Yesterday we were given the eviction date for the new baby. In exactly 10 weeks (from yesterday), our newest addition will arrive into this world. It was both an exciting moment, and one plagued with fear and sadness.
After I got all the information, I informed family members and then I looked at my daughter. I felt instant sadness and guilt. Right now she gets all the attention from us, but in just 2 months, she won't have that 100% of the time. I felt sad thinking she won't really grasp why. I think what she WILL grasp is some new baby came into the house and stole her thunder. I think she will be sad and feel left out and I don't want her feeling that way. It broke my heart (still does) to look at her and I felt guilty thinking I am the one putting that on her.
I have tried to tell her that "sister" is on the way but at 2, one can't really understand that. She understands that mommy has "a really full belly" (her words) as she pats it. She will also pat my tummy and say "that's sister right there" but I know she has no clue what that REALLY means.
For her, I feel sad. I don't ever want her to feel left out - ever. But I know there will be times she will need to learn patience because I will have to attend to a newborn over her needs sometimes. For me, I feel sad. Sad that I won't have that one on one interaction with her that I do now. I will miss her being my one and only.
I had a friend tell me she cried all the way to the hospital with her 2nd one because she felt this way - and I have a feeling I will do the same thing.
A dear friend of mine sent this to me that I keep reading. The beginning part is just so hard for me to read right now because that's how I feel. I know it will all work out, but I just feel a lot of emotions and guilt.
I walk along holding your 2-year-old hand, basking in the glow of our magical relationship. Suddenly I feel a kick from within, as if to remind me that our time alone is limited. And I wonder, how could I love another child as I love you?
Then she is born, and I watch you. I watch as the pain you feel at having to share me as you have never shared me before. I hear you telling me in your own way, "Please love only me" and I hear myself telling you in mine "I can't".
Knowing in fact that I never can again. You cry, I cry with you.
I almost see our baby as an intruder on the precious relationship we once shared.
A relationship we can never have again.
But then, barely noticing, I find myself attached to that new being, and feeling almost guilty. I'm afraid to let you see me enjoying her -- as though I am betraying you. But then I notice your resentment change, first to curiosity, then to protectiveness, finally to genuine affection.
More days pass, and we are settling into a new routine. The memory of days with just the two of us is fading fast. But something is replacing those wonderful times we shared, just us two.
There are new times -- only now we are three. I watch the love between you grow, the way you look at each other, touch each other. I watch how she adores you, as I have for so long. I see how excited you are by each of her new accomplishments.
I begin to realize that I haven't taken something from you, I've given something to you.
I notice that I am no longer afraid to share my love openly with both of you.
I find that my love for each of you is as different as you are, but equally strong.
And my question is finally answered to my amazement. Yes, I can love another child as much as I love you, only differently.
And although I realize that you may have to share my time, I know you'll never share my love. There's enough of that for both of you -- you each have your own supply.
I love you both and I thank you both for blessing my life.