In the puerperium with the first baby: breastfeeding, sleeping, cuddling, baby staring in love and nothing else. With the second child: the visitor's crack is permanently occupied by the big one. Togetherness with the baby, always sleeping when the baby is sleeping? Nothing!
When I think of the first three of us, it looked something like this: We locked ourselves away for eight weeks. Only the closest family was allowed to lunt. My husband and I slept when the little one slept, looked at her in love, always found something new, unbelievably adorable about her, and at least I went through the birth over and over again in conversations or thoughts. Not because it was so bad, but simply because it was impressive and I still had to deal with the whole thing.
With the second child that didn't really exist. Because I couldn't lock my daughter Rixa (then almost 2 years old) out of the bedroom. And always just: "Psst, calm, we sleep here, please lie down," just doesn't work with a two-year-old. Reading a picture book was the quietest solution. Then my little brother Bela often lay next to me and Rixa sat on my lap. Unless breastfeeding was the order of the day, then she also cleared her lap.
Waiting wasn't her thing
I was lucky with Rixa. For the time being, I was spared dramatic scenes of jealousy in the puerperium. After about two months, it became clear to her: He's not just visiting! Bela really stays with us forever now! When she was just under two years old, of course, she didn't say anything, but her face spoke volumes. She watched me closely when I leaned over Bela, squeaking in hormonal bliss. Of course, she wanted to sit on my lap while breastfeeding. Since it was occupied, she climbed onto the armchair behind me and hugged me from behind and held me. Sometimes she pressed something very hard on my neck. Sometimes she slipped while climbing and came dangerously close to Bela's head. So better get down from the armchair and Bela and give me some rest. Then she sat in front of us and asked in a tour that I should read her a book, go to play in the nursery or something similar. I could only repeat over and over that I can't leave here and that she has to wait. Waiting wasn't her thing. In order to be as close to us as possible, she then started playing around with her brother's head. As long as the Bela hasn't distracted me, I let her go. Fortunately, my husband would often sit down and cuddle with her near us. And after the milk meal we swapped. He took care of the little house and I cuddled with Rixa.
Until just now, she was still the star of the family
In the case of the second child, the puerperium came into the house much earlier, but it was also significantly less. Those who have already had more than one child brought a little something for my daughter or simply talked to her and not just stared at the baby. The attention did her good. Because, of course, she did not miss the fact that everyone was suddenly cheering and joyfully wanted to hold the baby. That doesn't feel good if you were the star of the family until recently. She was very happy to see a little pixi book from the visit or to say what a proud big sister she was. Our day care center also did a great job: My daughter got a T-shirt that said "Great big sister." She was properly celebrated in her group for her new role.
Justice is not within reach
Incidentally, during that time, Dad became even more of the hero of everyday life for her. For the first four weeks he always brought her to the day care center and picked her up. It was comforting for me to see how much fun they both had and how closely they spent the time. But sometimes it gave me a little stab in the heart, because as nice as the togetherness in the morning with Bela was, I had a baby in my arms again, who couldn't and wanted to except drink and sleep. It takes a few months before you feel like they're giving something back. A smile. A conscious recognition that you are the mom. Before that, you only butter in on one side. In the afternoon I was looking forward to the little whirlwind from the daycare. That was great – the first few hours. Until my battery was exhausted and I had to find out that I could do justice to both, I couldn't do that. I kept making notes in my head when I was just reading three books in peace with Rixa, but now it's really the little one's turn. Conversely, when Rixa came out of daycare, I first gave me time and Bela had to back off. As if some kind of justice was within reach and then also attainable by dividing the time according to a stopwatch. Totally not. So my guilty conscience always changed direction in the evening: Today I felt sorry for the little one who ran too much along the way. Tomorrow was the other way around.
The sweatpants were my new trademark
And then the time came when my husband went back to work and I picked Rixa myself from daycare in the afternoon. To have been completely out of there for four weeks, that was weird. I kept asking my husband: "So? Is there anything new?" Sometimes he could tell something, but often not. And still I had the feeling that I wasn't really participating in the life of Rixa anymore. So it was good to be back at daycare every day and to notice: There's really nothing new to tell.
The timing was a challenge for Bela and me. Somehow the time of picking up surprised us almost every day. I was still wearing my pajamas or sweatpants: a bad night out, so to speak. Before that, you should quickly breastfeed and change diapers and then set off with your bag and cart. The mirror in our house elevator has saved me from embarrassment many times. After all, it was winter, so I was able to cover up the hair chaos with a woolen hat. Since I didn't fit into my jeans again anyway, sweatpants were my new trademark. With a little luck, Bela fell asleep on the way to daycare. That gave me time to help Rixa get dressed, to change the diaper quickly, until Bela woke up again because the stroller no longer moved. It often worked, but sometimes it didn't. Then it was time to get down on your knees with the baby buckled and strangle your shoes and still be patient when Rixa was doing the fifth round with friends in the daycare hall or was laying down a tantrum in the cloakroom. You can do anything, but it just takes an INCREDIBLE amount of strength. And of course you try to come across in complete confidence the whole time in front of the other parents and educators. Other mothers did it without screaming or just crying from exhaustion. Since the age gap between our children was so small, a sibling cart was soon needed. Once everything was strapped in again, it gave me peace and security. But with a sibling car through local public transport is no fun either. Carrying down stairs hardly helps you when there are two boobs in the cart. We just went for a lot of walks. Rixa could tell about her day and Bela slept the next round in the fresh air.
My conclusion
Even if I always felt inadequate in the first time with two such young children and often had the thought: "What am I doing to my children?", I have to say clearly in retrospect that it was the greatest gift for the children to grow up as siblings. Of course, number 1 has to get down from the golden throne and make room for number 2, but after the first year at the latest you realize how much the two mean to each other and how nicely they can play together. Also argue. But when the going gets tough, they just stick together. Even against us parents. It's great!
This article originally appeared on Eltern.de.