Yes, I’m huge. Thank you for telling me this repeatedly for the last 6 months. Sorry I still don’t have a great response for it (“Thanks!”? “Okay!”?). Yes, there are still 4 weeks to go until the due date. Yes, I’m sure it’s not twins.
When I was pregnant with Moses, I finished my exams in June, went on a babymoon in Byron with my besties, spent the following week house-sitting/freezing in Exeter with Alan, and then for the next almost-nine heavy weeks I did absolutely nothing but go to appointments and sleep and read and wait and prepare for the baby to arrive. This time I have a toddler. He doesn’t sleep in. He’s not into pottering around. He loves playing tip.
When I was pregnant with Moses, I was told that when the baby slept, I should sleep. This time I’ve been told that when the baby sleeps, I should spend time with Moses. Yesterday, comparing the two made me cry; I just wanted to lie down. And not move. For a very long time. The day before yesterday, I was on a Woot!-Bring-it-on! high. Today I’ve been listing all the other mums I know who’ve survived having more than one child, which just so happens to be all of the mums I know who’ve had more than one child. This is reassuring. It means that no matter how I feel, having two children probably won’t kill me.
I‘m hoping that the cycle will start over again tomorrow and I’ll be on a high again.
I’ve been making the most of the gorgeous weather by washing baby clothes and baby car seat covers and baby bedding. Baby stuff is really small. Like, super small. Just sayin’.