I’ve heard time and again that love isn’t divided—it’s multiplied. No matter how strong the bond you share with your first baby, you’ll be overwhelmed by an immense wave of love at the mere sight of your new little one—believe me.
With the arrival of baby #2, it wasn’t so much the division of love that worried me, but rather the division of time. Because time—don’t even think about it—it doesn’t multiply. Okay, except maybe on certain nights when your exhaustion level is bordering on the unimaginable and your little ones have conspired to be as rowdy/noisy/irritable—let’s just say, unbearable—as possible. Then, you might feel like the minutes are stretching out endlessly until that fateful bedtime. #FreeAtLast.
A baby is easy to handle. You devote all your time to them. My oldest daughter spent most of her time in our arms, was stimulated beyond measure, and had every lullaby imaginable sung to her—every one you can find on YouTube. When she was awake, I was 100% hers. We could take the time to take our time. Laughing, playing, having fun, learning—that was our daily life.
So when I found out that our second little treasure was on the way—just six months after my first daughter was born—I was both happy and anxious. I was afraid I’d have to neglect my older daughter and wouldn’t be able to devote as much time to my new baby as I had to my first.
All my worries were becoming a real headache. I was getting swept up in a whirlwind of fears, guilt, and endless questions: Was I being selfish for wanting a second child so soon? Will my 15-month-old resent me for not being there for her as much? Will she understand that this “intruder” in the house is actually her little sister and that she also needs care? Will my daughters suffer because of my clumsiness in trying to divide the 24 hours of the day more or less equally between them?
So many questions and so few answers. I could easily imagine the worst, but only time would provide the answers. Between my bouts of anxiety, I tried to be reasonable. I wasn’t the first person to have children close in age, so it was possible. I had to be able to pull it off. A little organization and I’d be all set… Hmm, except that organization really wasn’t my strong suit—oops!
Then, the big day arrived. I gave birth to our second daughter exactly 15 months and one day after our first was born.
Just as I’d feared, it wasn’t easy—and it still isn’t always easy today, almost six months later.
There’s this constant sense of urgency that’s always with me. The urgency to be with one when I’m with the other. The urgency not to miss any of the important moments that could happen at any second. The urgency to give 110% so that neither of them goes without anything.
There’s this nagging guilt that’s never far away. The guilt of not being able to divide my time equally between my two little gems. Of not having the time or energy to do all the games, activities, stimulation, and learning I’d like to. Of having to, reluctantly, set aside one of my daughters—who’s just asking to be cuddled and comforted—to meet the other’s needs.
There’s also that performance anxiety lurking in the background. Yeah, because on top of struggling to divide the time—which is always in short supply—between our kids, we have to find a little more time for household chores. Because, you know what I mean, the house has to be at least somewhat clean! And a mom on maternity leave is supposed to have time to do it all, right? 😉
Not to mention all the pressure we put on ourselves about our kids’ development. Why isn’t he walking yet? Is he saying enough words? Shouldn’t he be potty-trained by now? We scour the internet to make sure our kids “fit” the mold, and we kick ourselves when they don’t.
So, little by little, I’m getting the hang of life as a mom of two. Yes, I’m clumsy. Yes, I’m often disappointed in myself. Yes, when I’m at the end of my rope, I often lose my patience. Yes, sometimes I yell, and I regret it. It’s the stress coming out, despite myself.
No, I’m not a perfect mom. No, I’m not always the mother I aspire to be: calm, patient, organized, always in control of the situation. But no, I’m not a bad mother. I’m learning a little more every day. I’m trying out different approaches to find the one that works best for our little team, our family.
Until I find the magic formula for being as “on time” as a stopwatch, I’m trying to focus on quality rather than quantity. Because deep down, that’s what really matters after all: love.
For me, 2017 will be the year of letting go. A wonderful challenge. And you—were you overwhelmed by the arrival of baby number two?
Marie-Christine