Saturday, 18 February 2012

Not again... surely...

G and T - 26 months  M - 4 months

Most days, it's a relief to collapse into bed. Don't get me wrong, my girls are so much fun. But there are a lot of them. And they are rather full-on. I love being a mum, but it is beyond exhausting. Then at 3am the other night, while feeding M and desperately trying not fall asleep in my chair (NB this is a feat I rarely manage at the moment. It is bizarre how soundly you can sleep for an hour upright and pinned awkwardly under an infant), I caught myself staring wistfully at her tiny little feet. They are just so perfect. Such flawless little miniature versions of my own. And I felt something. A stirring. So soon, those feet will be allowing her to crawl, to walk around, to play, to go to school... They'll grow into, you know, just feet. I love baby feet. I love babies. I'll miss having a tiny baby. No! What the hell was happening to me?! I must have finally been driven mad. Was I actually considering doing this again? Already?? Thankfully, I think this time the memories are clearer. I always wanted two kids, nice and close together. Then along came G and T, one minute apart. You don't get closer than that. But I soon began to realise I not only wanted two children, I wanted two goes at the experience. Being pregnant, giving birth, having a tiny, helpless bundle to care for. I'd say it took two weeks of being pregnant with M before it all came flooding back to me. I hate being pregnant. 'Morning' sickness only aptly named if it refers to feeling sick from one morning all the way to the next, bone-crunching exhaustion, insatiable hunger... and don't get me started on the contractions. Nope, common sense will out this time. I'm done. I've had fertility treatment and conceived naturally, carried twins and a singleton, had a C-section and given birth the old-fashioned way. What is there left to do? This time, I won't fall for nature's old amnesia trick. I will enjoy every new development with my girls, and savour the memories. You won't catch me shopping for billowy tops and stretchy-waist jeans again. Or heading to Mothercare for tiny little sleepsuits to cover those perfect little feet... Those tiny, perfect little feet.... Hmm, I wonder what it's like to carry a boy...