A Poem I received:
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 have 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. "Author Unknown
I got this in an email, months ago. After I had Jack, I couldn't read it cause I knew I'd cry. He'll be six weeks on Sunday, and this poem brings tears to my eyes.
It pretty much hits the nail on the head as far as my relationship with Makenna goes. Every year on her birthday i write her a letter. On her first birthday I wrote that it felt as though she was my best friend, and that my heart was outside my body. Over the last 3.5 years I have worked very hard to develop a close relationship with her - one that I hope will continue and serve us well into her teenage years. When I brought Jack home from the hospital, it's as if I brought my suitcase of "mommy guilt" along with me. I can't be there for her whenever she wants me to be, or even when I want to be. I can't always read to her, bake with her, play games with her...sometimes it's a struggle to get her lunch! The other day I was dealing with Jack and Makenna wanted me to do a puzzle with her. I told her I had to help Jack right then. Makenna, my 3 YEAR OLD, says to me "Oh, tomorrow will you be my mommy?" She just cut right through me and didn't even know it. Some of my friends believe she's smart enough that she knows how to push my buttons, and knows exactly what to say to get to me. I don't know about that, but it sure did get me. It was worse when I first brought Jack home, I thought I was betraying her, that she was being cheated, that she didn't ask for this and was suffering. I know now she's fine and will be fine. After all, she's not the first and only one to have a new baby in the house. Of course this makes sense. But when you bring a new baby home and you have all those hormones out of whack, I did feel as though I was scarring her for life by bringing in this "intruder".
Thankfully, she loves Jack. She just loves him to bits. I know they'll have their days, their battles. But she has loved him from day 1. and I love her for that.
On the rare evening when Jack is quiet and Makenna is in bed, I have snuck into her room and "snuggled" with her. She's in the wonderful state of sleepiness, where she isn't quite sure if she's dreaming or not. She cuddles right up to me and we whisper to eachother. I never did this with her before Jack was born. It is thanks to him that I have this new memory to share with her.
The mommy guilt is inescapable. It's really hard for me not to be everything she needs me to be, all the time. But I think she's starting to understand that I still love her and I'm still her mommy.
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