Holy Crap on a Cracker, Part Two

Well, "you" won't just mean you any longer, Nora Bean. You're about to get a sibling in seven months or so, so for this particular post, "you" is going to be the other you, the one growing just now....

"Holy crap on a cracker!" is what I thought when I found out we were expecting your sister. Somehow, and maybe it's just because it's early yet (only about nine weeks), I'm not feeling as terrified as the prospect of your arrival. I'm actually looking forward to doing all those things over again and not being so afraid while I do them! Of course, you'll be your own person and you'll not like the same things or behave the same way, but when your sister arrived, I had probably not changed four diapers in my life, had no friends I could call who had breastfed exclusively, and just generally didn't know what I was doing. Hopefully, I'll have a little better sense of what I'm doing this time around.


Your uncle will empathize with you for life, because as the second child, he swears there are no photographs of him, no stories, that he has very few baby things that weren't mine first, that his baby book is a complete blank. But I'm going to promise you something up front - I'm going to do my best to make you know that your arrival is just as special and as exciting as hers was. This will be hard for you to understand maybe, but her arrival will always be special because she was first, and that arrival was filled with fear and anxiety and expectations and anticipation, but your arrival will always be special because I knew just how much work it would entail and didn't mind at all, it will just be the anticipation and the excitement - that wasn't the case the first time around, because I had no idea what I was getting into and I spent so much time afraid and nervous. Two things can be different and still be equally wonderful - sun and rain, chocolate and mashed potatoes, books and movies - and know in your hearts that your mama loved you from the very first for being just who you were to her, just what your sister was to her: her special baby.

I've had moms tell me that they were afraid they couldn't possibly love a second child as much (of course, they quickly learn how wrong they are), but I've not had a glimmer, even a trace of that - I'm full of confidence that you will bring love into the world with you, love that I didn't know existed before your sister arrived, but that it will be a special love that's just for you. I can't tell you how much I'm excited to meet you and hold you and kiss you, to welcome discovering yet again how much more love there is in the world than we can ever possibly know until we experience it. So stay warm and cozy in there, think peaceful thoughts, and try to ignore your sister clambering all over you when she wants a story - you'll get to pay her back and eventually you'll want me to read "The Gingerbread Man" to you 900 times in a row too. Love, Mama....