Recently, a reporter from the papers rang me up to ask if she could do a story about what motherhood is like, having three kids so close in age. She then asked me some routine questions so she could find the interest angle in my story. I don’t know if what I shared would end up as a feature in the papers, but talking to her sure brought back a flood of memories.
Memories – though somewhat a little hazy now – of how I discovered I was pregnant after Ben was barely nine months, and having to deal with a very horrible, terrible, no good first trimester of wretching, wretching and more wretching, always feeling so sorry that I couldn’t last longer breastfeeding Ben (and to think I even wanted to try tandem feeding!) …
Memories of how tough being pregnant in the last trimester was, with a toddling toddler in tow, and being every bit the hands-on mom that I am, doing everything for him (and refusing to let the domestic helper do what a mother should do) …
Memories of how Becks was such a difficult baby refusing to latch, Ben graduating from infantcare to toddler class at daycare, and me breaking down like a wreck seeing how hard he cried at our separation every morning after his sister was born …
And memories of how the road to having an infant and a toddler was made even tougher when my husband broke his leg and was out of commission for the following half of the year…
And then discovering that I was pregnant again when Becks was transiting to solids well and learning to toddle like a pro…
To realise that the moment Nat was born it was almost an automatic given that Becks would enter her Terrible Twos, albeit half a year earlier …
And then I suddenly had in my hands – gosh, not enough hands! – two toddlers and one infant …
And that when they were in childcare and infantcare, and falling sick quite often with germs having a heyday in the house, I had used up all my leave, my savings, and my energy …
Those years were insane years.
And then I was asked the question: if I could do it all over again, would I at least try to space them further apart? Or maybe… stop at two…?
And a deluge of sentimentality hit me so hard it took me quite a while to recover. While I sounded composed and did all my polite laughs, I was choking on the inside.
Those years were hard. Those years were crazy. What was I thinking?
But these faces.
These children today, at 6, 5 and 3, and the bond that they share being each other’s best friends, is the reason I say makes everything worthwhile.
I would do three kids, 18 months apart, in a heartbeat. My world has never known otherwise, and yet my world has been made complete with the three children I have today.
It has been one hell of a mad, mad ride, but it’s totally worth it.
8 Comments
This piece got me tearing… although we’re just 1/3 of the number, it reminds me of all the tough times and I can’t imagine how i’ll be able to handle the multiplied effects of having 3. Then again, time flies and “this too shall pass” remains as a mindful mantra these days. Seeing the smiles of our little one makes everything that much better. Only mums get it 🙂 Have a lovely week, mama!
Hi Dee! Whether we have one or three, the tough times WILL BE tough! And yes, when the tough times pass and we look back, it’s when we can say we made it. 🙂
So emo after reading this…
Haha! Always good to be emo for this reason! 🙂
Brought a tear to my eye, Liz! Beautiful.
Aww, Anita… xoxo
Trust you’re thoroughly enjoying motherhood, babe!
With 3 kids myself (7,4,3), this post strikes a deep chord and I agree… It is worth every bit. And that I’d do it again if I could choose. 🙂
They grow up so fast, don’t they? 🙂