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The other morning I woke up; the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and , by all accounts, it was going to be a beautiful day. I lay there for a moment enjoying the silence.Quiet, the whole house was still. All that I heard was the faint sound of the wind chimes, like the bells from some distant church. Absolutely everything was perfect. Then, from out of nowhere, I get a miniature sized karate chop to the face.It startled me at first, as it does every morning.Then I roll over to see the cherub like visage of my 1 year old, still sleeping. Her light brown hair lay in a ratted jumble, spread out amongst the pillows and she is completely oblivious to the pain in which she has just inflicted. I smile, how could I not at such a face. So, I lay there, still as a mouse, trying to preserve every last moment of the silence. Oh, how I adore my children when they are asleep. They resemble perfect little angels with their perfect milky skin all aglow, their hair tousled in chaotic perfection, as they lie there in complete peacefulness. I am envious and , at the same time, I feel so much love for them that my heart feels as if I can not contain it. I can not leave the bed of my sweet co sleeper, for fear that the moment that my feet hit the ground, the spell will be broken and she will awake. So, I lie there, for what seems like an eternity, waiting for her to awaken on her own. The silence, really is wonderful. I close my eyes and decide to make the best of it. I resign myself to peacefulness and at the very moment that I settle into sleep, the door bursts open and my 4 year old screams “Good morning , Mama!” Waking her sister, breaking the spell, ending the silence, my sunshine has arrived.

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Second baby syndrome is real and anyone who says it isn’t is a damn liar. Fast forward to two years after the birth of baby Bella. We were blissfully happy with a gorgeous, though demanding toddler (whom I was completely in love with) who wanted all of my time, every single waking moment. She had decided long ago that co-sleeping was the thing for her, and was still in our bed, with no end in sight. Not that I minded, it was comforting to see her tiny cherubesque face in the middle of the night as she head butted me when I awoke for the 100th time to pee because I was 9+ months pregnant. It made it hard to bask in the glory of the pregnancy of baby number 2, when baby number 1 was still a baby.

The second time, I only gained 18, ok 20, lbs. But for some reason I seemed a lot larger. It was pregnancy 2.0 and I was like Godzilla. The first pregnancy was nothing like the second pregnancy. I didn’t start showing until I was 8-months pregnant. I looked a little thicker in the waist but at my baby shower (2 months before my daughter was born) people were teasing me that I didn’t look pregnant. And I really didn’t, well, only in my ass.

There I was, bigger than before  ever, chasing a sprinting toddler who had the energy of a boxer puppy on crack cocaine, I was absolutely drained. I had all day sickness for 4 months. It was so bad that I had to wear sea sick bands! I looked pretty ridiculous. Motherhood is hard, y’all.

No one was quite as impressed that I was pregnant the second time around. Don’t get me wrong, we were all ecstatic. We planned for baby #2, and got pregnant right away, it was just different because the time that I used to bask in all of my procreating glory last time, was now being used to shuttle a 2-year-old to classes, play dates, and constantly trying to explain and prepare her for her coming soon baby sister. I had to prepare myself to go through labor again and come out the other end the mother of two kids.

I was obsessed with making baby # 1 not feel left out or abandoned by the pending arrival of baby #2 so much so that when I actually did go into labor, I only stayed at the hospital long enough to give birth, spend the night and then I went home. I was there about 32 hours total. I blame it on the screen saver on my cell phone. It was my 2-year-old smiling like she was the center of my universe and the guilt that she had to make room for someone else, gutted me completely. The betrayal.

Second baby syndrome was in full force in our home.

I loaded up my brand spanking new baby girl, all the mega maxi pads with wings, mesh panties and Dermoplast they would give me and I went home. But bringing home baby was different than the first time. There was no 15-mile an hour drive home. Step on it, Jeeves, I’ve got a baby at home that needs me. There was no time to recoup as a family. The Big Guy took a week of paternity leave and we took turns staying up with a colicky, jaundiced newborn and quelling the fear of lemurs under beds, singing Wiggles songs and dealing with regression. Second babies are exhausting.

What once was a mandatory 6-weeks before we went out into the world was a day. I had a newborn who needed to be checked. I had a 2-year-old who had classes to attend and play dates. I couldn’t punish her plus, I didn’t want this to be the beginning of years of therapy and sibling rivalry. What used to be packing the equivalent of luggage to leave the house became keys, diapers, wipes, a bottle, snacks and a stroller. Believe me, it was twice the babies and 1/2 the stuff. Baby wrangling is hard, folks.

I spent a lot of those first few weeks reevaluating what motherhood should look like. You know it’s so easy to be a great parent when you don’t have children but once you add real life, breathing, children who you love more than life itself to the mix, things get a little less black and white. I broke all of my own rules. Wiggles in the middle of the night? Sure. Co-sleeping? Absolutely. 5-second rule for the binky, hell yeah! Bottle when needed if the breasts don’t provide enough. Yes, a thousand times yes. Don’t sweat the things that you can’t change. Love your children and do what works for your family. That’s the good stuff; all the love.

Second baby syndrome is awesome.

It means you have a second baby to love and twice the love to receive in return. Who gives a shit if your house looks like it’s been hit by a Tornado? Who cares if your legs haven’t been shaved in 3 weeks. Look at their faces. That is unconditional love and it’s priceless. They grow up. Way too fast. Your house won’t be dirty forever. Before you know it, they won’t need you for everything and soon after that they will need you for even less. Enjoy every minute of it now.

 

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couple,periods, pregnancy, hot flashes, wonder woman within, adam and eve

It seems like the phases of womanhood boils down to periods, pregnancy and hot flashes. It sounds utterly simplistic but it’s anything but. Each phase brings with it a renewed perspective revealing to us an undiscovered inner strength and the Wonder Woman within us all.

If I’ve scared you with some of the information in the previous post, that was not my intention. For those of you who have been through any of the phases of womanhood already, you’re laughing because it’s all true (and believe me, misery enjoys company). If you’ve not been through all of it yet; you’re either laughing hysterically thinking, this lady and her metaphors are hilarious, or you are heeding my warning and doubling up on the birth control. Either way, I speak the truth.

READ ALSO: Rantings of a Crazy Lady or My First Pregnancy

Nothing in life is free. Chances are your mother told you this. Mine did. Remember men don’t buy cows who give free milk. Wow! That’s a sexist thing to say not to mention, did they just call women cows? Speaking of being a woman, why Eve why? Our first foray into motherhood is marked by blood. I mean that should be a red flag ( pardon the pun) of what’s to come. We get our periods, which means theoretically we can know the joys of pregnancy.

Ironically, if we’re young and/or single the chances of pregnancy is obviously greater. It’s not enough that we’re blessed by nature’s gift that keeps on giving, we must be on constant alert as to not be taught a lesson. If you don’t want to get pregnant and you are young or single, be extra cautious because you are in the highest risk category of those most likely to conceive.

There is a Wonder Woman Within us all

In contrast, if you’re a married woman, in your mid 20’s or 30’s, with the closest thing to sufficient income trying to get pregnant, now it becomes infinitely more difficult. How badly do you really want it? Sometimes it’s easy with a little careful charting and planning (isn’t that sexy?) but other times you have to really work for it… hormones, in-vitro, etc. and it’s anything but sexy. In fact, it’s downright ugly sometimes.

READ ALSO: What Does Birth Feel Like?

The older you get, when it should actually be easier for you to care for a child, the more you want it, the harder it becomes. There is, however, a group in there (who I hope you all fall into) that has a wonderful, loving marriage and after celebrating their fifth year anniversary decide that it is time to bring a child into the family. They go on a nice, sexy vacation somewhere; have a little drink, do a little dance, get down tonight and wham, bam! 10 months later a baby changes everything. No worries, you planned for it (as best you can plan for such things in life). That’s the fairy tale. It’s the dream we all had right after we planned our weddings when we were twelve.

Here we are 18 years and a master’s degree later. We all know that in our hearts this pregnancy/motherhood gig is what puts us over the top. We rule. Motherhood is the phase of womanhood that brings out our wonder woman within. We’re forever are on a pedestal for giving our husbands children (they can’t do that on their own). They can do a lot of shit, but they can’t have babies without us.

READ ALSO: The TRUTH about Motherhood that No One Will Tell You

Motherhood turbo launches us into sainthood. But it’s a slippery slope because; the same is not guaranteed for those poor unfortunates (I only say unfortunate because you never know how the guy’s going to react in that situation) girls who get pregnant on accident. Then you run the risk of some jackass taking away your glory and treating you like you owe him, for sticking him with a baby. Be careful.

Enjoy your glory because soon will come the hot flashes and then the unavoidable invisibleness that soon follows. Really, it’s just the next phase of womanhood and what no one realizes until they are going through it is that it is fabulous too. With invisibility comes the freedom to say and do what we please. It also means our children are probably old enough to let us pee alone and sleep through the night and that’s worth celebrating.

Wonder woman within party at my house.

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