A sneak peek from our recent family photo shoot at Longwood Gardens, with April Ziegler Photography
I am 35 weeks pregnant, which means this baby could be here really soon, or weeks from now. I think you all know by know how much I love surprises. So, this does not bother me. Like, at all.
[insert sarcastic emoji here].
All of the uncertainty associated with the end of pregnancy can produce the wildest thought patterns ever.
“I would deliver this kid myself, in the bathtub, just so she will stop resting on this bundle of nerves somewhere in my pelvis, that I didn’t even know existed.”
Five minutes later…
“Actually, I hope that this kid doesn’t decide to come on a Sunday night. I don’t want to miss Downtown Abbey.”
Or, when trying to get dressed in the morning:
“Ugh. I cannot wait to burn all of these maternity clothes.”
Two minutes later…
“These maternity leggings are just so. freaking. comfortable. Can I wear them even after the baby comes?”
Or, when I see two little girls, who I assume are sisters, being adorable to each other in Target:
“Awww…having two little girls is going to be amazing. B is going to be the best big sister ever!” [cue happy tears]
Less than a minute later, when said girls start pulling each other’s hair and the older one threatens to push the little one out of the cart…
“Holy shit. What was I thinking? We should have just gotten a goldfish!” [cue panicked sobs]
There is one thing I’m sure of though: I will miss B.
Obviously, she isn’t going anywhere, but there is such a short amount of time left time where she will be my one and only.
During the past two and a half years (and more than that, if you count all of those months of pregnancy), B has been the center of my world. I have gotten to know every little thing about her. All of her firsts are cataloged, in painstaking detail, in my memory. I have felt my heart break a little every morning when I realize that she looks a little more grown up than she did when I put her to bed the night before. When she has been happy, excited, sad, frustrated or sick, I’ve felt all of those things right along with her.
I have felt pretty guilty during this pregnancy, because it seems like the only time I am completely focused on this new baby are those 30 seconds at the doctor’s office each month when I get to hear her heartbeat. When I think about this baby, B always pops into my head first.
“How will B react to a sibling?”
“Will B feel like she is being replaced when we move her out of her crib and put baby number two in it?”
“How will I make time for B when I’m caring for a newborn?”
And, so on.
I am prepared to feel overwhelmed for awhile as we settle into being a family of four (Heck, I still feel like we are trying to settle in to being a family of three, sometimes. So, at least we are accustomed to chaos at this point). But, I can’t say that I relate to the worry that I lot of second-time parents have, which is that they won’t love their new baby as much as their first. I am pretty sure that our hearts are like the Grinch’s—they can just expand when the situation calls for it. I know that the moment my second little girl is placed in my arms, I’ll fall in love.
It’s hard to find the right words to express what I feel about B. The only way I can sum it up is that there will always be something special about her.
She is the one who made us a family. She lets me make all of those first time parent mistakes and doesn’t hold a grudge. She was the first person to make me cry out of frustration, exhaustion, fear and happiness, all at once. She was the one who made me realize that love can be both overwhelmingly simple and incredibly complex. She made the scariest thing I have ever done, the best thing I have ever done.
B might not remember a time when she had me all to herself. But, I always will.