15 Jan Can love double (and sleep halve)? One Father’s view on welcoming a second child.
The impending birth of his second child leads Kenny Williams to ponder life’s big questions — from the contraction of sleep to the surprising expansion
“…my wife has just informed me that we are having another baby. And I’m thrilled. I really am. But it’s only been in the last few weeks that I’ve been able to sleep an entire night through.”
Sleeping Like a… What Now?
I have never really understood the expression “to sleep like a baby”. I’ve heard people say it to describe their own rest. When asked how they slept, they proudly reply, “Slept like a baby.”
This is where I get confused. Are they implying they woke every hour screaming, soiled themselves, needed to be fed every four hours, burped, rocked, sung to, and generally fussed over like a tiny celebrity? I think not.
Is it meant to imply they slept deeply and blissfully for eight solid hours? If so — where on earth do you get those babies?
A New Baby… and a Return to No Sleep
I bring up the subject because my wife has just informed me that we are having another baby. And I’m thrilled. Truly. But it’s only been in the last few weeks that I’ve managed to sleep through the night.
We have one child, Max, who is two-and-a-half and who — for the most part — now sleeps in his own room. And as guilty as I feel admitting this, I am savouring my side of the bed. No tiny foot on my chin. No middle-of-the-night wail that would put Jimmy Barnes to shame. It’s bliss with a capital B.
But in about eight months, that bliss will be over. I’ll be back to the bleary-eyed, mumbling zombie I once was (though my wife swears I was like that even before children).
The Sweet Stuff… and the Sleepless Stuff
Of course, there’s a plus side. The idea of a newborn around the house brings back some wonderful memories. The unmistakable newborn scent — I wish I could bottle it. The mysterious fluff that appears between their tiny fingers no matter how many times you wipe it away. The hours spent staring in awe at something so small and perfect.
But then, yes, here it comes: the sleepless nights, the constant nappy changes, the worrying… and did I mention the sleepless nights?
Can Love Really Expand?
On top of all this, the thought of a newborn stirred something in me I wasn’t expecting. I feel oddly self-conscious even admitting it. Maybe it’s because I was raised as an only child, but my first concern was: Will I be able to love another child as much as I love Max?
I love Max so deeply that I struggled with the idea of dividing that love. A part of me still thinks it isn’t fair to him. Another part of me feels childish for worrying. And I suppose until I meet this new little person, I won’t fully know.
But with each passing day, those doubts fade as my wife and I talk about what’s ahead. The family outings to the park; laying on a blanket under a shady tree. The scary logistical side of outings too — packing what feels like the entire contents of the house just to go anywhere: nappies, wipes, dummies, toys, clothes, prams and… whiskey. I mean water.
Every time we talk, I feel a little surge of excitement that tells me it will be fine. That love will expand. That I will love this child just as unconditionally.
A Growing Family, A Full Heart
And when I see the joy on my wife’s face — even now, early in the pregnancy — and that unmistakable glow, I feel tears prick my eyes. I picture us all together as a family, sharing dreams and hopes for the future. I feel overwhelmed by the magic and wonder of new life, something I can touch and hold and believe in. And I definitely want to be a big part of that.
So yes, that’s that. Now to the stork delivering our next bundle of ear-piercing joy: when you’re sorting through the pile, could you please, please, please send us one of those mythical babies that sleeps through the night?
If such a creature truly exists.
Illustration by Andrea Smith
