and my husband that I would never, ever, ever have a second child. This decision was compounded when we got back from the hospital and I realised that I wasn’t the Mum I’d imaged I’d be, which had been a vision in soft focus of flowing cheese cloth, possibly a head band made of daisies; certainly a contented, angelic baby in my arms. In these visions I was almost always floating rather than walking; like some kind of ethereal Mum-ghost. In reality, frankly, I was as far from earth mother as it’s possible to get. Having made my solemn declaration never to procreate again, I got on with doing what I did worst- parenting.
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| One of these is mine, and the other one is my God daughter! |
Watching my friends knock out the second one, or actively try to, whilst I diligently took my pill every day at the same time and all but wrapped myself in Clingfilm when in bed next to Ed, I’d spend less time on the Daily Mail on line and much more Googling any positive news or research that I could find in relation to single child families. FYI, there is loads. I resigned to having one child, a cat, and possible a couple of dogs. I told Ed. He was OK with it. I told Mum. She too was fine with it. Everyone was fine with it. But then I realised that actually, I wasn’t all that fine with it. And then, I went to see my friend in Essex and spent 72 hours in her company, and the company of her 9 week old baby. I was there for every hungry scream, every tired scream, every good-lord-what-is-she-screaming-about scream, and objectively, I thought, I could do this again. I know what to expect now, more or less. I held baby Jess for as long as I could over the 3 days, when she was screaming and when she wasn’t. Of course, it’s easier when it’s not yours, but spending all night and day in the same house as her bought back so many memories. It’s hard, yes, it’s one sleepless night away from impossible. But it’s also incredible.
I want Sonny to have a brother or sister. He’s not going to have any cousins locally, at least not for a while (my brother is 18 and like one of the stars from Geordie Shore, although much less morally guarded) and most of Ed’s family and mine live in the UK. I know now that single kid families are not lonely and unhappy, and wouldn’t be scared if number 2 wasn’t possible, but also I’m not scared to have one either.
I might not be earth mother, but in my opinion, I’m still pretty good at it, so thanks to Baby Jess (and tons of others!) Sonny’s going to have a sidekick. Although not for another couple of years!! And in the meantime, I’m withdrawing my £6.14 savings from NatWest.
