The second.

Hunna said to me the other day it was hard imagining what the baby would look like.

When I picture her in my own head all I see is Boy as a baby.

I need to keep reminding myself that she is different.

Her temperament will be different.

In fact, this whole pregnancy - although similar - has been different.

When I was pregnant with Boy it was difficult to picture him at all - of course now when we say his name all we can do is picture his big blue eyes and dead straight dusky blonde hair accompanied by the most exhilarating laugh.

I wonder if she will have the same clarity in her eyes that Boy had as a baby, if her hair will be curly or dark.

I wonder if she will be completely opposite to Boy or fairly similar.

Its strange and wonderful, knowing what we are in for with a second baby.

I'm not sure if I'm glad I know what's happening ( it's definitely cut back on certain anxiety levels ) or if I'm petrified because I know what is about to happen ( ie: I have to give birth again, what were we thinking! )

I think the most comforting thing about having a second Baby is knowing that anything she throws at us will pass.

She will grow out of night waking and nappies.

She will grow to be a big nearly four year old, with a big and wonderful personality of her own.

It was hard when Boy was a baby to see past the newborn mess and savour it knowing he would grow so quickly, because honestly at the time it felt like he was 6 weeks old for an eternity.

People would tell me all the time to enjoy him because it would go by so quickly, but I couldn't relate because I'd never been there.

I'm quietly confident this time around we can relish in the babyness a little more, enjoy the moments and the little things a little more and just let what will be, be.

{ n.b: In the future if I'm severely sleep deprived, don't bring up this post -- it's never a good idea to talk about savouring anything with a sleepy Mumma ..... Seriously, just nod and agree with anything I say when I'm tired or validate that it sucks -- and take the baby.... for the weekend. }

 

Reality.

*Let the hormonal ride continue. One of my pregnancy joys is having no filter.. wait, who am I kidding.. I never have a filter.

It is just way worse when I'm pregnant.

So I've been avoiding the blog because I can't tell if I actually want to say something or if I'm going to be deeply embarrassed later about my hormonal ranting.

---------------------------------------------------

" I want 10 children! " I would exclaim with vigour.

10 children.

And now I think.. Who was that person?

Where have my Christian ideologies gone?

I would be married to the Bishop, I'd be Relief Society President or some other fantastic calling where people beckon me to their side because I'm the only one they need.

I'd be loved and praised and .. and..

My young teenage brain was obviously working overtime on perfecting the ideal Mormon life I thought I needed.

What happened to me? What happened to my rosey view of the world?

The truth is; I don't think my brain was stooped in reality.

There's a few good reasons as to why I chose to ignore reality, and it all came crashing down when I was about 17.

Reality is much harder than fantasy. So...so much harder.

So my brain and I took a Mormon holiday. But life didn't get any better. I didn't get any happier and I realised ( slowly ) that yes, Christianity was the key to my own personal happiness, but I needed to face the facts.

So of course I lowered my number to 5.

A few years ago:

The Candy Man " How many children would you like to have."

Me " Oh.. um five I think, yes five would be nice "

( clearly I was still coming to grips with reality )

And now?

Well, when the nurse asks me what gender the baby is and I tell her she is a girl.

And then the nurse says something like " Oh isn't that great. Now you have a boy and a girl. The perfect family "

I get pregnant annoyed.

Well, yes. I HAD hoped for a girl, but your implication that I wouldn't be happy or have the prefect family if the baby was a boy makes my hormones rage.

And the implication that if this baby was a boy we would go for number three because we would need a girl to be happy or perfect is SO wrong.

Also, your implication as a non-Christian that two is a good amount and we should stop before we are out numbered is sad.

( I swear it was all in her tone of voice and I'm not over analysing her words, it's totally what she meant.)

But yes, since on the surface your shallow words state what I believe is the truth because it's actually MY truth, I'll agree with you. ( because I know you were really just trying to connect with my situation )

And for the record, right now. I can't imagine having number three.

Because I feel like I am not emotionally present enough for the two I am lucky enough to have.

So yes, in the future we might be judged as the Mormon family who only has two children.

And I will probably continue to be asked, over and over, when we are going again - because having two is not the normal 3 or 5 or 10. ( why all the odd numbers ? )

And yes, if we indeed decide that we want to expand later, ( which is possible even after a very long gap due to my age) I'll expect that you don't shake your head and pigeon hole us as the Christians with heaps of kids down the street.

Really. I just want everyone to stop with the pointed comments and questions.

If you think the perfect gap is 18 months between your 5 children then that's great, hurrah for you. Seriously. I commend you - because that would be all types of crazy and hard and I just couldn't do it.

Does that make me less maternal? I don't think so? I want to say no. But in truth I'm probably not that maternal.. I don't really like babies.

Ask Baby Bell.. He'll tell you.

And if you think that 4 years is the perfect gap between your two children, that's great too. Can we be friends? It's exhausting!

What's that - you're Primary President and you don't have any children. Holy Cow! You're super woman. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even myself.

Not anymore.

Because reality is hard and amazing and joyous and depressing and truthfully - all over the place.

Let's hug.

31.5 weeks

Come, come jump on my pregnant hormone train. I promise it'll be wild and unpredictable in a predictably pregnant way.

Today's feelings:

I just wish my pregnant belly would stop making contact with Boys head.

It's truly not his fault his perfect little big three year old head is at the perfect height for my ever burgeoning belly.

I feel like a bad woman driver ( *stereotype not necessarily my true opinion of female drivers ) with no spatial awareness. Even worse it's bad spacial awareness concerning the bonnet. And that's way worse cause the bonnet is in the front, where you can see it.

I pride myself on being a safe driver.

But my bonnet belly seems to bounce off Boys head, no matter if I've forgotten I've actually got a belly or if I'm trying to be super aware I've got a baby belly.

It doesn't discriminate.

But I think poor Boy wishes it could.

I hope I'm not creating some sort of sibling resent before his baby sister is actually even here.

He's even been bumped between my belly and the bench - because of course his head is at perfect bench bumping height too.

Double wham.

Belly, bench.

Ouch.

 

Resolve

It smells like rain. The sweet scent of grass and water swirls through the summer breeze into my lungs.

 

It's been a warm week. Not hot. Just warm. And today the fluffy white clouds of yesterday have disappeared into the sky and a grey din has spread across the shire.

 

The rain, falls gently at first, from within the grey.

 

And the air swirls with action. Change is brewing.

 

It is in the air. It is in the first day of the new year. It is in my heart.

 

I cower. But my lungs take in the scent of the sweet, cleansing rain and I take courage as I look toward the horizon.

 

I want to be free. I want to be the wind as it rolls across the grassy yard and whips the leaves of the trees.

 

And like the wind I will never, ever come back to this moment again.