I always knew I wanted at least two children. My brother made growing up easier—I had someone to go through growing up with, and I still do today. Now, I consider my brother my best friend. I love him unconditionally, and he’s someone I can disagree with, but still listen to. I always knew I wanted that for my own kids, and the feeling amplified once Harris was born.
As a child, I would’ve told you I wanted five kids, with a set of twins somewhere in there. Overtime, that shifted to three and eventually two. Same as they say for the first born, the timing is never right and you’re never really ready. So, even though I knew I wanted a second baby, I still hesitated when I got a positive pregnancy test.
This pregnancy was a completely different experience. For starters, we had a toddler at home. Harris turned 2 a couple of months after I got pregnant and luckily my morning sickness was minimal at worst. On top of that, I was in a new job and we were no longer under lockdown. So, that meant a hybrid work schedule.
I spent my first trimester working between our coworking daycare, the office and occasionally at home. Enter the second trimester, things got a bit more physically challenging. I remember laying on the bathroom floor while Harris took a bath on a regular basis. Between lower back pain, sciatica and lightning crotch, I was constantly complaining to Mike, “I don’t remember it being this hard with Harris.”
Luckily, around the same time, we transitioned Harris to a new school, which allowed me to spend more time working from home as part of my hybrid schedule. That and flexibility with how often I had to go into the office meant limited rides on crowded trains and more time at home with my son. But my physical activity was taking a hit, especially compared to my first pregnancy; no more daily morning walks with the dog or exercising over my lunch break. I think these changes also contributed to my aches and pains.
By the third trimester I was sure this baby was coming early. My whole experience had been so different the second time around. I struggled with gender disappointment and the excitement around preparing for baby was replaced with anxiety over a growing to do list with no time to do it. I’d replaced baby books with doom scrolling. On top of that, I was in a more stressful job—a job I enjoyed and was challenged by, but it also kept me much busier and otherwise occupied. And between layoffs and return to office requirements, I questioned if I’d have the same joy when I returned to work in the fall.
We spent spring break in Michigan. That was in early April. With a little over a month until the due date, I developed a chronic cough paired with excruciating rib pain. I’m still not sure if the two were related—for a while I thought I’d maybe broken a rib from coughing. Eventually, the cough resolved and the rib pain was gone shortly after delivery.
Needless to say, I was physically exhausted and emotionally spent. I’d had to be induced with Harris because he went past his due date, which was not part of my birth plan. But, this time around, I was asking for an induction by 37 weeks. Unfortunately, the hospital didn’t allow for elective inductions until 40 weeks; I was put on a waitlist and my name never got called.
Instead, at 40 weeks and 1 day, labor started naturally. In the moment, I wasn’t sure it was the real thing and was worried we’d have my MIL come just to be sent home, so I was hesitant to head to the hospital. But in the end, the feeling that I had to poop (thanks, Julia!) was in fact contractions. In triage, I was already dilated and there were no questions about whether or not to admit me.
In retrospect, it all happened rather quickly. The evening before Josie was born, I thought maybe I might be having contractions, but couldn’t be sure. I texted my friend asking if feeling like I needed to poop every 7-10 minutes was a sign of labor; she told me to go to the hospital.
While Mike put Harris to bed, I was texting him:
8:00PM
ABBY: I think she’s coming tonight or tomorrow; I lost my mucus plug.
ABBY: I think we should call your mom … I don’t think she needs to come now, but I really think it could be tonight.
By 9:15PM contractions were 6.5 minutes apart and we were on our way to the hospital by 10PM. Josie was born at 5:21AM the next morning.
This labor was totally different than what I’d experienced before. For starters, it happened naturally. Fortunately, we made it to the hospital in plenty of time and my epidural didn’t fail.
Unlike Harris’ delivery, the monitors picked up my contractions and Josie’s heart rate stayed strong. And when I thought the epidural was failing because my left side was experiencing a lot of pain through contractions, they said it might be time to push. With a cervical check, it was confirmed, baby girl was coming. With that, I broke down in tears as a flood of emotion rushed over me. I was going to have a second baby. All the stress and uncertainty I’d have over the last 9 months finally had its chance to come out. Ready or not, it was time.
The doctor told me we were going to do a practice push and that I needed to be prepared to stop if she said stop. And she yelled stop! This baby was coming, quick. One contraction and a push later, Josie Mae entered the world.
They say you don’t know you can love another child as much as your first until you do, and it’s true. Once she was placed on my chest, all the uncertainty I had melted away. I had everything I wanted.
Fast forward 40 weeks and we’re thriving. Josie is growing and becoming her own little person, full of giggles and sass. She makes sure she’s not left behind, like any good little sister will do, and she’s up for anything. And big brother Harris has taken to his role nicely. It wasn’t without some bumps along the way—of course there’s been jealousy (there still is) and the chaos that comes with having a 3 year old, but he adores his baby sister. He cheers her on and looks at her in awe. I can see their bond forming and it’s the most beautiful thing. I’m so happy I gave them each other.
But I’d be remiss to say it’s been easy. Having a newborn and a toddler was exhausting, for all the reasons you’d expect and then some. There are days I’m nostalgic for when it was just the three of us, and some days I contemplate what a child-free life would be like. But however hard this season of life may be, it’s also perfect. Between the tantrums and late nights, early mornings and caregiving challenges, there is so much joy and an unspeakable pride.
beesophia 