Two

It's been a while. I've been Bolt and Blair bothering randomly, but have not bothered to include them here, as they've been short and generally not worth reading again, even for me! And now, I couldn't find them if I tried! Actually just tried looking for my last outburst, regarding the vilification of Tony Abbott, and it appears both of my comments never made it. Not sure what happened there, but there were a lot of comments, and mine were both quite long... Anyway, probably better not published really, given what I remember of what I wrote...

Well, the title of this post is a little ambiguous. Get to that later. The Brown-Eyed Bear (BEB) is an adorable 14 months now, and life has been busy with him. I haven't been taken by the writing muse since having him really - odd that my best work was during his pregnancy, but there you are. Clearly I need to be pregnant to write well, or perhaps sit down long enough to write well. Not that I'm one of those "energiser bunny" types, but I do feel less guilty sitting and "resting" while internetting when pregnant, than when not. That sounds as though I've been pregnant a lot. I suppose in today's environment, 3 is a lot!

I've really enjoyed number 3. I enjoyed the other 2, don't get me wrong, but I was so much more able to let go of the stresses and anxieties and I really was able to enjoy every aspect of his infancy and development to toddlerhood, which he's still in the middle of. He is such a lovely baby! So engaging, he manages to make everyone fall in love with him. And it's not as though the first two weren't also lovely, beautiful and engaging, he just upped the ante! Not sure what it is about him, he looks a lot like the Brown Bear did at his age, and he's feisty like the Bearess, though more placid, until breaking point, than she is. I don't know. Doesn't really matter I suppose!

The better half always wanted 4 kids (well since we had 2, he thought 4 would be perfect) but BEB's pregnancy was super-hard! So much less fit, so much more weight, more and different kinds of pain. Labour was, in hindsight, an answer to prayer, but at the time a frighteningly speedy event that left little time for questions, drugs, second thoughts or even breath! He was in a hurry to come out, but that meant my recovery was awesome (drug free, no c-section) so I was back on my feet and in the shower within an hour. I was shell-shocked, but physically really good. Anyway, all things pointed to 3 being it for us. But my little BEB growing up, becoming less of a cub and more his own bear made me all nostalgic for those happy baby times...

So you guessed it. I'm pregnant again for the 4th time. I'm about 18 weeks along at the moment. I was pretty ready to be a Mother of 4. It seemed eminently doable. It was comparatively unplanned this time around. BEB took a while in coming so we helped him along by getting my cycles tracked, so we weren't exactly expecting to fall pregnant before we really started "trying" if you know what I mean. So it was a bit of a surprise to discover we'd manage to do it without help this time! Didn't find out till I was about 8 weeks in, frantically booking appointments with GPs and the OB and thinking how conveniently life works out when you're making other plans...

Then, imagine our surprise at our first appointment with our wonderful Obstetrician when, lo and behold, the little ultrasound screen flickers into life to show me... two.

Two little blobs, in two little sacs, with two little hearts pumping away merrily. I knew it straight away, and like Princess Leia, felt that "somehow.. I've always known". Was still dumbstruck though. Dr L chuckled softly and told the better half to come forward for a better view. He had been watching from behind his shoulder, mouth already agape, and said "is that what I think it is?" Dr L. then looked at me and asked if I'd worked it out yet. The best I could do was "there's two, isn't there?" And then I started laughing. Dr L then said he should check and make sure there was "just two". Ha ha.

The weirdest thing is not the thought that it will be difficult to have two at once. I've always wanted twins (2 for the price of 1, how good is that?) and now that I've had the experience of 3 babies, I understand what we're in for with 2 at once, but understanding just makes it easier to prepare yourself. You know it's going to be tough, but you can mitigate the circumstances, and know also that this too will pass. No, the weirdest thing is getting into my head the thought that I am now a Mother of 5. It's just one number up from 4. But it's so much bigger than that in my head!

We spent 2 weeks at my brother's place in Canberra over the summer. He and his wife just had baby number 5 six months ago. No multiples, all in a row from age 9 down. It was a blast staying with them. Our kids loved it, BEB was desperate to get in the action but still being a crawler couldn't do hardly anything with them, except when they played with him, which was pretty often. Didn't see the elder two from sun-up til sun-down most days, and was only called upon to arbitrate disputes and make sure the babies didn't get stepped on, thrown around or otherwise "loved" to death! I could see that life with 5 is good. No better or worse than life with 4 or 3, but that's good! You need to be organised and on top of your game, but again, it's doable. It's just not done that often anymore (so much so, that you have TV shows about big families and books written by people who have 22 kids.) 5 is so different to 22, but it's still so much more than what the average family is these days. I remember feeling so exposed when we went out, for example, to eat.

Table for 10, plus 2 high chairs please.

Whaaa?

4 adults, 8 kids, 6 of whom are independently mobile.

Even when they are quiet and well-behaved, they're noisy! They attract attention, they demand an audience. They are charming and engaging, uncivilised yet eminently noble in their innocence.

And having too many of them freaks people out these days. I'm pretty private at the best of times. I hated feeling like I was "on show" because of the amount of kids we had with us. Most people were pretty nice, but even saying that suggests that somehow I expect most people to regard us like fruit cakes and treat us accordingly. Not a nice thing to think about your "fellow man".

Raised eyebrows, smirks and outright looks of bafflement and incredulity are not in themselves a big deal, but they add up to making you feel, well, defensive. I'm not ashamed of having a big family, nor do I think people who have big families are weird, I just never expected to be one of them. It's kind of incremental how these things happen. The difference between 2 and 3 didn't seem insurmountable, in just the same way as the difference between 3 and 4 was negligible, but I don't think I would have ever chosen to have another after the 4th. Having said that, I was almost resigned to having 3, except for this niggling sadness I felt, almost immediately after having BEB, that I wouldn't be having another merely due to the physical difficulty. It was like the choice was taken out of my hands because I felt I couldn't physically or emotionally cope with just bearing another child, not because I felt I'd had enough children. The distinction seems slim but it was a palpable sadness that overcame me whenever I thought my "baby-mamma" days were over. Anyway, I think it unlikely that I'll feel that way if and once the twins are delivered safely, but you never know.

So, back to my original thought, thinking that I'm going to be labelled fruity by anyone who cares to notice all 7 of us when we are out (7!!), for choosing to have more than the average 2.1 kids, made me feel uncomfortable. It hasn't made me regret the decision to go for number four! We are still so excited, and our family and friends are happy, excited and supportive of us, but it's just weird for me that I would think these things at all and these thoughts would be what makes me uneasy.

I've never been one to follow trends or go with the flow, having always chosen my own path, and generally preferred to swim against the tide of public opinion. I guess it's just a shock to have to deal with the fact that I did not "choose" this, but it was chosen for me. And in His greater wisdom, He honoured my desire to have twins (I think I always fell short of actually praying for them, fearing the old adage, be careful what you pray for), but He honoured it in his own time, for his own purposes, and ultimately as always, for my good and His glory.

I have not once felt angry, bitter or even shed a tear in fear or anxiety over this blessing, for which I am grateful. Those are overwhelming emotions I am glad I haven't had to work through, yet! In the end, it is bewitching to think there are two hearts beating close to mine, and two souls who will be added to the three for whom we have already been granted responsibility. It is humbling but invigorating to think of the challenges, great joys and necessary trials and hardships we will go through, but mostly I just think of two.

It's a magical number.