Have you seen those diaper commercials that illustrate life as a second-time mom? You know the ones: The first-time mom is nervously trying to cover herself while nursing in public… when flash forward to kid number two she’s unapologetically and proudly feeding her babe for all to see. Or the one where the first-time mom demands everyone scrub from the elbows down with antibacterial gel before coming near her new baby—and then hands baby #2 to a dirty auto mechanic?
With my first I stocked up on items I deemed absolutely essential—like pacifier wipes. I bought overpriced organic diapers endorsed by celebrity moms. I had a belt with speakers in it and spent countless hours playing seemingly stimulating music for my in-utero child. I was the resident expert about prenatal nutrition (steering clear of deli meats, caffeine, soft cheese). I framed ultrasound pictures.
And here I am pregnant with baby number two — exhausted from chasing a toddler and working full-time and I can’t help but notice that I now fit every second-time mom stereotype ever created. These days I buy my diapers at Target. I wipe fallen pacifiers on my pant leg and call it good enough. I regularly demolish a turkey sandwich before remembering that there’s some rule about deli meat. I drink caffeine (or perhaps I should say I require caffeine). I don’t play music or read to my in-utero kid (though she does get to hear me sing a few off-key renditions of Old MacDonald to my daughter). And the ultrasound photos from this pregnancy? Yea…about that. After carrying them around in my giant mom purse for a week I somehow lost them. Sorry second kid.
With my first pregnancy I could tell you down to the number of days how pregnant I was. Now when people ask how far along I am, I usually respond with a confused and unsure look. Thankfully there’s an app on my phone to keep track of the days and weeks for me.
All jokes aside, it feels kind of nice to be in the veteran mom category. Gone are some of the first-time mom nerves and the countless hours of obsessing over every twitch and cramp in my uterus. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Heck, some days I even feel like I might know what I’m doing when it comes to having babies and raising kids. Sure, this second baby might not have ultrasound photos framed in her room and might never have a properly sanitized pacifier—but she will probably never know the difference.
What’s your second time mom story?
What about you? How was your second (or third, or fourth) pregnancy different from your first?