Friday, February 4, 2011

A Letter to Baby Two

Dear Baby Two,

Hi, this is your mama. I don't know you at all yet. I am not skilled at that intuition stuff that is supposed to make me feel as if I know you already even though you are only the size of a pineapple. Even so, this early in our lives together, I would already like to apologize to you. I think I have neglected you the last eight months. By the time I was this far along with G, I had filled almost an entire journal of mama musings. I had painted G's room, bought her new furniture, looked at a million day cares, washed all of her new newborn clothes in special baby detergent and stenciled green stars over her crib.

For you? I have done nothing. I even keep forgetting to order newborn diapers. Even worse, the only time I really think of you in a live, little human person way, and not as an octopus in my belly with eight arms hitting me from all angles, is when I think of you in the context of how it will affect G. I wonder if this is the beginning of a your life of neglect from your mama. Oh dear, I can already see you reading that birth order book when you're 10 and drawing conclusions that are bound to make me feel bad.

So, let me just say now, before you're even out: I'm sorry. It's just that G was here first, Two, and therefore, she is all that I can think about and all that I can fathom loving so much and all that I imagine having in my life. I just can't wrap my head around you. G has been this gale-like force that has knocked me on my butt, slapped me around a bit, but ultimately has lead me to discover the real use for my heart. What more can you do that G has not already done? And then to top it off, I don't know how you will win: I worry how I will cope if you are like G (screaming banshee for eight months), but then I worry how I will react if you are not like G (chatty toddler who likes to sing along to such bands as The Beatles, Paramore and Patty Griffin. )

You are following a tough act, Little Person in there, and I am sorry about that. That's just the way it is. Which reminds me, I should probably make sure I remove G's name from over your crib...

Sheesh, maybe I should just give you the birth order book as you exit the womb.