From two kids to three… The ugly beautiful truth. Part 1.

When Rob and I were considering having a third child I actually googled some ‘Mum of three’ type blogs and articles. Because of course they’d give me a definitive answer on whether this was a good idea. I found some; and I figured if these women had three kids and still had time to write blogs then it must be a piece of piss! Mustn’t it!? Plus; I knew a few school Mums who had three and they always appeared to be washed, cognitive and not one had any visible nervous ticks.

I decided I would use my friend Lynsey as my inspiration. She has three kids slightly older than mine and if I fell pregnant at that point; mine would have the same gaps as hers had.

Lynsey positively wafts through life. Her hair is always swishy and I have never once heard her say ‘I’m so stressed/I haven’t got time to fart these days/I don’t know why I’ve done this to my life’ (all things I now say on a daily basis).

So yes. I would have another baby. And I would be just like lovely wafty serene Lynsey.

We were lucky enough to fall pregnant fairly quickly again (me and Rob that is; not me and Lynsey). Unfortunately I was off to a bad start with my new serene mother-of-three existence; owing to the fact that I couldn’t stop crying. Every friggin day. I’m sorry to say that as soon as I was pregnant I really didn’t want to be pregnant. I felt sick as a dog and utterly overwhelmed with anxiety. It was like I’d taken complete leave of my senses. What the hell had I been thinking!? I had two perfectly healthy, happy (if a little twatty) children already! Two was surely enough for anybody?? I’d had visions of myself like Gwen Stefani rockin’ and rollin’ through life with my three boys (I knew he’d be a boy even then), not a care in the world… but as my pregnancy progressed it became increasingly obvious that I wasn’t the multi millionaire lead singer of No Doubt; but that I worked for the local council and therefore would probably not be able to afford an entourage.

After the 12 week scan things definitely started to feel lots better. Seeing the little bean on the scan monitor gave me the same insane rush of love I’d had both times previously. I stopped lying in bed cursing my stupidity and started to indulge in some fairly idyllic daydreams about me and rob and our three perfect children. We were usually living in a huge coastal mansion up at Bamburgh…the kids were always clean…and my hair had become miraculously like Lynsey’s.

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