When are you having a second?

This is a question that people like to ask once you have your first baby. No one can ever just let you live in that moment and it’s the same for any kind of big life event. When we bought our first home together 4 and a half years ago people instantly started questioning when Mr N might propose. Once we got engaged and then married people were already asking when we wanted to get pregnant. We were so lucky that we conceived on our honeymoon straight away but this is rare and doesn’t happen for lots of people. Any questions to do with babies especially, have to either be worded properly so as not to cause offence or just not asked at all.

We’re friends with an amazing couple who got married and straight away started trying for a baby but they’ve struggled. They told me how heart breaking it was especially in those early days when nothing was happening and people think its funny to question “come on when are you having a baby?” People around me who haven’t found getting pregnant easy will usually tell people that they’re focusing on their careers or they’re in no rush. A defence mechanism which you hope will kill the questioning.

When Little A was a few months old and I was secretly living in a dark hole of depression and anxiety I remember a few people asking whether we wanted anymore children; “when are you having a second?” At that moment in time I hadn’t bonded with the baby I’d just had let alone thought about having any more. I always saw me and Mr N with a couple of children relatively close in age but after having Little A I was adamant that I could not go through that again. I was devastated and so hoped that eventually I would change my mind although at the time it seemed impossible.

Mr N’s Brother and our Sister in Law have recently had their own baby. A beautiful baby girl who has made us an Auntie and Uncle for the very first time. There has been lots of excitement at the arrival of a new little person into the family.

I have found the whole experience a lot more emotional that I thought I might. I knew I’d cry when I heard that she was in labour and I knew I’d cry when we were sent the first photos from the hospital after she’d arrived but I had no idea that it would cause me to think back on my own experiences and how I feel about doing it all over again.

The bond that our Sister in Law has with her little girl is there for everyone to see and whilst she has struggled with her recovery just like I did, she is completely in love and actually feels great. At that same point I had no connection to Little A and felt as though I had been handed someone else’s baby. The love I felt for him whilst I was pregnant instantly disappeared as soon as he was born and I wasn’t sure why or how I could get it back.

I decided to look back at some very old photos of Little A; most of them from when he was just days and weeks old. They were all taken on my own phone so presumably by me but a lot of them I have no memory of. It literally breaks my heart that some of those early days when Little A was so tiny and precious are a complete blank. It’s as if I have blocked them out; just like the trauma from my labour I locked the details away to save myself from the pain of remembering them.

Postnatal Depression has robbed me of so much. I will never get those early days back with Little A and I’m not sure if the missing memories will ever come back. It’s like a small period of my life which is actually one of the most significant periods in anyone’s life; becoming a Mum for the first time, is lost. Lost forever.

The new addition to our family got me thinking about that question that in the first few weeks of Little A’s life had bugged me so much. The subject of having a second baby which at one time was completely off the table. It made me wonder how different things might be next time. Perhaps my pregnancy might be more enjoyable. Perhaps my labour might be the wonderful natural water birth that I had planned originally. Perhaps the same things will happen again but I think I’m finally in a place where I’m ready to accept that. I want the chance to have a new baby placed on my chest and to feel my heart burst with love. I want the chance to watch a new baby sleeping in my arms feeling completely content. I want to study every part of their face; their perfect little nose and their pouty lips. I want to feel happy in the knowledge that I’m that baby’s Mummy and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

I’m in no way saying that I want another baby right this second but after months of thinking we would be a one child family, it’s nice to know that I wouldn’t be against trying for a second when the time feels right.

I have had to work on bonding with Little A it hasn’t come easy for me. I have had to accept my new life as a Mummy and it has taken a really long time. The thought that I could suffer the same illness with another baby is terrifying. Statistically, if you suffer with PND with your first baby you are 50% more likely to suffer again with subsequent children. That’s a seriously high percentage but it also means that there’s a very high chance that I won’t have it next time and that’s the one thing I hold onto.

At least next time round I won’t be so worried about a birth plan knowing from experience that things can go wrong. I’ll be much more concerned with putting support in place for after the birth and the weeks following it to ensure that even if my Black Balloon does return, I’ll have the tools in place to un-tie myself a lot sooner. I won’t be scared or ashamed to admit that the Black Balloon has appeared at my door again.