Week 16 – Anxiety

I’m writing this post from New Zealand, on a brief little family holiday before the arrival of #2.

My son is chasing a balloon on the grass outside our apartment and I’m thinking about my little foetus, wondering how on earth it’s possible for two miracles to occur. Can I really be so lucky to give birth to another healthy, chubby-cheeked cherub again?

There’s no reason why I shouldn’t. But talking to other mums, there seems to be a universal thought that perhaps we are tempting fate by heading down the bumpy road to parenthood once more

That’s not the end of my anxieties. Lying next to my son, patting him off to sleep with a lullaby and looking at the wispy blond tendrils of hair curl next to his perfect ear, I am scared that even if this second baby is perfect, that there is no way I can love it as much as I love my first. Even the pregnancy still feels abstract at this point. Sure, my stomach is swelling and I’ve seen the ultrasound, but a pesky anterior placenta is blocking any kicks that will constantly remind me of the squirming little creature I carry inside.

This is another common anxiety and really has no rational basis. We are able to love our parents, siblings, friends, partners… why can our hearts not stretch to accommodate another child?

I know from experience that the bond may not occur the minute the baby is born. Even though you know you would protect your little bundle with your life, actual love can take weeks, even months to develop, as Lisa Emmerich wrote about for Babble only last week.

So I’m hoping that even though my first and I will share a special, knowing bond, that some time in the hectic days and weeks after the birth of number two there will be a point I’ll gaze into his or her eyes and feel that magical rush of emotion that signals he or she is mine.

And until then I’m just waiting for that first kick.