2 under 2 - I'm invincible now just so you know.

As of a couple of months ago I became a mother again to another gorgeous little boy making me a mum of 2 boys under 2. Now, this time, things went a little more smoothly and he was born at almost term. We both weren't close to death, we didn't spend weeks in hospital, and he has a lot less health complications than our first son. I'd like to say he's an easier baby, but the truth is, he's just a baby born almost when he was supposed to be and didn't weigh less than a litre of milk. He's just a normal (ish) baby.

I thought having one baby was hard. But my eldest goes to daycare a few days a week so I could work, and now I'm on leave I see no harm in continuing his routine. Which leaves me with just a baby 3 days a week and wondering what the bloody hell I did with all my spare time when I only had one child, and even more so for when I was childless. Seriously. I get a shit tonne more done in 15 minutes now than I ever have!

If you're one of those mums that manages to get your baby into the same routine as your toddler, and can have them both clean at the same time, and in shorts that match the shirt that has absolutely no boogers or stains on it, please send me a link to your book because you're obviously a fucking genius and a way better person than I am. My house is in a constant state of organised chaos now. To the point that I've made a mental note to make sure I wash my hair on Sundays, because I forget when the last time was that I had long enough in the shower to wash it, and before you know it there's a clump of jam in it and I'm wondering if people notice the smell. #MILF right??

I've given up hope of ever having a fully clean house ever again and the best I can hope for is at least one room to be cleaned a day & the dishwasher on....on a good day. But I'm honestly OK with it. It's how I'm coping and my mental health is right on track, unlike last time. So I figure if my house is a mess, but my mind isn't, it's pretty much a fucking win. Happy mum, happy everyone!

I didn't join a mother's group with my first born, mostly because I was hating on anyone that didn't have it as tough as I did, but also because I didn't know that Queensland Health runs free information sessions for new mums, that, as a result, often end up in a mother's group. I have with my new bub, and I went along with an open mind, hoping the mother's in my group were not anything like the judgemental thundercunts that I met when I joined some online mother's groups. Luckily, they aren't! I see myself becoming good friends with a few of them. I mean, anyone that casually drops fuck or shit into a sentence within 2 hours of meeting me, is pretty much guaranteed a place in my heart. Unless they say they're a vegan Scientologist as well, then all bets are off.

Anyway, meeting these brand new mums, with these brand new tiny people to look after has reminded me of myself when I was them. I forgot how shit scared I was. How unsure I was. How I was so worried that at any moment, someone would see through my smile and jokes and realise I had no fucking idea what I was doing and was barely coping with this huge new responsibility. I saw so much of myself in these mums - the strain behind the tired eyes but smiling mouth; the off the cuff comment about sleep deprivation; the questions that are asked slightly in jest, but not really; the strained laugh at the shit explosion hiding the exasperation that it's the 4th time that morning and you've really had enough; the second guessing everything from whether you should have put socks on to whether the formula is gonna screw up their brain cells.

Now, I am by no means mother of the year, but the 2nd time round I'm not as hard on myself. I don't need to be mother of the year to love my kids and raise them to have good morals. My good enough, is good enough. I am now aware, that having a bad day, does not make me a bad mother. Wanting some time away from my kids doesn't mean I love them any less. There are a million different ways to raise a child, and none of them are necessarily the 'right' or 'wrong' way. I've screwed up so many times it wasn't funny. But my toddler is still alive. He's a happy, relatively healthy (bloody daycare viruses/toast & jam is a balanced meal right?), friendly, social, smart, frustrating kid and he still loves me even though I didn't get it 100% right 100% of the time. I'm not telling myself that I should be doing something or that my baby should be doing something, because the truth is that there IS no should. Kids are really awesome in the fact that they give you a fair amount of leeway in the amount that you can cock up before they start eating chicken hearts & sacrificing goats to the sun god. It's cool to admit that you don't know everything; it doesn't mean Child Services are gonna come knocking.

I wish I knew then what I know now. So I want to tell my new mumma friends this:

Chill.

It won't always be this hard - some days it will be harder, and some easier, but you will survive, and so will your kid. Every day your child will present a new challenge to you and you will have days where you think you can't do it anymore. However you feel, it's ok to feel that way. Whether you think it's silly or not, talk to someone about it and don't dismiss your feelings as stupid or wrong. It's completely fine, and highly suggested to ask for help when you need it. You help no one, especially your child, trying to be a martyr and do everything yourself. What's right for your kid may not be right for mine, or hers, or his. Just do what works for your family and don't apologise for it. Fuck the haters man.

I guess I'm writing this after having such a long time between drinks because seeing new mums like deer in the headlights reminds me that I'm doing ok. I just need reminding sometimes. So hopefully this helps you too. Or a friend of yours. 

Now go and have a glass of wine and put your feet up. You deserve it. You made a human!

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

PND - Come at me!

See what I did there? I made light of my mental illness by rhyming it.... coz it's funny.

Not really.

Sometimes I want to leave my baby on someone's doorstep & hope they give him a better life than I believe I can give him. For realsie.

See here's what's happened. Bear in mind, events are shaded with a tinge of apparently post-natal depression (what PND stands for in case you hadn't figured it out already you stupid non-mental health professional stupid stupidity).

I've had a baby born 11 weeks premature, after almost 1.5 years of 'trying' and one round of fertility treatment. My pregnancy was awful, with me throwing up everyday until 2 days before said baby was born via emergency c-section due to pre-eclampsia and HELLPs. He spent 3 weeks in NICU, 1 day short of 6 weeks in SCN, a total of 1 day short 9 weeks before we could bring him home. I made the best that I could of the situation. I created charts that showed his progress. I decorated his room with photos. I made good of getting out of the room at least once a day like everyone told me I should. I expressed milk religiously, took medications & changed my diet to build up my milk supply to a) give him down his tube to prevent the millions of illnesses that were thrust upon him if breast was in fact not best, and b) be able to breastfeed once he was old enough & able. I kangaroo cuddled the shit out of this kid. If I was in the room, he was down my shirt asleep on me. I harassed staff daily, until the day that they finally said we could bring him home. I thought they were messing with me, but no, they were seriously giving a baby to me to look after.  I got him home. And....

He cries. ALL the time. If he's awake - chances are he's crying. Sometimes screaming. He has a whole range of health problems from being born prematurely - none of which is any of his fault. Hypothyroidism, phosphate deficiency, Hb deficiency..... a number of surgical issues that need to be followed up. The latest of which, is a tongue tie that is so severe it needs to be done under general anesthetic because it will no doubt need a stitch. The surgeon, tells me he won't do it until 12 months old, due to the prematurity and size of my bouncing baby boy. Sound medical judgement.  This however, means the weeks that I've been struggling to breastfeed are useless, because he will not be able to do it efficiently. Deep down I've know this. We've struggled. To the point I have yelled at him "this is instinctual!! All animals know how to do this! Why don't you?!?" We bottle feed him the milk I express all thinking "on Tuesday they'll snip the tongue tie and all will be well."

Here's the thing. I feel like the mother-fucking-epic-bob's-your-uncle-epic-fail of mothers that ever failed the fail. I feel like I should have listened to all the signs of the universe telling me I should not have a child, and just got another puppy instead. You know why? Because this is my puppy. Well my year and 2 months old puppy. This photo is not even posed. He just grabbed it, and wandered round like a "baws y'all". For real. Because he's amazing.

Here is my child. My 'survived me trying to kill him for 7 months, I'm a little human child'.

Cute, yes. Allowed me to make a beard out of bubbles in his bath, yes. Screams non-stop throughout the day, yes....

The one thing I was clinging to, was breastfeeding. The one normalcy of this whole situation, was being able to breastfeed my child. And that has been taken away from me. And you know what? I feel fucking cheated. If anything should be ok, it should be this. It could be the ceasear, where I couldn't hold my child, I didn't feel him 'coming out' of me. It could be the fact that I couldn't hold my baby for 8 days until he was over 1kg.  It could be a number of things, but I've always felt that I'm playing house. That this kid is someone else's and I'm just playing until someone real comes along and claims actual parentage. This confirms it. This should have been the thing that 'cinched' our relationship.

But it hasn't.

So welcome to the "Qld Nurses, wanted to be, but should have listened to the signs and now has PND and doesn't want to have a baby" blog.

Enjoy the ride. Someone should.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.