This morning, I was pulling up my favourite pair of skinnies and made an ill-fated attempt at sucking in my tummy, thinking ‘sudden expansion of waistline – must eat less cake’. Only to be shocked by the second thought: ‘Oops, completely forgot that I am pregnant.’
It’s bizarre how much more “actively pregnant” I felt with little L – I read baby books, went to antenatal classes and sang for my unborn baby in pregnancy yoga. The whole thing was much more on the top of my mind, whilst right now, it’s just not. Although I am a not necessarily unhappy that this second pregnancy isn’t taking over my life in the way the first one did (I was a complete and real bore, hardly able to speak about anything else), I am also feeling a little bit guilty that this baby isn’t getting the same amount of attention the first one got.
As much as I’d like to, I can’t really blame it on being distracted by living on a building site. I have been in the exact same situation before – we moved into our far-from-ready house when I was 18 weeks pregnant with little L. However, I might be excused to have temporarily forgotten even the pregnancy-induced sciatica pain when a rat took over our kitchen last weekend.
Raising my concerns to my consultant, he laughed them off, stating that a whole array of “neglected second children” are doing just fine. Apparently, they find their way to make themselves heard.
So, tell me mums of two or more children. How loud does the second one scream?