Lucky Second Child0
The Freedom of The Second Pregnancy
“Have you even gotten your bloodwork done yet?” my doctor recently asked at my twenty-four week prenatal appointment. “Poor second child,” she joked as I shook my head in mock shame. In some ways it’s probably true– poor second child. By this time in my pregnancy with my first, I was practically done with decorating his nursery. My well-worn copy of What To Expect When You’re Expecting lay on my bedside table and was read and highlighted religiously. I researched car seats, read reviews of cribs, and insisted on organic everything. Poor second child. We aren’t going to get a room ready for you until you’re actually ready to move into it. Even though you’re a girl, you’ll sit in your big brother’s very “boy” car seat. I haven’t opened any pregnancy books. I shrug when my phone sends me an alert (“Congratulations! You’re twenty-six weeks along. Your baby is now the size of a rutabaga”) because it doesn’t matter as much this time around and I simply don’t know what a rutabaga looks like.
Poor second child, but in the most important ways, such a lucky second child. This second child has a mama that listens to her body, rather than outside expectations, that slows down when she should and gets out the wiggles during the other times. Our second child is getting a mama that has loved being pregnant (well, loved it after 17 weeks when she stopped feeling like she was going to die from morning sickness), and has relaxed into that love. Our second child has a mama who is carrying her with so little anxiety because this time around I humbly realize just how much is out of my control and am choosing instead to cherish each day without worrying about the future. She’s getting a mama that knows that the toe-curling pain of nursing, the interrupted sleep, the blowouts, the spit-up, and the lack of showering are all worth it in the most amazing way possible. I’m pushing aside all the material, small things and looking forward to the size of my heart growing larger to take in our new, enormous, tiny blessing.
[AUTHOR: Becca Eliasen]