The Thing That Scares Me Most About This Pregnancy
I know people mean well, but it rubs me the wrong way when older parents tell me to "Enjoy it, because it goes by so quickly." Also, I'm not a fan of hearing about how "big" my toddler daughter is going to seem to me after I give birth to my second child in a few weeks. I'm not a fan, because I know it's true. And to be honest, I'm completely dreading that moment.
For the last two-and-a-half blissful years (which, yes, have been peppered with some not-so-blissful moments), my daughter has been my baby. My one and only. My little girl, who, even though she no longer looks so little on the outside, is still so small to me. She's the angel I cuddle with at night; the little bean who sweetly asks me, "Mama, rock you like a baby?" when she wants me to hold her and sway her back and forth. She is, as all parents feel about their kids, my everything. My sweet little bunny, as I call her. And the thought of her instantly growing up, like we're in some sort of time-lapse video, makes me want to cry. (It has made me cry.)
But it's coming, I know. Just as my daughter appears so old and wise whenever we visit a friend's newborn baby, she's instantly going to become "big" when I give birth to my second. I know. In a matter of moments, she will go from being my baby girl to being my oldest; a big sister. And as much as I'm thrilled to be having another and can't wait to meet the little guy inside of me, I really don't think I'm quite ready for this part of the equation yet. Can't I have it both ways? Is it not possible to have twobabies?
On my less hormonal days (which are fewer and farther between lately), I realize that, in a lot of ways, she will still be one of my babies -- the older one -- and it's simply a dynamic shift that's about to happen. NBD, right? But when I think about her walking into the hospital room, dressed in something that's not a onesie and wearing Doc McStuffins underwear, I, quite honestly, can barely take it. I imagine all memories of being in the hospital with her when she was first born will come flooding back in the form of a crying, blubbery, emotional mess.
I still have a few weeks to go, so right now I'm soaking up every moment that I can with my daughter. In fact, some probably think I'm babying her more than usual as of late, but you know what? I don't care. This is what feels right to me -- and, clearly, her -- these days. If she wants me to rock her like a baby, I'm going to do it. (I'll do it forever.) I know everything will change once I have another little one -- and it will probably soon be hard to picture life without two -- but for now, trying to imagine my only child as oneof my children is kind of a hard pill to swallow.
And so to my daughter: Like your favorite book says, little bunny, "I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."
