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I always wanted three children. I wanted them spaced two years apart, just like myself and my siblings. A neat little family, one-two-three. I could already picture them in my mind.
Our first-born was a little baby boy. Perfect. An angel. So quiet and so sweet! I looked at his sleepy face and thought to myself, this is so amazing, I might even have four, perhaps five babies.
You know what's coming, I'm sure. Yes, just few short weeks later, the mere thought of having another baby made me panic. My chest would constrict and I would start to shake ever so slightly. Two children? I don't think so. Three children? No way. For more than a year, I felt this way. Every time I had my period, I sent a quiet, embarrased little “thank you” heavenwards for giving me one at least more month of grace.
But then one day, when my son was fourteen months old, I suddenly pictured myself with another child – my son and my baby. The thought came totally out of the blue, but I could see myself quite clearly with my new baby in my arms, my son playing next to us on the carpet. It had taken me fourteen months to reach this point. (It took me another four months to get used to the idea and actually getting pregnant again. And thankfully, pregnancy lasts nine long months, giving me an age gap of just over two years.)
When you have a young baby, it is natural to NOT be able to imagine – or even to shudder at the thought of – having another baby. I believe this is nature's way of spacing our children far enough apart to be looked after well. To not have too many crazy-tired mothers with a baby on every hip.
When I was expecting my second baby, I came upon new worry: how on earth will I be able to love another child as much as my first? It is simply not possible. My heart was already bursting with love, it cannot possibly hold more love of this intensity. I started asking around (not forgetting that I am my parents' SECOND child…). One wise mother who had many, many children, told me something so simple and yet so profound that I needed to ask around no more. She said, “With every new child, you grow a whole new heart.” After having and loving three children, I can testify that this is true. Each love is new, each love is different, and each love is as deep as love can go.
When my little daughter was born, people immediately assumed that our family was complete. Boy. Girl. Whatever reason could there be to have more? I deeply resented this assumption. There was no doubt in my mind that I would have another child. But my daughter was such an exceptional child, needing such exceptional mothering, that I began to realise that three little ones spaced two years apart would not be such a good idea after all. I needed just a little more time. Just another three months. No, six. Make that twelve.
Seven years passed. I finally persuaded myself and my husband that the time was ripe. NOW. I became pregnant immediately.
It was divine.
When my third baby was very small, I could not believe that this would be the last time I would go through this magic. I loved every minute so much I wanted every day twice over. I mourned the fact that she was growing up so fast; I wished I could stay longer in this cocoon of bliss. I could not imagine NOT having another baby, ever. If anyone asked me, “So is this your last baby?” I had to force myself to say, “Yes.” But I couldn't help adding, “I wish I could have another!” I wondered if I would ever be cured of my intense broodiness. This longing for another baby. The sense of emptiness at the thought of not experiencing this again. I resigned myself to feeling this empty ache in my heart every day for the rest of my life. Or at least until I had grandchildren.
My youngest will soon be four. My heart doesn't ache every day anymore. The longing for another baby gradually seeped into my depths. I suddenly hear myself saying that I'm not having more children, that I am “done”. I adore small babies and I will probably always adore them, but it seems I have finally outgrown the longing for another one of my own. I never thought it would happen, but it did, and surprised me with its finality. I am also surprised that I don't feel sad about this change in myself. My arms and my heart are full, my circle of children is complete, and this is the way it was always meant to be.
Preparing yourself and your child:
Rest as much as you can while you are pregnant – your days are numbered.
Avoid moving your child out of his room or cot or pram to make way for the new baby. Borrow stuff from friends for the new baby, who won't care much where he sleeps (as long as it's in your arms).
Don't pottytrain just before or after your new baby. Having two children in nappies is less work than having one in nappies and one weeing all over the house.
I made a little book for my son to prepare him for his sister's birth – it's not that hard! Draw some pictures if you can (stick people will do!), and describe in some detail how things will happen when it's time: he will stay with granny, mum and dad will go to the hospital, baby will be born, he will come and visit, then everyone will come home. Read this story every night.
Let him say good morning and goodnight to baby while you are pregnant.
Buy a present for him which you can pretend comes from the new baby.
Get your toddler used to going to a playgroup or creche if you haven't done so already. No guilt!! You will need some hours of rest when the baby arrives.
A friend of mine suggests that you always talk about your toddler's baby, not your baby, to make him feel less jealous and left out.
Remember that your first child is still a small child, and treat him as such, even if he seems fifty times bigger than your new baby. Relative to the new baby is huge, but before the baby, he was your baby.
Someone once said, imagine if your husband came home one day with a sweet little woman, and told you, this is my new wife, she is coming to stay with us, and even though she screams a lot and I will spend more time with her and less time with you, I want to you to be nice to her all the time… Now you can begin to imagine what your toddler may initially feel.
If your toddler says he wants to take the baby back to the hospital or that she is a pain and that he hates her, resist the urge to correct him and scold him. Rather agree with him by saying, “Yes, you are right! Babies can be a real pain! They cry and poo and can't even talk or play nicely. But see what a wonderful boy you became, and you also started out as a baby.”
Initially the arrival of a new baby has no benefits for the first child, he is getting a raw deal all round. But remember that the benefits just come a little later. When the baby is bigger, he will have a companion. My first two children are 13 and 11, and are still best friends, whereas my laatlammetjie has missed out on the friendship of a close sibling.
Learn to ask for and accept help.
Be kind to yourself, be patient, and remember it's OK to lose it now and then.
Go slow. Life will look like a blur most days, but just keep breathing and remember to keep some Rescue Remedy in the house!
© Erica Neser-Nieuwenhuis. Erica is the author of Baby Sleep Guide. See www.adept.co.za/~erica for more info.
