When I imagined motherhood I pictured it to be this magical place. Where you just lay around with your beautiful baby all day, dress them up in cute little outfits and take pics of them and cook delicious, nutritious meals for the family to enjoy together.
Well that’s pretty much what it was like for me with my first daughter, Miss I. She slept all night, she ate asparagus and other vegetable varieties, people gave her the cutest clothes and I’d dress her up and take her out. We would sometimes lay in bed together and just snuggle until 11am and I would often stay in my PJ’s all day. It was magic in my heart. So much so that when she turned 1 we thought, hey let’s have another one.
And then something truly ‘magical’ happened- TWINS! Oh my goodness. This was not really part of the plan. To have 3 kids under 2 wasn’t really how I had pictured it going. But here we were. And just like that, the honeymoon was over baby and the magic began to subside!!
I read so many twin Mum stories and blogs about being #blessed with double the love, double the cuddles and double the fun. Well, I’m going to be super honest about my experience and say that yes there’s definitely love, but far out it has been double the hard and half the magic for me. I don’t think I’ve ever said anything so controversial or vulnerable out loud in such a public way, but here it is.
There’s so much crying. So much mess. So much planning and thinking. So much guilt. So much of yourself given away that it’s hard to see if there’s anything left of ‘me’. And at the end of the day, there is so much love, but the real struggle for me, is to simply be there and enjoy it with one child in their magical moment. That’s what I really miss.
Do you know how rare it is for 3 kids under 2 to all be feeling ‘ok’ at the same time? You may know all too well that it’s pretty rare. One child just wants a magical moment with Mum while the others are doing everything they can to take that magic away for themselves. A constant battle for attention. Crawling all over you, wiping their vegemite fingers on your white t-shirt (white is not a good choice by the way), climbing up on tables, jamming fingers in the drawer, poking you in the eye, begging you for an icy pole or sprinkling their popcorn all over the house like magical little popcorn fairies.
I’ve been constantly on. I’m constantly being touched. I’m constantly trying to keep one step ahead because it’s more painful and exhausting if I’m not. I’m constantly being the person that is responsible for the lives of these small people who totally hold my entire heart in their hands and I can never switch off from that. I rarely get a moment to myself and yet I’ve never felt more isolated.
That’s what Motherhood has looked like for me for the last 18 months. A stark contrast to my first 18 months. There have definitely been glimpses of magic in this season of Motherhood for me, but it’s mostly been hard yakka, and I’ve definitely been giving myself a hard time about that. I’m just starting to come out of the fog of it all and wondering, will I ever have that magical feeling about being a Mum again? And I’m very slowly starting to believe the answer is yes.