Now that I am a seasoned mom of two who has been at this for 10 full days (impressive, eh?) I can safely say that, while aspects are harder, there are also some things that are much, much easier. Chief among them? Breastfeeding.
I am proud to say that my voracious little man has gained one full pound in a week. He currently weighs 8 pounds, 6.5 ounces after losing a bit in the hospital. He is starving all the time and my production is very good, unlike the first time.
I am unabashedly pleased with these numbers given my daughter's slow gain and feel oh-so-triumphant.
Some of the ickier postpartum issues are starting to dissipate as well and I am feeling slightly less unhinged (although only slightly, a light breeze can still topple me in the other direction).
Sam is taking to Alan, albeit in fits and starts. Some hours she adores him, grabbing, squeezing and kissing him. Others she hits him or pokes him or demands that he get "out" of our laps when she wants to sit there. All in all, her adjustment is better than I expected.
Although I still have some guilt at rocking her world, my overwhelming love for both of them has assuaged some of my guilt. I am not sure what I feared exactly. Maybe that I would love Sam less or not be able to love Alan because I loved Sam so much, but either way, neither has been true. I am totally enamored with them both and loving having two, hectic as it is.
Yesterday, R and I had to take baby #2 (that would be Alan) to the pediatrician because his umbilical stump was looking (and smelling) infected. Balancing the two children, keeping them dry from the rain and generally being parents of two, R said we look like the Griswalds. And we do.
I feel like this little boy has brought balance to our family and I am loving it more than I even expected. I keep telling R that if we had unlimited funds and could stay together all the time with no demands on our time, I would have at least four.
So far, two is twice the work, twice the chaos and five times the fun.