My friend is 9 months pregnant with her second born, a little sister for her beloved toddler son. Everyone is excited for her, but I know along with excitement she's nervous, uncertain and downright scared about being a Mummy of two! One of my main worries before the birth of my second born was the big question you're not allowed to ask:
"WHAT IF I DON'T LOVE THIS ONE AS MUCH AS THE FIRST ONE??!?"
My first baby was my right hand man, my soul mate, my best friend, my baby, my whole heart toddling around outside my body. I was obsessed with him. He was the smartest, coolest, funniest, sweetest, snuggliest baby in the entire history of babies. I couldn't even fathom spending 48 hours apart from him (to do something as trivial as giving birth to the poor sad second baby). I couldn't imagine loving anyone else with the sheer power of love I had for him.
My poor, poor second baby. I would love him, probably a huge amount. But I could never possibly love him as much as I loved my first born. It was a given he would be second born and second best for his entire life. Poor baby. How sad.
My concerns about being a mother of two were entirely first-born centric. He was the centre of the universe and there was no way I was going to change that. He must continue to be the centre of our world. The baby would just have to fit in around him.
And he did. For a bit.
I loved the new baby. I loved him with a painful, throbbing, chest imploding kind of love just like my first baby. I was ready claw the eyes out of anyone who could possibly hurt him (including the doctors in special care!). His little baby fingers and toes were made to be nibbled. His cuddles turned me to mush. His cries made me jump to attention. His coos made my brain melt.
But he was just a baby. He could fit in around the centre of the universe. He did get dragged along to toddler groups, french lessons and soft plays when he would have been happier at home staring into my eyes and lying skin to skin on my chest.
And then he wasn't a baby anymore, or at least not a newborn. He made his own place in our world. He crow-barred himself into the centre of the universe spot. Smack bang in the middle. With his brother. The two of them somehow fit perfectly into the space that one of them used to fill.
My second born son is, unbelievably, JUST as amazing as my first born.
He's everything my first born son was to me. I am obsessed with him. He's my partner, my bestie, the love of my life. He's the cutest, loveliest, cheekiest, bravest, friendliest, squeezable-est baby in the entire history of babies. I can't bear to be apart from him. I can't imagine how I could possibly love anyone with the sheer power of love I have for him. Except his big brother. Because all that love still stands for the first born. Every last drop of it.
So, I don't know how, but it DOES happen. You can and do love both your children the same. The incredible bond between you and your first baby won't be damaged by them sharing you. You will, somehow, don't ask me how, have a bond just as strong with your second baby. The overwhelming love you feel for your firstborn doesn't diminish. I'm still blown away by how amazing my firstborn is, but now I have double that.
If I'd read this before having my second baby I wouldn't have understood. If you're about to have your second you probably won't get it either. Just trust me. That second baby is going to be as awesome as the one you're currently head over heels in love with... Once they stop being a newborn!
|Me and my boy, holding the baby before we knew he would become our best bestest buddy.|