Why I wish I was pregnant again

And before you get excited, not for baby number three. Not for a good few years anyway! Just to be pregnant with L again. Despite the health problems, hospital admissions and going overdue, I loved being pregnant. There’s something so unbelievably special about creating a new life and nothing in the world quite compares to it. But that’s not actually why I wish I was still pregnant with him.

There’s more to it…

My lovely little boy,

When I was pregnant I could protect you.

When I was pregnant you didn’t know the horrors of silent reflux and all the pain it could bring.

When I was pregnant you didn’t cry and cry until you could barely breathe.

You didn’t have to be filled with medicine to try and comfort you.

You didn’t react to every food under the sun and despise weaning.

You didn’t need to be passed from person to person to try and stop you from getting upset.

You were safe and sound tucked up in my tummy and I could look after you without even thinking about it.

I’m sorry your start in life hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’m not sure what went wrong or why it happens but I wish I could take it away.

I’m sorry for getting frustrated and snapping when I’m sick of carrying you around all day and just want to put you down for ten minutes to go to the toilet, brush my hair, tidy the house and maybe check my emails.

You see I don’t do anything while you’re awake because I feel too guilty, so I wait until you and your sister are in bed and then stay up till 2am doing work and trying to get on top of things. It then means I’m tired the next day and we start a vicious cycle of pure exhaustion.

I want things to change but I’m not sure how or when they will. I’m not even sure why I’m writing this blog post other than to let others know that it’s not just them. And they’re not alone. There’s nothing quite like the cry of a baby suffering from reflux and I wish I could take it away from each and every one of you.

On a selfish note I wish I was still pregnant because I could still fantasise about the lovely newborn stage we were robbed of. I could sit and imagine holding you, cuddling you, letting you fall asleep in my arms and watching you peacefully dream. Instead of the reality, which is far from that scene. I try day after day to comfort you. You never seem to want to fall asleep. You wriggle and writhe about and never seem to be settled. Even when you are sitting on my lap you are frantically thrashing about 80% of the time. It breaks my heart and I feel guilty because I’m angry.

Angry of the fact that the 7.5 months I had to get to know you and bond with you, before I went back to work, have been completely tainted by your silent reflux.

This has not been the maternity leave I expected at all…

More on that soon.