The reality of our situation is beginning to dawn on The Poo.
This weekend, our Sunday began as they almost always do, when we are living in ordinary time. The girl called out to us, and we fetched her.
The sun was shining and daddy was finally home.
In between us in the big bed, The Poo snuggled and giggled and kissed our faces, love raining down on all three of us like a much needed shower.
She touched my belly and made a remark about her baby brother, and all of a sudden, a mop of curly hair burrowed under my shoulder.
“Don’t forget me,” came a small voice.
“What, baby? Why on earth would we forget you?” I asked, cupping her face in my hands.
“When Shaggy comes,” she wept. “Don’t forget me!”
Her father and I busied ourselves comforting her, eyes meeting over her head. I saw my own shattered heart reflected in the blue gaze of my husband.
“Oh, my Poo, my sweetness, my best girl,” I cooed, holding her. “We could never, ever forget you!”
“You made us a family, Poo,” my husband added. “We love you so much. We will always love you exactly the same as we do right now. Do you believe us?”
She sat up, my brown-eyed beauty, and nodded. She rubbed her face with her small fists.
“I have tears!” she said, seemingly surprised.
Oh, how I ache for her. How I wish I could tell her it will be OK. I have told her, but she’s three - how can she possibly fathom that she won’t be replaced with a newer model, a boy baby?
Tonight before she went to sleep we had a tussle over juice vs. water at bedtime, and I lost my patience. I am tired and sore and just about as finished with pregnancy as I can be. I snapped at her and she cried, begging me for a hug.
We were both tired. I know she won’t remember it in the morning.
But I will. I will remember it always, as just one more time I wasn’t loving enough toward her in these last days as our one and only. I want so much for her to understand that she is my very own heart, walking this earth outside my body.
That I would gladly trade my life for hers, were it to come to that.
It is late, nearly a new day. I hear her breathing over the baby monitor, one soon to be placed in a new room for a new soul.
And all I want to do is go to her, scoop her into my arms, and sleep next to her, curled like a comma around her small, precious body.
But I won’t. Because I am too swollen and big to do so. And because she needs her rest, alone, in her big girl bed.
So she sleeps, and I lay awake, aching.
August 1st, 2008 at 12:23 am
how do you make it all sound so beautiful?
August 1st, 2008 at 2:04 am
Im awake at midnight, 39 weeks prego with my second, and thinking about my little 5 year old…asleep, knowing he’s been feeling, anticipating the changes ahead. Thanks for writing your feelings (and mine too, without knowing it) so well!
August 1st, 2008 at 6:28 am
Oh, break my heart, that sweet little girl.
August 1st, 2008 at 6:42 am
she’s so sweet. And you’re right, she won’t remember, but you will. She’ll be fine - you all will and one day soon you won’t be able to remember very clearly what it was like with just one little one around.
August 1st, 2008 at 7:53 am
You write so beautifully about this. Its hard to feel like we’ve broken their hearts but the hearts mend quickly and will send much more love your way.
August 1st, 2008 at 7:54 am
There’s a part of me that wishes I could keep this little guy inside me for a few years. My daughter is so precious. I’m scared I’ll miss things with her (and with him).
August 1st, 2008 at 8:40 am
Oh sweetie, I do know how you feel. Before I had Amelia I would just look at Madeline and feel such guilt. Not only for what I was going to do to her little life by bring in this new baby, but also imagining that I could never love this new baby quite and deeply and wholly as I loved my first. Of course all of these things worked themselves out quickly once Amelia was here. But the unknown was just as frightening for Madeline as it was for me. Soon the Poo and you won’t know life any different than it will be. It won’t all be easy but it will all be worth it.
August 1st, 2008 at 9:06 am
This was hands down the hardest part for me while pregnant.When I was in the hospital and when came I came home it almost killed me. BUT once we all got back into some kind of a groove, not the same one, but similar, I found it wasn’t so hard. I didn’t feel so removed and Finn was completely in the mix. Don’t despair. It will be OK.
August 1st, 2008 at 9:34 am
Oh my goodness! How utterly precious of her.
Steph
August 1st, 2008 at 11:16 am
As one who has been there, I am teary myself. But your dad was right; first is first.
I can’t wait for you to have him so you and she will both see that it will be okay.
August 1st, 2008 at 11:27 am
The mark of an awesome mom, it that they worry about doing enough, being enough for their kids. She’s lucky to have you.
I don’t know if this is helpful right now or not (because I remember feeling this way), but it will be okay. It will, I promise. Once he’s born, she’ll adjust and you will too. You’ll find your way (and your patience) again. In some ways, two is easier than one. Maybe not in the very beginning but after awhile. Even though my first was my first and my second was another girl, somehow you find that you love them equally and with every fiber of your being. In different ways and for different reasons maybe, but equally. Our hearts are made to grow.
August 1st, 2008 at 11:41 am
::sob::
Seriously.
TEARS.
August 1st, 2008 at 11:58 am
When she’s 16, and tells you to “Kiss my ass” you’ll think back on these days and sigh…
Time IS a thief…
August 1st, 2008 at 12:00 pm
Oh please please don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone loses their temper. Everyone has those moments where they think “it was just because we’re tired”. She’ll be fine. She’ll be great. And when Shaggy joins your family, she’ll be the BIG SISTER. shower her in love.
I always make an effort when I go to see a new baby to speak first to the older sibling whose nose is slightly out of joint. To “fool them up” so to speak. Make sure they feel special. Then I turn my attention to the new little one. (thanks to my mum for that advice)
Have a chat with family and friends and ask them to hop in board with making sure the Poo knows she’s still your heart! That you’ll never forget her.
August 1st, 2008 at 12:37 pm
What a sweet girl but you are a good mama and she knows she’s loved.
August 1st, 2008 at 12:50 pm
Sweet little poo. It won’t be long until you can comfortably curl up beside her again. She’ll feel your love, regardless: it shines through in this post.
August 1st, 2008 at 1:05 pm
In a couple of years she and her brother will be playing together and you’ll realize (if only for a few minutes) that they need only each other.
I remember those feelings as K’s birth neared. Nothing anyone said helped, but they were all right.
August 1st, 2008 at 1:19 pm
Oh Amy, you haven’t failed her. She is being 3 - simply 3. I know that ache though. Even though my oldest was only 18 months and hadn’t even caught on that his world was going to be changing with the addition of a baby brother or sister - I ached for the baby him, the just us. And I was more scared for him than myself at that point.
And guess what? It was fine…
You will be too.
August 1st, 2008 at 5:49 pm
You are so amazing. All you will ever have to do is let the Poo read these posts when she’s older, and she will not be able to deny your love for her in any way. You are such an amazing writer. Parenthood is heartbreaking, but you make it sound so beautiful at the same time. Thank you!
August 1st, 2008 at 8:03 pm
So eloquently put. We are on the verge of trying to conceive our second, and our daughter is 3 now, so I’m anticipating those kinds of worries. I do think though that the fears of what will happen are far worse than the reality, especially when she sees she has a baby brother to love.
August 1st, 2008 at 8:26 pm
I think you may be contracting and twittering at the same time!! Groundbreaking! I remember how I mourned what I thought was the end of an era with my daughter once my son arrived. I wept. My heart broke. Now we all know what a true gift we gave ourselves by adding to the family. The emotional adjustment was not easy for me. Never is.
Wishing you so much love and happiness!! What a wonderful mixed up and fantastic time you are about to have!!
August 1st, 2008 at 10:34 pm
Being a momma can be so hard.
August 2nd, 2008 at 9:49 am
Reading poo’s words brought tears to my eyes. I don’t know how you do it, but you do it so beautifully.
August 7th, 2008 at 4:36 pm
You hit a heart string for me today, that is for sure. Beautiful.