Some children are harder to love than others.
That's not to say you love them any less than their siblings, and it's completely normal to love your children differently. The struggle for me, though, was the fight with myself to overcome the resentment I had towards my child. I suffered terribly in my labours and I am so sure I have PTSD after those experiences.
The first time around, labour went for about 60 hours and my ability to recount the events within that time is not possible. I have tried.
Here's what life is like as a new mum according to your horoscope. Post continues below.
I took my precious boy home, and from that day he was an easy, obedient little boy. He barely whinged or cried. At restaurants he sat patiently, on planes he slept, and at home he did what he was told and went about his business quietly.
Then his sister was born.
She came with a built-in surround system that projected her high-pitched, nasal screams some several kilometres. She whinged and winced and cried and was always wanting or needing something from me. I became a walking, talking zombie.
I feared every minute of the day. When she was asleep I feared when she would wake up, when she was awake I feared what was coming next. I became manic. Unhinged. Anxious. I was consumed, unhealthily.
My postnatal depression was still not diagnosed and I started to resent her. It did not take long.
Not because of my broken vagina or because of my stretch marks or the sleepless nights, but because she was taking my sanity. She was demanding and unreasonable. There was no pleasing her.
I was so overwhelmed by all these emotions I never expected to feel, that I couldn't help comparing how I felt about her to the way I loved her brother. Who had ever heard of a mother resenting her child?
Time flew by and my little girl was talking and walking by 10 months. I was still as manic and crazy, just as she was still unpredictable and demanding. She wanted to attempt climbing playgrounds and monkey bars while other kids her age sat in their prams content, eating crackers.
From 12 months old she was always in my makeup, destroying it. It wasn’t until last week when I was on the phone to one of my sisters telling her about a fresh delivery of foundation I had just received and we joked about how long it would last that she gave me the idea to hide it. And so I did, I stashed it in a hat in a bag in my wardrobe. My daughter left nothing in the house untouched or unturned.