My first drained the life and soul from me.
That’s it. I was a walking, barely speaking, surviving zombie.
Life was almost intolerable for the first 5 years of my child’s life. It made me mentally unwell, barely coping, on a knife edge.
So no, another was not even a shadow in my thoughts. I was fighting day by day.
Then things got a bit better. I considered that I could not possibly have a second like my first. Impossible, he was a single, one off, unusual, unique individual. After all no one else I knew had a child like mine. They were all beautifully behaved, slept, ate, were normal. Surely it couldn’t repeat, surely it couldn’t.
So we tried. I lost 5 babies.
So Mother Nature was screaming in my ear that we couldn’t produce a child so we gave up.
10 years on we very unexpectedly had our 2nd child.
Wonderful, wonderful beautiful, amazing miracle.
We are so lucky to have our 2 kids.
They fight every minute of every day and drive me absolutely fucking batshit mental. I separate them for a few seconds of peace.
But they are happy healthy kids.