Adjusting to life with two children is hugely challenging for many of us. There came a point where I could no longer pretend I was handling it well. So I cried. by Jennifer Andersen
It was 7:00 on Friday and both kids were asleep. I came downstairs, sat down and I cried. I cried like my high school boyfriend had just dumped me. I knew that it was going to happen. As soon as I felt my son drift off to sleep, emotion overtook me.
My husband had been away all week. He left on Monday to return late Friday night. Kris travels regularly, so I’m used to it. But, this was a long week. The weather was unlikely in July and unheard of in September.
The rain and humidity were intense, and at my request the air conditioners had been taken out the weekend before. Given that we bed share and nurse, the heat made it too uncomfortable for either of my two children or me to sleep. The morning after Kris left I got a cold that quickly turned into a sinus infection.
All in all I had done relatively well while being the only parent at home, particularly with these additional challenges. However, my “relative” is not one that I like to use for comparison.
Just after Sydney was born the adjustment to having two children was difficult for me. There was a slight return of my postpartum depression, but mostly the hard transition was due to my total lack of ability and unpreparedness to nurture two children.
My precious, wonderful, beautiful first born whom I had given everything to before Sydney came, must have been heart broken during these months. I know with certainty that the guilt from how I handled that time will never subside. My patience had evaporated, and my praise and adoration must have felt like a distant dream for Owen.
For the first time in his life he had been yelled at, ignored, and repeatedly ordered to be quiet. My precious, innocent, vulnerable, trusting little boy who gave nothing but love, and trusted me fully and completely with his life, emotional health and general well-being.
I was Owen’s world and his world was ruined.
My behavior this week with Kris away reminded me of what my first baby had to go through after his sister was born. I’ve heard that every child has difficulty adjusting to family expansion. For my family, my child adjusted just fine, it was me who couldn’t adjust, and it was my beloved first born, who suffered the consequences.
Those who had been through it before me could pseudo counsel me that my son was “just adjusting, he would get better, things would get better.” He was my innocent, unsuspecting, undeserving scapegoat. But this is what they had to tell me. What else was there to say?
And so, tonight I cried. I cried because I couldn’t be the mother my son deserved and because I miss the uninterrupted bond that we used to have. I cried because I would have life no other way than to have my daughter in it, and because I feel like I am missing so much of Owen’s development, as well as Sydney’s.
I cried because I can already see the love between my son and my daughter and it is the most beautiful thing I could never have imagined. Mostly though, I cried because these gifts that I have been given, these wondrous lives that have been entrusted to me, deserve so much more than I can give them. More patience, more nurturing, more explanation, more play time, more knowledge, more of everything wonderful, positive and beautiful in life.
After a long time, the crying subsided and I vowed that I would not let this emotion be lost. I would store it away and draw from it the next time I was faced with the perfect storm of challenging behavior from my son, and my diminished patience. I would remember that Owen only wanted my attention, my love, for our relationship to be what it was before.
Things could be so easy if we had only had one child. The bond between Owen and I would be so strong, and I can imagine the person he would be. Still, I can’t imagine the person he would be without his sister. And that is what allows me to eventually fall asleep at night.
Eventually, I did stop sobbing. I thought about the wonderful moments of pure enjoyment Owen and I had shared earlier that day. That while the babysitter was here I chose to take Owen with me instead of getting some desperately needed alone time and that our time was brilliant while we were together.
Somehow this dimmed the awfulness that my son endured from me over the week. My tears, as they always do, ran out, and though my eyes remained red, I got myself together. I filed my feelings from the week away, a reserve of fuel during the next storm.
Then I opened the wine.
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Absolutely, gut-wrenchingly, beautiful. I relate more than you know. And you have encouraged me to open up and share more vulnerably. Much love to you dear mama, xo, leslie
Leslie,
Thank you for that. I remember so well the night that I wrote that. My husband must have thought I was nuts as I sobbed while sitting in front of my computer screen. I suppose he was right.
The vulnerable thing is tough- but I have to get corny for a minute here and tell you that it really has been a gift.
If any of you have not checked out Leslie’s site you need to. It is a special place <3
Being a mum is the most difficult job in the world. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Just try your best and learn from your mistakes – that’s all any of us can do.
I resonate with this post completely. I have a 4 year old and a one year old and still mourn the loss of my oldest as an only child and the fact that my second born will never be an only child. Yet, my greatest joy is watching them play and laugh together. They love each other completely and have added so much to each other’s lives.
Katie,
Owen and Sydney are now nearly 5 and 3. Things are so much different… easier. We are all enjoying each other more. Still, the days that I described in this post are on my mind.
Thank you for visiting. I am glad that you are here.
Thank you for this post. My husband and I have spoken a few times about possibly having a second child, our first is almost 9 months now. I want so much for her to have a brother or sister but fear exactly what you’ve described here. I know the transition is inevitable but I wish so much that I’ll have the strength to find more patience because my bond with her will change; our quiet snuggles, naps, time to just be together, her feeling that I am all hers… it’ll all change. Anyway… Thank you for sharing this, it helps to know others go though similar challenges.
Natasha,
The thing that I have found most helpful in increasing my patience is learning as much as I have time for: about appropriate expectations, what I can expect at each age, and about how my actions impact my child. This is a game-changer for me.
Best of luck to your family- no matter when it increases by one <3
My son turned one last month, and my husband and I have talked about TTC for #2. While I want another baby, I also want to wait, for I fear that what you have written here will happen to us. I absolutely love every second I spend with Braydon, and I am not looking forward to day when he is not my only child anymore. I hope and pray that transition will be as easy as possible for us, and I hope the same for you! You’re an incredible writer. Keep up the good work, and I don’t mean on this blog!
Wow. You took the words right out of my head. Thank you for reaffirming that I am not alone and that things can change for the better.
I so remember that move from one kid to two – and my husband was traveling all the time, too. So exhausting. Beautifully written, and your kids are gorgeous.
Thank you so much Maryanne! I appreciate those words
The traveling thing is so darn tough. We are all alone for really the first time in history. So glad that you are here.
I know this only too well, having brought a very needy 2nd child into my “perfect” first child’s life as well . . .(and then I did it again 18 months later with my third!). . .But, now that I’m over a decade into this, I can say that the bond the three have with each other—the rich life they have together that is so separate from the life I share with them—is amazing and lovely. I read somewhere that they will have so many memories of themselves together that I will never know. And though, yes, they fight like all siblings do (and one of them will say “I wish I was an only child!”), it is a fleeting thing.
Don’t worry—your son’s “new normal”, though different, will be okay for him. Be gentle to yourself.
Wow…thank you for posting your story. I had a very similar experience. It is comforting to know I wasn’t alone with all that I was feeling.
This post particularily resonates with me. I feel that guilt myself sonce not only did I have 3 kids in 4 yrs, but I also completed my last 3 years of College education while the first 2 were little. My son is an angel and the funniest kid, but there was a time when I felt like our bond had begun to suffer (much I credit to following a different parenting philosophy then I do now) but as I have grown and learned I know better and I try every day to better. My daughter in her simple, beautiful 3 yr old voice will ask me when I allow my frustration to get the better of me and holler “Be quiet, please!” says to me “Why do we have to be quiet, mama?” or “why do we have to shush? don’t you like our voices mama?” and when she does that it can’t help but pull me up short and make me realize what I am doing wrong, and cause me to get down look her (and my other 2 ) in the eyes and say “I’m sorry, I was wrong!” which are in my opinion (aside from I love you) some of the most powerful words you can say to your child.
Thank you. I have felt the same way since my second was born. Thank you .
Thank you for sharing this. I can relate more than I care to think about. First when baby #2 came, then again when baby 3 came. Sometimes I still think of how #1 and I had been the best of playmates and “what if” it was still us. But, I adore 2 and 3, and maybe more importantly, so does he. And he is so kind and responsible and giving and patient for it all. I hope these gifts are more than anything I could have given him alone.
Thank you for this post. I’m wondering if you could write another about your best advice having gone through this and survived, for those of us with similar fears and close to having our second baby?
Thanks for the suggestion Joyce. Coming soon
I can relate to this. Very much.