You may have noticed that I have been a little quiet on the blog front. I decided to take a week or so off from writing as I caught up on, well everything. I’ll admit at 30 weeks I’ve been pushing myself too hard and have felt exhausted to the point of willing myself into a coma. Not to repeat myself, but I’m not made for pregnancy and find that I’m really struggling this time round. On the flip side, its gone a lot quicker than last time and the final countdown has crept up on us. But because we’ve only single digit weeks to wait until Little Bean arrives, I can’t help but feel anxious over the fact that I haven’t bonded with bump and that I have nothing ready for her. Oh how different pregnancy number two really is.
Initially, when I suffered the first trimester bleeding, I felt an instantaneous bond with Little Bean as I worried and worried and worried about whether we were going to lose her. As Christmas approached, I relaxed as the bleeding eased off, and life with A took back over and the fact that I was pregnant became an inconvenience at times to our ordinary days which are busy and never quiet.
When I was pregnant on A, I took the week by week photos, I rested when I needed to (a lot), I planned and we had her room all ready, decorated and stocked by the time I was six months pregnant. We were prepared, physically perhaps not emotionally but that would explain our Siege Mentality when she came along.
I feel sad that there are no week by week countdown photos of Little Bean’s bump. I feel sad that neither I nor B, hold the bump to excitedly feel kicks or use a stethoscope like last time to hear her heartbeat. I feel sad that her bedroom is still a junk room and while I have plans to do it up, they get pushed back a week, every week. I feel sad that I don’t have little conversations with her as I walk down the street alone with just her. I feel sad that I don’t get asked as much about the bump and the little personality that is in there as much as I was asked on A. I feel sad that I haven’t bonded with her and that I don’t imagine what it will be like to hold her, and kiss her and love her.
The truth is, that the time is not there for me to switch off and concentrate on her as I did with A. I’m usually rushing for the bus and worrying if I’ll miss it, meaning we’ll be late home and the evening routine with A will become a nightmare. I’m usually tired as the day’s are so busy and exhausting. Or I’m usually sick, as morning sickness has not fully left me, although it’s better than when I was pregnant with A. I’m usually busy, flitting about, sorting out clothes for the week, load after load of washing or cleaning the kitchen, putting away toys or playing with toys as I can just about stay on the floor with A a short while and play with her. And a million other things that distract me from the fact that I am actually very, very pregnant with Little Bean who will take over our lives as much as A has. I know I sound like a broken record and a million women have been there before me. I didn’t expect this pregnancy to be the same but I didn’t think I’d feel as distant and the mechanical about the whole process as I do.
I haven’t stopped long enough to cherish the fact that I’m pregnant. I haven’t paused to appreciate that she’ll be here in no time.
I want to imagine what she’ll be like, not worry about how A will react when she meets her little sister. I want to excitedly wait for her and treasure the kicks and the somersaults, not grimace as the jab is unexpected and hurts because I’m attempting to pick up sequins which have fallen on the floor. I want B and I to talk to her and tell her that we love her before we’ve even met her. I want to feel the nervous excitement we felt the first time round, not worry about the impending sleepless nights and how our lives and routines will change, because of course they’ll change and don’t we know it!
But the second pregnancy can’t be the same as the first.
I know I will bond with Little Bean when she nestles into my arms and I whisper in her ear that I love her. I know I will cherish her moments and her smiles. My expectation is that I would have already felt this love for her, but right now, the bump is sore, my back is sore, my legs are sore, I’m tired, and the jabs hurt. I can’t see past the tiredness and the pain and I can’t say that I am doing it all for her, because while I’m suffering, I’m caring for Little Bean’s older sister who admittedly I didn’t feel I bonded with until she was six months old.
In 9 weeks or so, our lives will have changed again. In 9 weeks or so, I can forgive myself for feeling sad that I haven’t enjoyed this pregnancy, that I haven’t enjoyed or looked forward to when the Little Bean becomes a Little person, and I can forgive myself for not bonding with the bump because bonding with the baby is so much more important. For all three of us.
But right now, I feel sad that that bond hasn’t happened.