This post is the first part of a series about Life with a toddler and a newborn.
When people found out I was having my second baby, the comments came quickly.
“You’ve done this before, you’ll be fine.”
“At least you know what to expect this time.”
“The second baby is easier.”
I smiled. I nodded. I believed them. But in my first trimester i went through severe morning sickness even worst than the first pregnancy to start with, you can read about my experience on Hyperemesis Gravidarum here.
What no one prepared me for was that having a toddler and a newborn at the same time is a completely different kind of motherhood. Not harder in the way people usually explain — just fuller. Louder. More emotional. A season that stretches you in ways only God could have seen coming.
I am a mom of two now — a 4-year-old toddler and a 3-month-old baby — and this season has taught me things no book, no advice, and no warning could have covered.
This is what no one prepared me for.
I Wasn’t Prepared for Loving Two Kids So Differently
I thought love was love. That it would feel the same.
It doesn’t.
I love my newborn with this soft, protective, almost fragile tenderness. She needs me for everything. She fits perfectly in the crook of my arm. She doesn’t question my love. She just rests in it.
My toddler, on the other hand, loves loudly. Demands loudly. Feels deeply. He needs me too — just not in quiet ways.
I wasn’t prepared for how confusing it would feel to love two children in two completely different languages — and trusting that God somehow multiplies a mother’s heart when it feels like it’s being pulled in opposite directions.
Sometimes I worry if my toddler feels replaced. Because i never want him to feel like he has been replaced or mummy doesnt love him anymore.
Sometimes I worry if my baby feels rushed, especially when i have to work. Loving them both means constantly adjusting my heart.
No One Told Me the Guilt Would Multiply
With one child, the guilt came and went. Especially with times where i had to drop him and concentrate on work.
With two, it feels constant.
When I’m feeding the baby, my toddler needs me now.
When I’m helping my toddler, my baby starts crying.
And no matter what I choose, someone is unhappy.
No one prepared me for the guilt of feeling like I’m always letting someone down — even when I’m doing my absolute best. The other day Dinobi (My toddler) wanted to poo and i was holding Adaora, she literally just started sleeping after alot of singing and dancing, and if i dropped her she would wake up, meaning i have to start all over again.
Meanwhile Dinobi was so pressed, he rushed to the bathroom and struggled to help himself with his potty, i eventually dropped Adaora and rushed to help him, i saw him struggling and i felt so guity.
No one prepared me for how often I would silently ask God, “Who needs me more right now?”
I’m learning that even when it feels like I’m falling short, grace fills the gaps I can’t.
I Wasn’t Prepared for How Much My Toddler Still Needs Me
People talk about toddlers like they’re already independent. (Oh he is growing he should learn to do things for himself yada yada yada).
They’re not.
My 4-year-old still wants cuddles. Still wants reassurance. Still wants to be carried on days when the world feels too big. Still needs help naming his emotions, or even setting up his potty.
I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be when he needs me at the exact moment the baby does.
I wasn’t prepared for how often I’d ask God for patience in these moments — especially when my hands are already full and my energy is low.
And yet, somehow, strength shows up.
No One Warned Me About the Emotional Whiplash
In one single hour, I can feel deep gratitude, joy, exhaustion, frustration, and peace — all mixed together. All before noon.
One minute I’m staring at my newborn in awe, overwhelmed by the miracle of new life.
The next, I’m reminding myself to breathe through a toddler meltdown or tantrum. Or the next minute I’m negotiating with my toddler about brushing teeth.
I wasn’t prepared for how quickly my emotions would shift — or how comforting it is to know God meets me in every one of them.
Motherhood with two little ones doesn’t give you space to sit in one feeling for too long. Everything moves quickly, including your emotions.
Sleep Deprivation Hits Differently the Second Time
This is actually one of the most difficult part for me.
With my first, I could rest when he rested.
Now? My toddler doesn’t care that the baby was up all night. There was a night my baby didnt sleep, i was literally up all night, i actually shed a tear because of how tired i was, but guess what i still had to take my toddler to school in the morning.
I wasn’t prepared for how tired tired I would be.
Not just physically — mentally. Emotionally. The kind of tired that makes simple decisions feel heavy.
And yet… the day still goes on. You have be there and present for the both of them, sleepy or not.
I Wasn’t Prepared for How Much Grace I’d Need for Myself
Some days the house is loud. Toys all over the place.
Some days screen time is longer than planned.
Some days dinner is simple and rushed.
Some days I lose my patience faster than I want to admit.
No one prepared me for how often I’d have to remind myself:
This is a season. Not a failure. You are doing great as a mom.
I am learning to lower the bar and raise my grace — especially toward myself.
I’m learning to release the pressure to do everything perfectly and trust that God isn’t asking for perfection — just presence.
No One Told Me How Healing the Second Baby Can Be
This surprised me the most.
Holding my second baby has healed parts of me I didn’t know were still tender from my first postpartum experience. I move slower now. I worry less about “doing it right.” I soak in moments more deeply.
I wasn’t prepared for how much confidence quietly grows with your second child — not because you know everything, but because you know you will figure it out, and because I know that
God has already carried me through this once — and He’ll carry me again.
I Wasn’t Prepared for the Small, Sacred Moments
The moments no one talks about enough:
-
My toddler gently touching the baby’s hand and cheeks and giving her a kiss
-
Watching him proudly say, “That’s my baby”
- The way my baby calms instantly when she hears my voice or feels my presence.
- The way my baby smiles when her brother comes home from school, or when she sees her dad.
-
Late nights when the house is finally quiet
-
The deep gratitude that washes over me when I realize we made it through another day
These moments remind me that even in the chaos, God is present.
What I’m Learning in This Season
I’m learning that motherhood doesn’t get easier — you grow steadier.
I’m learning that showing up imperfectly still counts.
I’m learning that it’s okay if today doesn’t look like yesterday.
I’m learning that being present matters more than being perfect.
And I’m learning that God’s grace really is sufficient for this season, even on the days I feel stretched thin.
And most importantly, I’m learning that my children don’t need a flawless mother. They need me — tired, loving, learning, and showing up anyway.
To the Mom in the Same Season
If you’re reading this with a newborn in one arm and a toddler pulling at your leg — I see you.
If you feel stretched thin, emotional, exhausted, and deeply in love all at once — you’re not alone.
Life with a toddler and a newborn is messy. It’s loud. It’s holy. It’s humbling.
And even on the days that feel like survival mode… you are doing better than you think.
This season is shaping you just as much as it’s shaping them 🤍
A Quiet Prayer for This Season
On the days when the crying feels endless, when patience runs thin, and when I wonder if I’m doing enough, I remind myself that God saw me before this season found me.
He knew I would be a mother of two or maybe three.
He knew the toddler questions, the newborn cries, the exhaustion, the joy.
And He still trusted me with these little hearts.
I’m learning to whisper short prayers in the chaos — not fancy words, just honest ones.
“Lord, help me today.”
“Give me patience.”
“Help me not to yell.”
And somehow, in the middle of the mess, there is grace. Quiet strength. Enough for today.
If you’re in this same season, I pray you remember this:
You are not carrying this alone. God’s grace meets you right where you are — in the noise, in the tiredness, in the love.
One day at a time is enough. 🤍
A Short Prayer for Moms in This Season 🤍
Dear God,
Thank You for trusting me with these little lives.
On the days I feel overwhelmed, give me peace.
When my patience runs low, fill me with grace.
Help me love my children well — even when I’m tired.
And remind me that I am never carrying this alone.
Amen.
