And then we found out we are expecting again. We found it out with a rush to the toilet on New Year’s morning. The start of a very different pregnancy so far. Whole day lasting morning sickness. Exhaustion. Food that wouldn’t be bothered to stay where it was supposed to be.
A little boy that of course didn’t stop asking my full attention and the going back to work that resulted to be completely messy and unorganized due to the hormones and sickness kicking in all the way. But it’s starting to get better and Easter holiday is there to calm my nerves.
It’s slowly starting to sink in. We’ll be a family of four. This baby was most welcome, we talked it through and decided to go for it, in some way counting on the fact that it could take a while. It didn’t and then suddenly I realized that I wasn’t all that shiny and happy as I was the first time. I was thankful but apprehensive at the same time. I worried. I felt guilty not to jump on that pink cloud again. I felt guilt towards my oldest son.
Good thing a pregnancy takes nine months. We will adjust. And our little active happily waving wee little one will be as welcome as little boy was. We’ll find a rhythm that works for us.
It will be different though. A week after we told my husband’s mother, she suddenly passed away, completely unexpected. Her death left us shattered with grief and disbelief. Our daily routines have been picked up again, but there are many, many moments I think about her. We had a difficult relationship the last two years. Our little boy was everything to her, but I felt suffocated by that. Especially since at the end I didn’t trust her enough to let her watch him (nothing to do with her love, but her health was not always stable and she had lied about that before…). But then again, we worked it out, and she managed to ease that painful situation by acknowledging my decision, accepting it and telling me that. She gave me the opportunity to open up again, because I could let go of the guilt and the hide-and-seek playing. She was one special woman and she will be dearly missed, on many many occasions. The first weeks of September won’t be the least of them…