Sunday, January 27, 2008

The time has come....

Last post- September?!
How does this happen? How do I manage to fall of the face of the earth for over four months? It all begins with a little word...a sneaky little word...a helpful little word...a word that you use to instantly squash the impending sense of "I need to get (fill in the blank) done". The word that flushes away the feeling of must-do that annoyingly grates and scrapes away at your nerves as you try to tackle day to day existence:

LATER

"I'll mail those thank you notes later." "I'll pick those up later." "I'll post my pregnant thoughts in these upcoming days leading to my baby's delivery later." "I'll wash my hair later." "I'll do those dishes later."

Pretty soon you've given birth to a darling baby girl, your hair smells like leftover pasta roni, nobody is aware that you've even received the baby gifts they've sent, and you can't remember your pre-delivery thoughts and feelings because you're entirely too wrapped up in a new moment with a beautiful baby girl.

I'm not even going to attempt to sum up all that I've missed in these past few months. Millions of moments with Lily and Tyler that should have been recorded....ooodles of thoughts on pregnancy and my baby's arrival....I must drop the guilt now. Lily needed lunch. I needed a shower. The carpet had to be vacuumed. Five months passed. Oops.

So, without any further ado....drumroll please...read below

You're here!

LONDON RAE,


Aren't you beautiful? Aren't you lovely? Aren't you wonderful?

Before having your second child, any parent would be lying to you if they said that they didn't have slight concerns in the wee hours of the night as they pondered the arrival of numero dos. Concerns such as:

Will I love this baby as much as I love Lily?

Where will the new baby's carseat go? Lily's car seat is in the middle of my car, and hence in the technically safest place. The new baby will now occupy this seat. Am I admitting that I value the safety of my second child due to her fragile and very new nature over the safety of my precious Lily? Why are there no second middle seats? Double middle seats?!!!

And although you have been assured by countless parents that yes, indeed, you will love the second as much as the first, you never really, fully believe it. You reserve a small corner of your mind for the doubt that says you just might be the one soul-less freak of nature that has a love capacity limit, one that has already been filled.

And then it happened...after hours of miserable, vomiting, shaking contractions and a desire to check out of human existence rather than go on...they held you up. You were here. And it was instant. So instant it sounds silly and cliche but nonetheless I speak the honest truth when I say it was instant. Your face, your body, that little crinkled and almost angry little cry as they held you up to your new life , your new family, your new adoring and admittedly obsessive mother.

And you are perfect. So blessedly perfect.

When Lily was born, as she has grown I continually think "Oh, she is so perfect. She is exactly what I would have wanted my daughter to be. I love her looks. I love her personality. I love her sassy spunk and darling attitude and golden little curls. I couldn't ask for more."
And yet since you have arrived, I marvel that I am saying the same thing: "You are so perfect! Exactly what I would have picked my daughter to look like, exactly the sweet disposition I would have wanted a daughter to have. I love your eyes and your dark head of hair. I couldn't ask for more."
Apparently perfection doesn't have just one definition. Love like this really doesn't have a capacity. And now late at night, instead of worrying whether or not I will be able to love you both equally, I can sleep soundly knowing that you both have a mother that loves you both individually more that words will ever express. And if something were ever to happen to this obsessive and adoring mother, you two will always have each other.
My two perfect, darling little girls.
I couldn't have asked for more...