one baby, two babies, three babies, more....

Friday, 7 March 2014

First Child

You're nearly bankrupt, you can't move in the nursery because it's so full of stuff.  Lots of stuff. Stuffy stuff. Important stuff.  Necessary stuff. Baby stuff.

You've read all the lists and you have every possible variation of everything your baby could ever need.

You buy an entire wardrobe in gender neutral, then you find out the gender at 20 weeks and suddenly you buy a whole new other wardrobe in pink or blue.

Your pram has better specifications than your car and your changing bag is so advanced it comes with an instruction manual.

Your birth plan is a work of literary art, pure exquisite fiction.

You have your hospital bag packed from 24 weeks.

Your pre-pregnancy clothes are still in your wardrobe.  You genuinely believe you'll be wearing them again soon. Ha!

You've already planned the first month of your life as a mum with a multitude of lunch dates etc.

You're not even overdue and you've already got lip burn from pineapples, ring sting from curries, your husband thinks it's his birthday and you're walking down the stairs sideways.

You spend the majority of your pregnancy planning and decorating the nursery, that they won't sleep in.

You remark how they'll never sleep in your bed.

You sterilise everything.  Every time they suck their own fingers you're tempted to sterilise them afterwards too.

You waste half your life devotingly pureeing organic vegetables and freezing them in ice cube trays.  They'll enjoy these for about oh, a month or two if you're lucky.

Your child will never eat crisps, chocolate or sweets until they're seven.

Weaning and potty training take over your life, the books say they should be doing it NOW so they will.  Even if you both end up in tantrums and tears.

You're panicking because baby isn't playing by the rules, they're not abiding by the schedules the books told you about.

Your baby eats dirt, you sterlise it's hands, mouth and tongue than contemplate ringing 999.

You painfully record every oz they drink, every nappy they wet, every poo they shoot out.

You can't understand why the HV, a health official, is giving you advice that goes against everything your head/heart is telling you.  But they must be right, right?  After all, they're mini gods.

Your child is silent, you have visions of ambulances.

Second Child

You panic.  How the fuckity fuck are you going to manage with two.

You worry that you simply won't have enough love for two of them.

Your first born is the centre of your universe and you can't fathom how this will change.

You find out that now this isn't your first pregnancy, your MW doesn't want to know you until much later.  She's keeping it casual.  Your wee and blood feel unwanted.

You have your hospital bag packed from 32 weeks.

You look at all the junk you thought you needed with your first and yet never did need at all.  You replace it with a whole new load of stuff you never got last time but you'll absolutely need this time.  Honest.

Your first still sneaks into your bed during the night.

You have a vague idea of where the nursery is, it's that room you dump all the unused baby stuff in.

You're so incredibly tired yet your child no longer naps.  You try and bribe them with sweets, crisps and chocolate oh and tv, to sleep just for a little while so you can close your eyes.

You realise baby will eat food when it's ready, sleep when it wants to and you don't have to call 999 if it doesn't shit for a few days.

Your baby won't eat the organic crap you've bought.  It's living on cheese spread butties and skips.  You figure at least it's eating.  Right?

Baby wears more baby grows than outfits because life is too short to put a newborn in tights and shoes and dresses.  Besides, they'll only puke on it later.  Or worse, shit through it.

Your baby eats dirt, you call the gp instantly and google for hours.

Your child is silent, you wonder which walls it's decorating this time

You discover, your love doesn't become divided, it multiplies.

Third Child

You're still wearing maternity clothes from last time, and nursing bras.  Whaa? They cover your jelly belly and they're comfortable.

You've forgotten what makeup is, you haven't pee'd alone in years.  You only manage a shower every other day if you're lucky and dry shampoo is your new best friend.

You're nearly 30 weeks and you haven't bought a thing.  You haven't the energy to wade through the loft yet either.  It's okay.  You have ages yet.

You're tempted to buy your own wee dip sticks as the thought of going to the antenatal clinic with two little ones in tow is excruciatingly torturous.

You realise the baby doesn't give a shit about colour schemes, besides they'll be sharing a room with a sibling anyway.

You're co-sleeping.

You remember at some point, before labour, that you really should pack your hospital bag.

Your birth plan is more along the lines of 'shit happens.  In case of emergency give drugs'

You realise you only really need clothes, nappies, somewhere for it to sleep and something to take it out in.

You don't care what gender it is, a vest is a vest albeit pink with flowers.  No need for new clothes.

You don't even contemplate a pram, you know you'll only get back half of what you paid and will only use it for six months before you admit that it's too big, too heavy and a bloody nuisance and get a stroller instead.

You don't even think about weaning until it's stealing half your lunch.

Potty training will happen at some point before they go to school, you'll wing it.

You're an expert in anything for a quiet life.

You don't even own a steriliser anymore.

Who cares if baby prefers the dogs chew toy to it's own.  It will build up a healthy immune system.

You catch your baby eating dirt and contemplate not bothering with lunch.

You regret not doing those Kegal exercises.

You realise bribery is a very important parenting tool.

Your child is silent, you put your feet up and figure it will yell if it needs you.  You'll send an earlier model to look for it, eventually.

You leave a 'gone fishing' note out for the HV because you're sick of anecdotal none research based 'advise' that is quite simply a big bag of dicks.

You parent by instinct.

Fourth Child

Oh Fuck.

It will be okay.


Your birth plan is along the lines of 'will try and squeeze the birth in when I have time.  Please catch the baby'

You're excited at the prospect of labour drugs regardless of whether you need them and dream contemplate asking for Gin in your IV.

You request to stay in hospital for a few days as you need the holiday.

You sneeze and wonder if your waters have gone.  They haven't. Oh.

You have a list of days where you've banned labour from happening due to school assemblies, birthdays and the like.

The pregnancy flies by, you simply don't have the time to relish it.

You have tits, nappies and a sling and a whole lot of love,
that's about all you need for this one.  Right?

You remember to shove a nighty, knickers and some pillow pads of doom in a bag, whilst your first contraction hits.

You have no idea where you'll eventually put it, you're sure there's a spare drawer/corner/cupboard somewhere in the house....among all the shit children's stuff.  It's not like it will be out of your bed anytime soon.

You're winging it baby.

What's one more after all?


  1. I only have one child but everything you said sounds exactly like I was when I was having him! Great post #sharefriday

    1. Thank you for reading and leaving a comment :)

  2. Please find, above, the reasons for my being sterilised after c-section #2. Brilliant post though

    1. *L* i'm a masochist......number 4 is in utero

  3. egads' woman! did you REALLY buy all that with the first? i had a crib, one of those car seat/ stroller hybrid things, a crap sling, a playpen, a swing (lifesaver that one) boys clothes (because it couldn't POSSIBLY be a girl!) and about 25 packages of diapers in 5 sizes, most of which was gifted to me @ my baby shower.

    didn't need or even want anything else.

  4. I love this post!! I'm currently brewing number 2 and I'm already covering some of them points! :) xx

    1. Congratulations on brewing number two.......buckle your seat belt you're in for quite the ride ;)

  5. I love this post hun! I'm currently brewing number 2 and most of them points are valid already! :) xx

  6. This is a great read. My mate's just expecting her second and I think I'll have to show her this. When my best mate was expecting her first (and only) little boy, I think she went through everything mentioned for the first child. It brought back some memories of tears that had to be cheered up xx

  7. As the mother of two I can definitely vouch for this. I'm contemplating a third but it just sounds so exhausting!

    1. it is but hey, the more you have the better chance you have of one of them looking after you when you're old ;)

  8. Eleven year gap between my two almost twelve and almost one. Th eldest is a huge help

    1. That's fab that your eldest can help out :)

  9. Very entertaining read!

  10. Cracks me up! I've got 2 but would quite like five. Am possibly certifiable.

  11. Love it! I've got two but would quite like four or five. Am possibly certifiable...

    And dry shampoo is the besssttt.


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