Saturday, May 16, 2009

Second time around.

Life seems to have settled back to some semblance of what will pass as 'normal' from now on. The second time around is both easier and harder, but I understand why my friend H once said "I wish you could have number two first": I mean, you know the world is not going to end if you are a few minutes late with a feed, and the baby won't explode if you aren't sure if he is hungry or wet or whatever. However, breastfeeding is more entertaining with a toddler who announces "Jump on a baby?" and poses, ready to spring. A few days ago Patrick also announced "Patrick have mummy boobie milk" and "Mine boobie milk!" so after Ollie was satisfied I decided to give him a go. The first attempt he just bit me, but after that he just looked mystified. We gave up.

Today was MrT's first day back at work and things went well. Granted, it was a daycare day for Patrick, but on the way home tonight it struck me that my mood is rather good at the moment, sleep deprivation notwithstanding. Two years ago I would have been in tears before breakfast was over: Ollie woke up every two hours overnight, I didn't have time for a proper shower because MrT had to go to work and Ollie was crying, Ollie did a massive Poo-nami as soon as MrT left (he only poos once every four days, and then, it's MASSIVE), Patrick was demanding Chuggingt.on repeats, the baby bath had a massive cockroach in it, Patrick refused to get dressed, refused to get in the pram, I forgot his daycare bag and only remembered half an hour into the walk to get there, it started to rain as we went home to get the daycare bag and I didn't have the pram cover with me and Patrick refused to put the shade down on the pram to stop himself from getting wet, Ollie was hungry when finally Patrick got to daycare (in the car) and started howling and then i couldn't find a park at the shopping centre. But I was fine. Fiiiine. God bless sert.raline. And my Therapist.

It helps that Oliver is a very different baby to Patrick. One of my friends confided that when she used to look after Patrick for me the one day a week we went to the pool she would get tinnutis (ringing in the ears) from Patrick howling as she tried to calm him down. I also met a woman who used to work in the building next door to our house (a medical centre of sorts) and she said that she and her colleagues would hear Patrick (and me) crying, and crying and crying and crying and say "That poor woman!". Patrick was a screamer. For hours. I wish it had been possible for me to have seen this when he was a baby: a much better explanation than "colic" which has no basis in medical fact, despite everyone knowing what it means.

That's not to say Oliver never cries: he does, but he's mostly very polite about it. If he's fussy, he fusses; squarks and squirms, not full-throttle howling. It's a refreshing change. I'm not going to dwell on the reasons why: likely it is a combination of his own personality coupled with the fact that I am way less stressed and I can actually breastfeed this time without having to express first.

I was worried when I was pregnant that I might compare Patrick and Oliver too harshly if Oliver did turn out to be less screamy than Patrick, but I find myself unable to because it's hard for me to equate Patrick the baby with Patrick the small boy who daily delights me. I love both my boys; with Oliver it's more visceral, Patrick is more complex as I've grown to love the little person he is. Prior to Ollie's birth I would not have thought this possible, but since he was born I actually feel like I love Patrick more than I did before.

Other comparisons: Oliver's hair is darker than Patrick's- not sure if that will all fall out and he'll be another blondie baby. He has a similar chin but it lacks my dimple. His eyes are turning the same colour as Patrick's . He is a hairy baby- he has a hairline that extends down to his eyebrows, and sideburns that go to the angle of his jaw (muttonchops to rival Hugh Jackman's). He remains huge: in the 2 weeks since discharge from hospital he put on 800grams (there's 480 grams in a pound) and he's still going by the looks of it. He's wearing the clothes that Patrick wore at 6 months at one month. He grew out of the 0000's by the time we left hospital.

And last night I think he smiled at me.

So, it's going well: much better than expected, anyway. In fact, some days I worry that I'm possibly getting manic. But then I realise how much i need my sleep and put that idea to rest! It's taken me about 4 days to write this, so whilst I'm hoping to put up some photos soon, it may be weeks.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

thanks for the insight into the second time around. i'm so pleased for you that the baby side of it is easier this time. and i feel really warm and fuzzy about your love for patrick having swelled.

21/5/09 03:39  
Blogger E, SS and the Little Man said...

I'm glad things seem to be progressing well! It sounds overwhelming but rewarding at the same time. I was just thinking today as we were dealing with Teo being cranky while we were perusing the Farmer's Market how different it will be with two. Right now all of our focus is on him. Two to one ratio.

The "Poo-nami" comment made me laugh out loud! Very witty.

23/5/09 15:37  

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