Guys, motherhood the second time around is different. Not better, not worse. Just different.

There have been major adjustments made by me and Sophie. Since she’s only barely three, I can’t tell you exactly what it’s been like for her, but I think we’re doing okay, considering the sleep deprivation, major life change and epic tantrums. Oh, the tantrums. Yes, in some ways parenting is more difficult this time, simply because I’m now chasing around a toddler who is still 95% dependent upon me for everything she needs.

You go through childbirth once and think you’ve got it all figured out. You think it will go (mostly) like it did the first time. And even though you think to yourself, I hope it goes so fast that I don’t need an epidural, you have no idea what you’ve really just asked for. And when you get it, you think back to that movie you watched about natural childbirth and want to punch the person in the balls who edited out the parts where the mothers are puking from the pain of going through transitional labor without drugs.

Without going into extreme detail, let me say it pretty much ramped up and was over in an hour, without the luxury of an epidural. While it was the most vivid and painful experience of my life, if I had to do it again, I’m not sure I would opt for the drugs. Not that it was “better” than my experience with Sophie; it was just different. Fast, furious, different.

I look at that photo of me, exhausted yet simultaneous jacked up on adrenaline and completely happy. I miss that moment. This time around, I did my best to fully appreciate every first moment, knowing this would be the last rodeo for this cowgirl.

And as you can probably imagine, I think he’s pretty much the greatest thing ever. It’s been exactly one month, and I’m still completely in love with him. I like to think he thinks I’m okay, too.