Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Dear Second Baby,

About a hundred years ago, I used to blog. I used to write down sweet and funny things that happened in our family. I used to pore over this keyboard and cry as I typed. I miss it like nuts. In my unpublished folder sits the skeleton of the story of Eddy's diabetes diagnosis and the story of the end of my first breast feeding relationship. Two very important stories in the life of this mama. Worth telling and worth finishing. One day.

But today, a different story is to be told. A story coming to an end, a story just on the verge of being born. When I was pregnant with Eddy, I wrote weekly love letters to my belly. Every moment was new and surprising and I felt so incredibly honored to be carrying his little life. That's not to say that I don't still feel those things but now our family looks so different. I'm working - some days, very hard - from home and my sweet boy carries with him health needs that require a lot of maintenance.

So this baby, whose name and face we don't know yet, is coming into a very different family than Eddy did. This baby doesn't have weekly love letters and suffice it to say, probably won't have monthly love letters either. I know that it may just be the age-old story of the second born but in a way, I feel that this baby is at an advantage. When you come into a family that has already brought another child into the world, you are welcomed by parents that know how to change diapers, that are pretty confident that we won't break you, and that know that the hard work of pregnancy and labor do indeed pay off.

I'm sorry, baby, that you don't have a journal of the funny things that people have said about the size of my belly or that I didn't tell you the story of how your big brother thought that you were a cat for several months. It, in no way, means I love you less. Just because of life, I haven't had as much time to sit still with just you and wonder about whether you have my nose or your papa's, whether your hair will be dark or fair, if you will have a birthmark. At this point in motherhood, I've learned that those things just don't matter. The wondering is so fun and we can't wait to start learning about all of your mysteries but we know that no matter the answers, we want it all.

You are coming into a family that already has a rhythm and we can't wait to have you add a new beat.



You are coming into a family that has seen darkness and knows how to navigate with the dimmest of lights (the secret is that together is so much easier than separate).




You are coming into a family that finds ways to laugh and be thankful everyday.




So this is your love letter. It is short and it may be only one but it is deep and rich, tried and true. Your love letter is written by a whole cast of members and we're all pretty good at being a family.

We are ready for you. We are waiting with breath that is bated.

You're gonna love us. I just know it.