An Emotional Confession

Can I be honest about something?

I had a bit of a breakdown last Thursday. It started when Craig called me while I was grocery shopping to ask what our plans would be for Will when we went to the hospital. (Why that was the best time to bring up the conversation, I have no idea.) We had talked about it briefly before and it really all depends on when it happens, what time of day, how urgent, etc. But I told him I didn't want to talk about it right then and barely made it out to my car before I burst into tears. I cried the whole way home and harder than I've cried in a long time. It came out of no where really. I have been fine and really looking forward to the birth. But for some reason, I can't stand the thought of leaving Will. The truth is: I'm still feeling so guilty about how all this is going to change Will's world. I feel like I'm going to have the hardest time actually leaving for the hospital because it is going to be so final! I know, I know - I'm just broadening our family and I'm bringing Will a playmate and he will learn to love her very much and everything will be fine. My HEAD knows this. But I guess I'm just kind of banking on all that and I haven't really believed it in my heart. I have no concern that I won't love Sophia enough or that I won't be ready to be her mother or have enough love for both of them. But Will is my baby too! And it just breaks my heart to think that I'm taking that away from him and that he will temporarily think that I've replaced him or that I love him less. Thinking this way while I'm supposed to be feeling focused and strong for labor makes me want to just give birth at home or not even go through with it... which is obviously a dumb thought, not to mention impossible.

So when I got home, Craig came out to the car to help me unload groceries and my eyes were all red and he wanted to know what/how I was feeling and to help him understand. I said I just needed a few minutes to collect myself and, thankfully, he respected that. I scooped up my little boy who was asking "hold you?" and focused my attention on just being with him for awhile. I don't know why this is so hard for me! But ultimately, I'm glad it came to the surface because I think I just needed to let it out. I needed a good cry and I needed to realize my feelings. After Will was in bed, Craig and I had dinner separately and talked. I told him I know I sounded nuts and he said he doesn't think I'm nuts and that it's not fair to judge how someone FEELS because it's an emotion and beyond their control, so he tries to understand me. After regaining a sound mind and some composure, we were able to make a tenative plan for Will's care while we're gone. The thing is, it's not the same as if we were going on vacation without Will. We are about to change his whole world! And if I'm going to be away from my home for 2-3 days and not taking care of my son, I want him to feel the most "normal" about his life that he can instead of wondering "where is mommy?" and "why did she leave?" I know that both of our families will do a wonderful job taking care of him and we decided that Craig will come home at night so that Will can sleep in his own bed. So whomever is watching him in the evenings will need to be at OUR house doing his normal bedtime routine. That's very important to me.

I am so happy we were able to talk this through and I'm also so relieved to just have it out there and acknowledge and work through how I'm feeling because I want to have a clear mind and be able to focus on this baby as she deserves. It will still be hard to leave Will, but I KNOW it will all be okay and I'm able to believe that now.

A friend of mine shared a poem with me by an unknown author that is so perfectly fitting in our life story right now. It expresses how I feel, and while it's hard to read without crying, it does have a joyful ending and helps me feel positive about how our lives will change:

LOVING TWO

I walk along holding your 1-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 she is born, and I watch you. I watch the pain you feel at having to share me as you've 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 cant, 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. Im afraid to let you see me enjoying her 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 she adores you as I have for so long. I see how excited you are by each of her 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 is 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.