The Love Will Multiply

Dear Nora,

We are only a few weeks away (at most) from having the dynamics of our little family change forever. We’re soon going to welcome your brother or sister into the world.

Three years ago, Daddy and I were eagerly anticipating your arrival. And when you finally came, you made us parents, and our lives have never been the same. Since then, you have been the one and only center of our worlds. We love you like you wouldn’t believe, and that will always be the case—but now we’re going to love someone else, too.

We’ve been doing everything we can to prepare you for the change. We talk about the baby a lot. We read books about new babies, being a big sister, and try to involve you in a lot of the preparation of the nursery, toys, clothes, names, etc. You seem to understand it all a little bit. You tell us that the baby is going to come out and play with you and Tessa. You insist you are going to help change diapers and feed the baby, that you’re going to hold him or her, and that you’re going to rock the baby to sleep.

Deep down, though, I know that you have no idea how much this is actually going to change your life. I know this because even I don’t know how much this is going to change our lives. It is so very hard to imagine having someone else in our family. Having someone else to worry about and incorporate into our daily routine. Even though we somewhat know what to expect based on our experience with you, there is still so much that seems foreign.

But I will tell you what I do know. I know that I will love you just as much as I do now—as they say, the love will multiply; not divide. I know that you will always be my baby, even when I have another. I also know that although there will be times you want your little brother or sister to go away, and there will be times that you fight like cats and dogs and drive Daddy and me crazy, that we are also giving you one of the greatest gifts that there is in life. Both Daddy and I value our relationships with our siblings, and can’t really imagine life without them. I hope that you feel that way some day, too.

This new little person will be someone who knows you your whole life. The only person who can relate to having Daddy and me as parents. He or she will be your built-in playmate; your companion in the backseat during road trips; your confidant when you get in trouble and don’t want Daddy or me to know about it.

You will teach this child so much. But you will also learn from him or her, too. I can’t wait to witness it.

In the meantime, I am doing what I can to cherish these last weeks, days, hours, and minutes with you as our only child. I’ll admit that at this point, it can be difficult to do. A lot of my focus is on willing this baby to make its way out very soon. I’m physically uncomfortable and tired. It’s hard to play with you. It’s hard to keep up with your pace. So yes, Daddy has been giving you most of your baths, and he’s been doing a lot of the playing. But I hold you a little longer. Hug you a little tighter. Listen more closely. Because I want to remember how you were during this time. Because even though I already marvel at how big you are and how much you’ve grown, I know that you’re only going to seem even bigger once we welcome someone so small.

Things are going to be different. I know it may take you time to adjust. I’ll remind myself to be patient, and I hope you’ll be patient with me, too. We’ll all be learning a new normal, after all. In so many ways, you are such a Mommy’s girl… I don’t want to lose that. I want you to know that I will always have time for you, even if I can’t be available at your every beck and call. You will always be special.

Oh, my sweet baby. My big girl. I love you to the moon and back. And I promise to never let you forget it.

With a million hugs and kisses,
Mommy