If anything screams second child, let it be the fact that I am typing this post one-handed while I snuggle my second-born in her sixth week of life.

As I watch my second daughter with fresh eyes through the postpartum haze, I have allowed my brain to wander, and in these moments, I have collected a few coherent musings about my experience as a second-time mom.

1. Avoiding comparison is much easier said than done.

One of my biggest complaints about my childhood was the feeling of comparison that shrouded my existence. As the third child, I often heard “why can’t you be more like your sister?” and felt that my label as the “funny social one” has been a deep wound I have worked to remove throughout my adulthood. As a third child following two high-achieving siblings, there wasn’t space for me to be smart or a high achiever, so I fit in where I could. This wound has left me feeling conviction about the importance of not labeling children and allowing space for each child to have their unique and distinct experiences free from judgment and comparison.

But six weeks into becoming a mother of two, I realize this is much easier said than done. Comparison allows us to make sense of our unique experiences. It is hard to describe my postpartum journey without comparing it to my first. This time is easier, this baby cries less, her hair is darker, eyes are lighter. It is natural in the way we communicate and categorize our feelings. Even my daughter will ask “Did I sleep this much?” or “Was my hair this long when I was born?” It is a natural response to something new, and I have found myself making a conscious effort to course correct, but it is much easier said than done.

2. Guilt can be overwhelming the second time around.

In my midnight scroll while feeding the baby, I came across a video of a mom who mused that she wished she could have been the mother she is to her second with her first. I immediately burst into tears because it put into words the way I have been feeling. I have had moments when I am overwhelmed with guilt that I have enjoyed this postpartum experience more, that I relish in the baby snuggles, and that I am spending more time at home this time around. It is hard not to be overwhelmed with guilt that I am doing more, am more regulated, and more confident this time.

3. In some areas I feel more confident, but I have become a different type of parent to both children.

My expectation was that becoming a second-time mom would mean that I would parent the same just with a bit more experience. Instead, I am noticing how much my parenting has evolved. I am more confident in some ways and less concerned about doing everything “right”. However, I am also parenting a four-year-old while caring for a newborn, which requires a constant shift between two very different developmental worlds. I have to stay regulated, though I want to panic that my four-year-old accidentally kicked my newborn in the face. I am learning that being the parent my children need does not always mean being the same parent to both of them; sometimes one needs my patience while the other needs my attention. One needs me to hold a boundary while the other just needs me to hold her.

4. The first child made me a parent. The second is refining this identity.

My first daughter changed everything. She made me a mother and taught me what it meant to love someone so deeply that my entire sense of self could shift overnight. But becoming a mother for the second time feels different. There is less of a transformation into parenthood and more of a refinment. I am figuring out which parts of motherhood feel like me and which expectations I can let go of. I am realizing that motherhood is not a destination at which you arrive but more of a becoming. It is something that continues to evolve at every stage and at every version of myself.

Becoming a second-time mom has not just given me another baby to love and care for. It has given me an opportunity to look at myself as a mother and decide what to carry forward and what I want to leave behind.

I know there will be a million more lessons to come, but for now, I want to keep typing one-handed, soaking up the newborn snuggles, and reminding myself that I don’t have to be the same mother I was the first time around. I just have to be the mother my children need me to be today.