Them. My two gorgeous girls, gorgeous inside and out.
My two tiny miracles, not medically (unless you count being on the pill both times and under investigation for PCOS first time) but because i never knew i wanted them, never knew I would need them, I would NEVER have been ready to try for a family.
So Bean my happy accident and Bites who we would have tried for October ish instead if having her in October.
I have never questioned my love for, Bean it came hard and fast although not immediately. Not when I saw her lifted from me, not when she was placed onto my chest and certainly not while I was being manhandled during the first breast feeds. That first helpless night, legs still not working (thanks spinal block and catheter) and on an over stuffed under staffed ward I spent the night just me and her, her all tiny and permanently famished tucked inside my hospital issue gown me bewildered and beguiled by this tiny creature. By morning light I knew I would and could do anything for her. I called her my crack baby because I could not get enough of her, charming right?
I thought it would come easier second time round, and I have been beating myself up ever since because it has taken longer for it to come, or has taken me longer to notice it? I don’t know which all I know is that up until this week I have been beating myself up about it. Feeling like she deserves better than me and that I wasn’t a good enough Mum for her, that I don’t know her well enough and I should nearly 5 months in I should know her, she’s my baby after all.
And then it hit me. I do love her, I adore her with all of my being. I do know what she wants and needs, and I have known it all along it’s just I have been putting other things ahead of it and then getting frustrated when she ‘moans’. My priorities were all over the place and I was forgetting to enjoy her and this week I have enjoyed her for the amazing, individual sweet little thing she is. And my love for her cannon balled me and i can’t believe she is five whole months old tomorrow, craziness.
I feel like a weight has been lifted even though I know it’s perfectly normal for the love to take a while, not everyone gets that rush the second they leave your uterus and are placed screaming, angry, bloody, cold and sacred in your arms and that’s ok, really it is. It does not make you a bad Mum it makes your normal, despite the press.