One of the things my husband and I have talked a lot about lately is when we should start trying for a second child (no, I’m not pregnant). We both want to expand our family eventually but there’s this one little thing that makes me nervous and kinda holds me back. I’m going to tell you, but try not to judge me. Are you ready? Here it is: I’m afraid I won’t love my next child as much as I love my first child.
There. I said it.
I know, I know. You think I’m silly/crazy/selfish/whatever and maybe I am, but it’s a real concern of mine. I’ve talked about this quite a bit with my sister-in-law who feels the same way (see? I’m not totally alone on this!) and I think maybe we know in our heart of hearts that we would, of course, love our next child as much as our first. Because, logically, how could you not? But then on the other hand, there’s the feeling that a second child will somehow dim the relationship and love I have for my first. That maybe it won’t be as special because now there’s two.
The love I have for my baby is the greatest love I’ve ever known. It is all-consuming. It is unparalleled, unmatched, and unsurpassed by anything. And I just can’t imagine being lucky enough to feel that way twice in a lifetime. In the last year, she has become my little sidekick. My partner in crime. My buddy.
I love spending time with her and the thought of having to split my attention between her and another baby breaks my heart.The thought of not being there for only her and how she’ll handle that makes my heart ache. Knowing that there will be moments of frustration and short tempers and sharp comments that may potentially be directed at her already fill me with the worst kind of mom guilt.
So there it is. All laid out and ugly for all to see. The weird, twisted reasons behind my fear.
Oh sure, there are other reasons to be scared/nervous of having a second child. All of which have crossed my mind at some point. There’s the fact that there will be wayyyyy more work. From what I hear, twice the children does not mean twice the work, it’s more like four times the work. With Olivia, I feel like I’ve hit my stride, gotten in a groove, a rhythm, and it’s been… dare I say easy? I finally got this mom thing down and another baby is gonna come in and be like, psshhh!
And also, Olivia is such a good baby, has such a good temperament, a good sleeper, a great eater, an all around happy child. I know you’re all thinking screw you right about now, but trust me, I don’t attribute it to my good parenting skills. I just got lucky and I think I now owe the universe for having such a good first child that my second child will for sure be a monster. I mean, right??
And those reasons are valid too. And I’m sure we could all think of a bunch more reasons if we really wanted to shit our pants. But that’s not the point of this post. Maybe the point of this is to talk myself off the ledge. To remind myself that there is nothing like a newborn baby. And perhaps the only thing better than a brand new baby is watching your first child hold that brand new baby. Maybe I’m suggesting that instead of a second child shoving your firstborn over and squeezing itself into your heart, maybe your heart just grows. At least that’s what I hope.
In the meantime, I’m just going to keep snuggling my one and only as much as possible.
Anyone else ever have these thoughts? Any moms with more than 1 baby feel this way?
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