I am Slowly but Surely Mum


Well, she’s arrived.

We were blessed with another beautiful little princess just over 2 weeks ago, and she’s just perfect.

Mini-mini-me was born by elective C-section and we’re happily enjoying getting into some sort of routine at home.   It’s been a crazy few weeks and it really is true what they say…slowly does it.


The suggestion of another section by my consultant had caused me great disappointment.  At 32 weeks, I was told that Baby was very big, already weighing almost 5lbs, and considering my previous section, it would be safer to have an elective section.  After a few days, I conceded that if the consultant said I needed one, then I would listen.

I had honestly wanted to try a natural delivery this time around.  On my way to the hospital the day before, I was nervous. I was terrified that I would have the section and the baby would weigh only 6 or 7lb, and that I would have put myself through surgery unnecessarily.  And despite my very strong feelings about all things Sectioned (see I am Section Mum!), I was worried that I would look silly; that I’d be seen as Too Posh to Push.

Why I was in any way concerned about what people would think of me, I don’t know. But I was.

The experience was just as calm and controlled as I remembered the first one to have been.  Hubby and I were much more nervous this time; probably as we knew exactly what was ahead of me.  A huge difference was that Hubby and Baby were allowed to stay with me in recovery this time.  Last time, I was lying on my own for over an hour, looking manically at a photograph of the baby.  This time, Baby was snuggled on my chest until it was time to return to the ward, with himself right by my side.

As it happens, my consultant made the right call and I’m so glad that I listened to her.

Our second little Princess arrived in the world, ten days early, and weighed in at a tiny 9lb 6oz!  My uterus had been stretched to dangerous extent and had I gone to due date and tried a “proper” birth, things could have been very different.

I got out of hospital on Day 4 which in hindsight, was way too early.  What people don’t consider is that when someone has their appendix out,  they are sent home to rest and  recuperate. Post section, you instantly have a little person to care for, and regardless of the supports you have in place, going home is terrifying.  And when you have other kids at home, sitting with your feet up is impossible.

Throw into the mix a mammy and big sister with chest infections, a Daddy who is trying so hard to be everything to everyone that he pretty much keels over with exhaustion, the post-natal hormones and tears, and the post-surgery pains and restrictions, and you have… the most fun EVER!

Thankfully, the little Princess is an angel.  She’s a very chilled out baby and loves to sleep (so far!) and so the new baby was actually the least stressful thing in the house for the first week.  And now, thanks to lots of antibiotics, multivitamins and a freezer pre-stocked with dinners, our little family is bouncing back and able to finally enjoy the build up to Christmas with our little Christmas pudding and her beautiful Big sis.


The moment two children became sisters

Every shower brings a little bit of this S-Mum back to herself.

Every day brings its new experiences and joys.

Every snuffly  grumble from Baby and every kiss from Mini-Me brings a joy that can’t be measured.

It’s been slow, but it surely is worth every single second.

I am Slowly, but Surely Mum.

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I am Soon to be Mum…again!

Well it’s almost time.

The hospital bags are packed and in the car.

The to-do lists are almost all done.

The house has been wrecked and cleaned to the point that one would be forgiven for assuming that we’re hosting a Station Mass.

The Husband is exhausted (well, he thinks he is!) and the Mini-me is bouncing off the walls with excitement.

And me?

I’m absolutely bricking it.

I think that even after nearly 10 months of being pregnant, (tell me please where the magic number 9 came from?), it only hit me that there’s an actual baby arriving when I opened the box of baby clothes last week to begin washing.  When I lifted the first little vest out of the “0-3 neutral” box, my heart almost stopped.

To me, my Mini-Me is still a baby.  She’s almost 4 and taller than most 5 year olds, but she’s my wee baby.  She’s in pre-school and growing more independent by the day, but she’s only a baby…to me.

As I emptied the little vests and babygrows, I was thrown back in time and could clearly see her brand new little self, dressed in each outfit.  I could even remember the first time she wore some of the outfits;  the oooohs! and aaaahs! of family members when they saw the little outfits on her; how I felt all grown up dressing my real-life Dolly in the adorable pieces.  And it stirred up a barrage of emotions that I really don’t have the words for.

Mini-me is excited about being a Big Sister.  She has been practicing on dolls and we talk about the new baby all the time.  Baby Bubba, (as she calls my belly), is coming to live with us soon.  And while she can’t wait, I’m terrified as she doesn’t quite understand what’s ahead of her.

No longer will she be the absolute, single and only centre of our world.  No longer will the bedtime routine be all about her.  No longer will I be able to read three bedtime stories just because I can.

She’s going to have to learn a whole new set of skills; how to share, how to wait until Mammy or Daddy are able to give her attention; how to be the Big Sister.

big sis1

In one of my hormonal snotfests recently, I admitted to Hubby that my biggest fear is not being able to be mammy to both of my babies.  I’m more afraid of Mini-Me feeling left out or unloved, than I am of giving birth.

I’m afraid of how she’s going to cope while I’m in hospital.  I’m dreading her being told that it’s time to go home at the end of visiting hours.  I’m terrified that she’s going to decide that we’re not keeping the baby! (I have it on authority from another S-Mum that this can happen…)

I’m petrified that she’s going to, at some point, have to stand back and watch another little person getting the attention that she’s always had the monopoly on.

In short, I’m just bloody terrified.

And yet, rational me knows that she’s not the first child to become a big sister.

I’m the eldest of 6 and at no point in my life have I ever felt any of the things that I’m worried she’ll feel.  Having younger brothers and sisters has made me me. It has enriched my life and continues to provide fun every day, even in adulthood!  The companionship and certainty of friendship that siblings provide can never be measured and I know that Mini-me will thrive.

She’s going to be just fine.

big sis2

But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to worry.

I’m pregnant.  I’m emotional.  I’m probably a little teensy bit crazy, but I’m allowed to be.  I’m allowed the odd melt down.  I’m allowed to succumb to absolutely irrational notions that randomly pop into my head.  And anyone who wants to dismiss my fears as nonsense, is either very brave or very foolish. (Or they’ve never experienced being 28 months pregnant!)

And along side all of this crazy, I’m excited.  I can’t wait to finally meet the little munchkin who has been battering my insides so beautifully.  I can’t wait to see if the name we’ve chosen suits.  I can’t wait to see if there’s resemblance to Mini-Me.  I can’t wait to hear their little voice for the first time.  I can’t wait to see Mini-me’s face when she sees a real baby!  (I can’t wait to see my own toes and to no longer have cramps in my arse cheek every 45 minutes…but that’s a whole other post!)

Holding the vest reminded me that inside this abnormally HUMONGOUS and very uncomfortable bump, my next Mini is getting ready to come join in the madness of our home.  They too will wear the little vests and they too will stamp all over our hearts with their tiny wee feet.  They will love the Big Sister unconditionally and will be loved in return.

big sis3

And I can not wait.

I am Soon-to-be Mum. 🙂


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