Hi, I'm Heather. Once a full-time advertising professional from Chicago, I now reside in Northern California and work from home as a Social Media Manager. I've been married to Matt for 7 years, and we have a son Brady (3) and a little boy due this July. I created my family blog, Everything Eatherton, in 2008 to chronicle my first pregnancy, but now it keeps our family updated on “all things Eatherton” after our big move in 2010. Last year, I started the blog Mama Dish with 6 of my high school friends, as a way to keep in touch (we live in 3 different states and in 3 different countries!) and to share all the different Mama tips & tales we would on a regular basis if we all lived in one place. When I'm not working or blogging, I enjoy working out, reading and traveling (especially to Las Vegas!)
Is there something that terrifies you? Not in a, “spiders are yucky”, kind of way. I’m talking heart racing, palms sweating, can’t see straight, literally scares the bejesus out of you?
Flying? Heights? Clowns? Speaking in front of a large crowd? Wearing a bikini at a pool party?
Up until recently, I could honestly say that nothing really terrified me. You’ll never find me in the theater watching a scary movie and I have this really weird thing with styrofoam (and all of a sudden the bathing suit thing is starting to freak me out a little), but there wasn’t anything that would send me into a downward spiral of sheer panic.
Then just a few days ago, my 3-year-old son Brady and I were out running errands and we stopped at McDonald’s for lunch (I know, Mother of the Year right here). I desperately needed to use the bathroom (have I mentioned I’m 34 weeks pregnant?), so Brady and I slipped into one of the stalls before ordering. He immediately started protesting and banging on the door, “but I don’t haaaaaave to go. I don’t have to go pee pee, I don’t have to go pee pee!!” “Ok, Brady, we’re not in here for you. Mommy needs to go to the bathroom. I just need you to stand still and not touch anything.”
Touch, touch, touch. Bang, bang, bang. More yelling, more protesting, and now he’s opening the latch on the door. It’s really amazing how much he can accomplish in the time it takes me to go. Out of nowhere, I start sweating and I think to myself, “is it really hot in here?”
No. It isn’t hot. I’m panicking. I’m having a very small, but very real, panic attack. In the bathroom stall at McDonald’s.
Why? Because literally out of the clear blue it hits me… and I’m terrified. Very soon there will be 3 of us in this “getting smaller by the second” bathroom stall. There will be me, and a 3 year old (who will have to go sometimes), and a baby. How in the world is that going to work? How in the world am I going to manage having 2 children??
You know that famous scene in A Few Good Men where Tom Cruise has Jack Nicholson up on the stand, questioning him about the Code Red. Well I swear the scene was replaying in my head but this time Col. Nathan R. Jessup was saying (to me), “You want two children? You can’t handle two children!!”
Oh-em-gee. What have I done?!
When we got pregnant with baby #2, some of those holy-crap-we’re-going-to-have-a-baby concerns started to creep on me, but I was able to brush them off rather easily by reminding myself that I had gotten through it all with Brady and he’s alive and well. Practice makes perfect and while every baby is different, I felt that I could (probably) handle whatever came at me this time around. Panic averted.
It wasn’t until that episode in McDonald’s that I really started thinking about the fact that not only was I having this baby, and all that that implies, but also that I’m still responsible for the first one I brought into the world. Both of them. At the same time.
I’m not going to be able to “sleep when the baby sleeps”. I’m going to have to feed, dress, entertain and otherwise enrich the life of a very energetic 3 year old, no matter how tired I am. I’m going to have to take B to play dates in spit up-covered clothes (if this babe is even half the barfer his big brother was). I’m going to have to run around the park and play chicken tag with engorged breasts. I’m going to have to tell Brady “no, we can’t go for a bike ride right now” when it’s time for the baby to nap, or put Brady in front of a TV show for a little while when my little bundle of joy has a major blowout. I’ll probably never use a public restroom again.
I’ll get through it, I tell myself. I can totally multi-task. People have more than one kid all the time. Heck, some crazy people even have 3 or more kids. They manage to get dressed. Eat. Go to the store. Get some sleep. I can do this, no problem.
So why do I still feel terrified every time I think about it? Is it the hormones? Is this one of those “this too shall pass” situations? Because my heart is racing and my palms are sweating just writing this post. I am so excited to become a family of 4, for my husband to have 2 sons, for Brady to have a little brother. But the thought of me having 2 children still scares the bejesus out of me and the clock is ticking.
Am I crazy, or do most Moms go through something like this? Please tell me I’m not alone. And please give me lots and lots of good advice to help me get through this!!