The Other Mummy

My life has changed drastically.

It all started when a strange woman barged into my house. She didn't ring the doorbell, she just opened the door and walked in.

"Is Anna here?" the woman asked, standing in our front hall.

"What?" I said. But Anna was already shrieking ecstatically and running toward us.

"Mommy!" she cried joyfully. She ran past me and buried her head in the stranger's chest. "Mommy, mommy, mommy," Anna sighed as the woman lifted her into her arms.

I stared at them in shock. There was something horribly magical about them. It was like they were an instant twosome. Their love for each other was so deep. I felt worse than left out. I felt wrong — too small, too big, too average.

"Anna!" I moaned, but she and the woman were twirling past, laughing and breathless. They flopped down on the couch, and then — I couldn't believe it — the woman pulled up her shirt and Anna started to nurse. The woman stroked Anna's hair lovingly as Anna slurped and slurped.

I stood over them, tears streaming down my face. "What's happening?" I sobbed.

"She's nursing," said the woman serenely, staring into Anna's beautiful brown eyes.

"But she's weaned! We stopped over a year ago!"

The woman looked at me calmly.

"Quiet down, please," she said. "You don't nurse Anna anymore. But I'm her new mommy. And I do nurse her. It's okay. She has both of us now."

I was dumbfounded.

"Get. The hell. Out," I said loudly. "Anna doesn't need two mothers."

Anna stopped nursing and turned to me. "Two mommies," she said.

"You'll get used to it," said the woman. "You'll even love me. You'll see."

And she's been living with us ever since.

As you can imagine, it's been a terrible, terrible time. My emotions are all over the place. Sometimes I'm blinded by jealousy. I desperately want Anna to love me best. I offered her my breast the other day.

"I can nurse you too, see?" I said plaintively. Anna just smiled and tried to distract me with a toy. Later I saw the other mother nursing her, and my heart shattered.

Other times I feel the most intense rage toward the other mother.

But most of the time I just want things to go back to the way they were. I'm sick and tired of all the changes. I want everything to just.....regress.

Okay, okay, not really

This is a fictional scenario, of course.

But this is as close as I can come to imagining how Anna must have felt when Clara arrived, and how she must still feel. It helps me understand her regressions.

Anna has become exceedingly oral. At age 2, she's started using a pacifier. She mouths other things too — books, Legos, her baby doll's bottle, me.

This would be okay if it weren't for the chokables. In the past, when she found a small object like a bottle cap or a penny, she'd immediately trot over to me and drop it into my hand. But last week she put her tiny tea set cup in her mouth and rolled it around like a sugar cube. ("No!" I shrieked, and she spit it out, terrified.)

We've also had a problem with sleep. A few weeks ago, Anna dropped her nap yet again. Then she decided she didn't like Quiet Time.

"I don't like it, Quiet Time," she'd sob as soon as I heaved her into her crib. And she'd cry off and on for the entire hour — making it Loud Time. I tried books and toys. She tossed them out of the crib, screeching. I added massage to our pre-nap routine. She wasn't fooled.

We dropped Quiet Time and put her to bed earlier. This worked for a while, and then it stopped working. She got overtired and started waking up at night.

And, of course, there have been tantrums.

A small pause

I think Anna's been trying to tell me something with these behaviors, but for a long time I didn't want to listen. In a way I was regressing myself. I have a new baby on my hands! Anna needs to be easy right now! She needs to sleep right, act right, and not scare me with chokables! It's not fair, I thought childishly.


But it is fair. Anna's world changed drastically when Clara was carried in the door. In fact, it continues to change — at breakneck speed. Most of the time she copes well, with grace and humor. But sometimes she needs to be a baby too. And sometimes I forget this.

This afternoon, Anna sat on my lap while I rubbed Clara's stomach. Clara had just calmed down from an intense crying spell. I had swaddled her in her pink blanket and she lay peacefully on the floor gazing at the ceiling fan. Everything was fine, until Anna started to cry.

I didn't get it. She had the best seat in the house. Clara was the one on the floor. I could feel myself getting frustrated.

But then, inspiration struck like a miracle.

"Anna?" I asked. "Do you want to be swaddled too? Like Clara?"

"Put blanket on Anna," she said, sniffling.

So I took our big blue quilt, wrapped her in it, and laid her down next to Clara. Then I gave her a pacifier and rubbed her stomach.

The girls lay next to each other, looking up at me with their round, trusting eyes.

"My two babies," I teased, laughing.

Anna laughed too, but she didn't get up. In fact, for the next several minutes, we all stayed exactly where we were, taking a break from change.

Taken from BabyCentre-Evonne's Journal

Ben suggested I should post this up after sending the article to him. I entitled it, "SO SCARY." And indeed it is. Do let me know how u feel after reading it. :)