Dear First Born Child

12th September 2016 Letters to my children, Personal

I loved you from the moment I saw your little grainy heartbeat on a screen, tentatively started to have hopes and dreams for a future we would one day have together and I have loved every moment as that future appeared.

You had me exclusively for almost 2 years but then another child entered your world and your home. Although the introduction was looked upon with fear (us) and excitement (you) it is clear we need not have worried as you were obviously born to be a big sister.

But no one warned me about the guilt. As a mother it is expected l, and sadly with a second child it is doubled. I feel guilty for forcing a sibling into your world when it was not asked for, and  I feel guilty at the thought of leaving you an only child with no comrade in arms throughout your childhood.  I feel guilty for breastfeeding your baby brother which leaves you needing to entertain yourself so often, and I feel guilty for even considering giving up. I feel guilty for forcing you to become a little girl too quickly when you are still a baby yourself, and I feel guilty from holding you back from growing up when you are no longer a baby. I also feel guilty that you may somehow think that I do not love you enough, that somehow you feel pushed out and unloved now that a new baby has arrived which demands so much of my time and energy.

As I see you draw closer to your daddy it is bittersweet as the beauty of that relationship is breathtaking, though it comes with a sadness that it takes you further from me. My rational mind tells me you have me all day now so I am no longer something that needs to be clung onto out of fear I will leave, that I am the disciplinarian that stops you hurting yourself having fun, that mummy is still loved but is now needed elsewhere. However, it is my heart that breaks a little when it is no longer my name you call for in the middle of the night when you need someone. I fear that it is because you believe that I will not come for you, or that you believe I no longer need you as much as you once needed me, or that I am too busy elsewhere. I fear that you no longer love me. I never said these fears were rational.

I promise though that my arms are big enough to hold you both and my heart is big enough to love you both. Infinitely. Endlessly. Without limit. Always.

And both my arms and my heart are here waiting whenever they are needed again.