On June 1st we became a family of four. ‘Three boys and one girl,’ my eldest son states proudly. I remind him that we have three female bantams in the backyard, because they count, don’t they?
Having a newborn again, and all the demands that that places on energy, patience, perseverance and ultimately sanity, has not really been of concern to me, despite finding the early days with our first son more than challenging. This time I basically know what to expect – broken sleep, squirty nappies, leaking rocks for breasts, screaming (predominantly from the child) and lots of washing. Nothing rocket-sciencey , just monotonous, messy and exhausting.
What has thrown me is the challenge of having enough for two children and a husband– enough patience, enough energy, enough love – and the guilt associated with failing to be everything to everyone, despite knowing that this is simply impossible and not to be attempted by anyone. You see, the capacity to engage the rational, realistic part of the brain does not even go close to outweighing the impact of what is really at the core of parenting – guilt – in all its cruel irrationality and power.
I am engaging in the activities and conversations of my two big boys as much as I can between feeding, settling and resting. My efforts exist, but they are not enthusiastic and sometimes not even sincere. I snap and grizzle, demanding less noise and better listening. The guilt nibbles at my toes incessantly like a school of small but determined tropical fish in waters of Malaysia. My husband, who has become cleaner, cook and entertainer extraordinaire, has been lumped with a bossy, bitchy wife and my son now has a largely absent mum (no improvement from the incapacitated one he has put up with for the last 9 months) who rears her disciplining head too often.
And then there’s the guilt associated with feeling nothing but love towards the helpless, beautiful newborn who seems to be doing all the right things. I know I’m sleep deprived and hormonal and I’ve been told by many that it takes time for everyone to adjust to the introduction of a new family member. It makes sense in the rational part of my brain, but where’s the magic wand that makes it easier here and now?
