In the last three years a lot has changed; I married my childhood sweetheart and we had our first son. We moved back to our home town (something I never thought we would do), bought our first house, my husband changed jobs and I gave up my work. This last year though things had settled down; it has been over twelve months since I gave up work to become a stay at home mum and me and Lucas have our own little routine. We have been happy in each others company and I’ve loved spending my days with him. Me and my husband had decided early this year that the time was right for us to try for another baby. I had always known that I wanted more than one child and I wanted Lucas and his brother or sister to be close in age.
I had been prepared for all the change that would come with this but felt like we were ready for it then suddenly everything was different when we had the scan in July that confirmed that we would be expecting twins. Initially I was thrilled, after all it was lovely to think of adding twins to our family. Then I had a few days of panic with the obvious worries about money, space in our home, how we would cope. In the end going through a difficult few months, when they thought the babies shared an amniotic sac and they weren’t sure how successful the pregnancy and birth was going to be, shoved all those worries to one side. When we found out that our babies were identical but safely in separate sacs I cried with relief. The risks were minimal now and I knew the chances of me carrying them full term were good.
Since then we have been very laid back about the massive changes ahead…until now. I have hit the last few weeks of my pregnancy and my carefree attitude has changed. I know it will be hard work with twins and I’m sure nothing will prepare me for the struggles of the first few months but mostly I am concerned for the change in Lucas’ world. He is such a happy, sociable boy but I have noticed the last few months have changed him. He can gets frustrated easily and shouts and cries at us and I can see he is fed up when I tell him I need to rest and I can’t pick him up. He pushes the limits more, particularly with me, almost as if he knows I haven’t got the energy to chase after him. We used to walk nearly everyday but I can’t remember the last time we went to the park or the library so I try and do things in the house but it’s no substitute for that fresh air. All of this makes me feel so guilty; these last weeks when I should just be enjoying being with him I find myself losing my temper and snapping more. And yet, he isn’t doing anything that another two year old hasn’t done before him; I know that and still the worry of how he will be when the babies arrive plays on mind.
I don’t know why it has hit me so hard now. In a couple of weeks he won’t be my only little boy and he won’t be the baby. I don’t know if we will have time for our lazy mornings and stories in bed, for cuddles while watching Postman Pat or even for me to sit at the table and eat lunch with him. I worry our relationship will change because I won’t get the quality time with him and that I won’t always be the best Mummy I can be because I’ll be tired. Things will change and that is part of life, part of us becoming a bigger family but my affection, wonder and love for my first boy grows all the time; I never want that to change.