Second Baby 


In a few short weeks (give or take) I will become a mum to not one but two littles. I’m excited, I’m over-joyed, I'm knackered.

And I’m absolutely bricking it.

I know I should be thinking it’s easy, I’ve done it before, I’ve got the puke stained t-shirt.

But I’m scared.

I’m scared for two big reasons. The first is that I know the heart-exploding horror of having a newborn: the awe, the sleeplessness, the full body love, the postpartum night sweats, the smell of their perfect wee heads and the unbridled fear of going to the toilet.

In just a few short weeks I will become

When one becomes two…

I’m not rewriting the Spice Girls number one. 

That song is, technically, how we got here in the first place!

It is both  the best of times and the darkest of times (because most of them are at night).

With our first child, no matter how much people tried to tell us, we had no idea what was coming. I didn’t believe folk when they told me I would be more sleep-deprived than I was when I was pregnant. 

"I’m the most tired I’ve ever been, though", I scoffed in my head; not understanding that tiredness without children is pretty darn dreamy compared to tiredness with!

Now I know.

I know how amazing and how amazingly hard it is to be a mother. That this wee one will have to learn who they are and I will have to learn to be their mum. That it will all look like nothing; changing nappies and a wee bit of milk: easy peasy stay at home mum. When actually you are creating a whole world for a whole new person.

And, that’s the other reason I’m scared: I am already someone’s whole world. Will having another child change the way I feel about Indy? Not lost but less, perhaps? I’m scared that somehow my heart will be halved.

I know there will be two of them and only one of me.

I could barely look after myself when Indy was born, how on earth will I be able to care for a newborn and a spirited toddler? Will I be so tired and stressed out that I’ll always be pushing her away and grunting ‘okay’ when she asks to watch Peppa Pig (so, basically all day)? Right now, although Indy is becoming more and more demanding as a burgeoning dictator / toddler, I feel like I have things under control. We have a brilliant time together, she’s my buddy, I’m her fall guy. It’s her and me, me and her.

I know this new baby will change all that.

I also know that these thoughts aren’t entirely new, they’re different fears from the first time round but they’re fuelled by the same things that worried me right before Indy came along; fear of change, hormones, love for my children (eek!) and yet more hormones, which could explain why I have pretty much cried my way through writing this column.

The one thing I might not know is this baby - although it’s whacks to my ribs and endless Samba on my bladder do mean we’re pretty chummy - but what I do know, despite all my fears, that when push comes to shove (which it will do in the next few weeks) I will love them and Indy will love them and we will be a family of four.


And we will work it out.

Plus, they say three’s a crowd. Surely four will just be a (all night) party!