Two Kids, One Happy Mama

"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 ever love another child as I love you? Then he is born, and I watch you. I watch the pain you feel at having to share me as you’ve 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 new baby as an intruder on the precious relationship we once shared. A relationship we can never quite 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 him, 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 else is replacing those wonderful times we shared, just we 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 he adores you – as I have for so long. I see how excited you are by each of his new accomplishments. And 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 now 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." 

This poem, author unknown, is called "Loving Two." My sister sent it to me a while ago when I was still pregnant with Tater Tot. I was telling them (my mom and my sisters) my apprehension about having two kids and how I just didn't feel ready to share my time yet. I of course went on to tease my sisters that mom loves me most because I came first. They're good sports and let me bully them. 

While I desperately miss being able to devote all my time to Jellybean sometimes, I find time during the day to make sure he gets my undivided attention. Usually it comes at bedtime when I force Matt to watch Tater Tot so I can have that precious bedtime with Jellybean. I think Matt's finally starting to realize just how important that alone time with my first born really is. At the same time, I don't feel any resentment or regret or anything negative towards my second born. He is very easily, effortlessly, and adorably working his way into my heart. To whoever wrote this poem, I think any second time mom who reads it will be extremely grateful. I love my boys differently but equally, fiercely, passionately. I absolutely love the way Jellybean has welcomed his brother into his life, into our life. He LOVES giving him kisses, being affectionate with him and patting him, and he loves helping out, like throwing away diapers. He's infatuated with his little brother and seeing them interact melts my heart to a billion pieces. Sure I miss being able to dedicate time to my oldest and not have to worry about how my newborn is doing, but I love being a mom to both my boys even more, a billion times more. These kids are meant to be mine, and they're meant to be this close in age. I'm meant to be a mother to two under two, it's all part of a path that I'm supposed to be on, and I'm so happy with that.