Tales of a Second Timer?

Okay, so I’m not even going to bother apologizing for absence, but after reading the entirety of my year’s worth of blogging, I realized how well it chronicled my life and Jordan’s life at that time – and I need to do it again, for myself, and for my son. So… fast forward from my last Jordan related post, where I think she was about 18 months old – she is now almost 5. I’m still working the same job, and I still love it (most of the time). Enter the picture Drake, our new baby boy, who is almost 4 months old. We live in a new house, moved in when Drake was one month old – 2600 sq ft vs the shoebox we lived in for 6 years. Cobey is still with us, although he now has gray hairs on his chin, and a lot less energy than in prior years. Things have changed a lot. And I am no longer a first timer, but a second timer! And it is interesting how different things are (and aren’t) the second time around.

Pregnancy – I had the same worries and fears (and use of personal doppler because I never lost the need for the reassuring heartbeat). The same fascination with the physical process, and with the bodies of we females; we are TRULY amazing. The same need for as much information as possible, thus the weekly (sometimes daily) analysis of the progression of my condition via every website that seemed to hold a figment of true information. The same overwhelming desire to HAVE THE BABY ALREADY by the time I was a month from my due date. The difference was my ability to sporadically forget about the pregnancy, and sometimes the will to do so, as it was so important to spend as much quality time as possible with Jordan before the baby came. There was also a desire to hold on to how pregnancy feels, to remember the baby’s movements – knowing that it would be the last time my belly would swell and I would actually be happy about it.

Birth – Different in every way! Not nearly as much fear or uncertainty. I had complete faith in the ability of my body to do its job, and let it lead the way. Labor was quite wonderful. I was able to give in to the birthing process and deliver my baby exactly the way that I wanted to, with no pain medication of any sort. It was a dream come true. As was our little man. The only thing that was the same, the second time around, was the awe and overwhelming love for the baby, that is more sudden than can be described.

New Baby – It all came flooding back. But there was a different kind of determination this time. I knew what I wanted to do differently. I was prepared. But then, one can never REALLY be fully prepared for a new baby.

Breastfeeding – The SAME. But different… I knew HOW to do it. I didn’t need the nurse to show me how to latch him on. I didn’t need to be reminded to nurse. I was painfully aware of the challenges to come. But they were different ones… Drake was too sleepy to nurse – it was a challenge just to keep him awake to eat. He had a tongue tie that had to be clipped. He didn’t lose too much weight, as Jordan did, but he also didn’t gain weight. I still have exactly the same fears that he doesn’t get enough milk. I have exactly the same issues with pumping. I still hate my breast pump with a feverish passion. BUT, this time I refuse to let it take over my life. I appreciate the 2 bottles of breast milk I’m able to give him per day, and I am thankful that there is formula to feed him 2 more bottles. Now, we’ll see how often I end up blogging about milk. Honestly, I think I said all that there was to say 4 years ago. It is still a struggle not to be obsessed.

Nothing could prepare me for the challenges of 2 children. But our new home gives us more room to breathe, and BJ has been wonderful. Jordan is the best big sister in the world, I’m convinced, and Drake is thus far an easy baby.
I am a little surprised at how thrilled I am to have a son. There is something special about having a son… Not to take anything at all away from having a daughter… But it truly feels now as if my family is complete. Now we just need a snip-snip for Dadda, to prevent any further happy surprises. We will also try to resist “playing” in other peoples’ camp trailers. 2 trailer babies are enough for any family.