I assumed the moments of maternal bliss that I felt a few weeks ago would carry me through these sleepless nights, showerless days, and all the other trials that come when a baby is added to a family.

Ironically that bliss was fleeting.  It was much less permanent than I anticipated. Where did it go? The truth is that momentary beatitude has not stopped the occasions that I doubt myself, the times when I have a feeling like I can do nothing right, or fitful dreams of a 9 – 5.

The transition into a two-child mother-load has been a more difficult than I expected.

Why didn’t anyone tell me how hard it would be? Why didn’t anyone tell me that I would worry over whether I am bonding enough with my second as with my first. Or, tell met about the fear that I am the only woman on earth who doesn’t have the gene to properly care for two children at once. And, what about how my body image nose dives when the milk sprayers are on; and the exhaustion that makes you want to assasinate your husband, your mother, your dog. And, most of all, why didn’t anyone share the struggle that comes with the transition – the struggle to balance who you were with whom you’ve become a mother of two small children.

No one told me because I wouldn’t listen if they did. I know myself. More, I know that after my hormones level out and the new family dynamics are established I will become comfortable, happy, and satisfied with who I have become. I will be more confident with the switch from an only-child to two, from three of us to four. I will be joyful and lovey again.

Right?