Those late night feeds, man. Where it’s quiet and dark. Two of my kids snoring in their bunk bed while their sister nurses with me in the armchair. Trying to hold my eyes open (might as well have match sticks pushing open my lids). The nightlight glowing in the corner and the white noise maker cutting through the silence. And then that now familiar intensity that seems to surround me. The worry that seems to ring all around. Feeling like I’m staring life and death in the face in these midnight hours. The raw anxiety. Fear and questioning. Hope and desperation. Not knowing what my children’s future will look like or how I can be better to support them there. What is even happening in the world? Everything is flying past me. The fleeting, beautiful, painful, terrifying experience of life in early motherhood. Even for the third time around.

Is this feeling even real?

Is that grainy, sparse image even reality? Or at least a version thereof.

Or am I just caught up in more exhaustion than I realise I’m experiencing?

I don’t feel too bad in the daylight hours. A bit tired I suppose. Cosleeping has helped when we do that, I feel like I’m getting some sleep. And let’s face it- I don’t keep on top of the housework. At all. I feel guilty and weighted down by it, but keep on top of it- no. Nope. I’ve run out of baskets. We live out of baskets. I somehow manage to get the washing, drying and folding done. But putting away? That final step? Never happens. Mum keeps telling me to do one load of washing a day. Sometimes I get there… I guess I am pretty tired.

At night and early in the morning it seems like that really catches up with me.

This too shall pass of course. Getting to this stage- three kids deep- it’s really clear to me how quickly it will pass. I’m both relieved and sorrowful about that too. The anxiety will peter off a little. There’ll be a little more time for sleep and for washing and for myself. But there also won’t be a tiny baby to kiss all day anymore. But there will be three sweet little people to raise. Wow. Those feelings are like being caught in a washing machine mid-cycle.

What a blessed kaleidoscope life it is right now.