I just went back and read the posts from
May of 2007, written in the last weeks before Talia was born. I am glad so much of it is familiar, but wonder at my optimism - how unlike me, and unlikely.
Eighteen months later and much is the same. I am in awe of my husband yet again, shouldering so much responsibility for his family and finding reserves to carry me through some of the more rough terrain of these last weeks. He is a better father than I was guessing he would be which is saying something because even before Talia was born I had pretty high expectations of how he was going to do.
This next Johnson also has a fondness for pushing my organs around and yet again, I am so looking forward to meeting this one in the flesh to find out if they are indeed mellower than their sister.
New to the 2008 version is Talia of course. She is hilarious and we are laughing near her a LOT these days. We say often that a sibling can't come fast enough for this girl as she lingers in the centre of the spotlight most of most days. She sings to herself often, likes to grab hands and pull people to where they ought to be, liked colouring until the last crayon got lost, and has at least 4 friends to put to bed before she can fall asleep (Effie the Elephant, Monkey, Bunny and Rabbit - we're not strong namers in the house). She has a lot to say and lots of words to say it with. She will stand in front of something she is not allowed to touch and say, "No, no, no, no. Stop it." She has a special fondness for Daddy and for swimming. Life is best if she can have both at the same time. After all my silly panic, it turns out she is a great eater and eats most things, most times with the current exception of mashed potatoes. She has dates with Grandma on Fridays that she starts asking about on Wednesday. She is friends with Bjorn and Quinn and Chanida and Sam, although friendship looks mostly like playing near another and scheming to take whatever any of the above happen to be enjoying. She sleeps long nights and has one nap in the afternoon and mostly that goes well except when it doesn't but that seems less life-ending now than it used to be. That said, I don't expect to have much patience for 2am wake-ups from her once there are 2 babes in the house so if she's smart she'll commit to staying quiet in bed those nights she wakes before 7:30am. She is a delight and Scott and I get surprised by how much we like her pretty much every day.
She is a tough act to follow though - thus the weeping yesterday (Babe in Belly just started moving around as if to say, "don't I already know it" - smart one, this next one). I had an appointment with Miracle Midwife Irene on Tuesday. We were talking about labour and how I wasn't afraid and yet was somehow carrying a lot of fear with me nonetheless and she asked, "Are you afraid of labour, or of having a second baby and actually becoming a family?" Irene doesn't inspire weeping on her shoulder - she's far too Scottish for that nonsense but I was tempted. Instead, I nodded and said that sounded more accurate and we talked about how different a second labour is and how different a second baby is and she did what she always does and said we'd be fine.
But the next 36 hours have been long. Full of facing the truth that question exposed - I am terrified of the change that lingers around the next corner. We have done well in our transition from 2 to 3, from Couple to Couple with Baby. How can we possibly succeed at moving from Couple with Baby to Family of Four? The money stress has multiplied for all kinds reasons and our house only has 2 bedrooms and the backseat of the Jetta is too small and we get so tired and annoyed so quickly with a daughter who, as you read above, is a delight... how on earth can we do this??
I have worked really hard at not calling this next one Number Two and comparing it to Talia. I don't know that I've succeeded anywhere except in my own mind but I thought somehow I could save them from feeling second for their whole lives if I didn't call them second, didn't put their whole lives after Talia's first-ness. I thought I could find a way to let them just be them, untied from Talia altogether, an entirely new person independent of her and wholly unique.
And last night in the ferry line-up the deepness of my failure at this hit me. This One coming is already Talia's sibling, already the second baby, already being compared to their sister, already getting leftovers. And it broke me. I am so sad for them, that they don't get to be first too. So I cried and Scott ran a bath when we got home and said little while doing much to restore my peace. The sadness remains, but as I write this I am also remembering that we do each get our own journey and our own bag to carry on that journey. Talia's bag is full of the sweetnesses of being first but also the hard parts of carrying our expectations and experiments, plus her own selfness. Babe in Waiting I know carries being second which may or may not be a burden for them, but also has it packed with sweetnesses that I just don't know yet. Heidi's wisdom about anticipating the hard parts being the easy part remains true - we rarely get to know how good the good is going to be all the while being able to guess with some accuracy what will be difficult. It's a painful dilemma until you decide to live in the hope again - hope grown in the truth of life so far, that goodness is coming too.
Our next will be the second-born. May also be the baby of the family. That's about as much as we know. Well that, and they have a sister who is funny (and says so to anyone who will listen) and parents who are a bit nuts but seem to enjoy this family life they've been given. And maybe too, we know that God loves them and has already started whispering to them about who they are and Who He Is. And that is Hope-giving.
PS Thank you to
Brooke for the photos.
