So, what's new with me? Oh, that's right-- WE'RE HAVING A BABY! Benjamin's baby sister (yep, it's a girl!) will be here in July.
I cannot even begin to describe how dearly loved and wanted this baby is. It was a long hard year that led to her conception. Most of you know, as we have chosen to be open about our journey, that we lost two babies along the way. When we finally decided we were ready to try again, I was terrified. The thought of losing another child was unbearable. But the drive to fill the void in our home was stronger. Something was missing. We needed to complete our family.
So we pressed on. Months passed, and I became discouraged. What if the "something" that caused me to lose our two angels, was now keeping me from carrying another? My faith was tested. My hope was fading fast.
And then it happened.
We couldn't believe it at first. We were too jaded. Too afraid. But then, the numbers looked good. And a few days later, even better. Then there was a gestational sac. A fetal pole. A heartbeat. Maybe, this time, there was hope.
The next few weeks passed in a blur of tears. Tears of joy, of hope, of heartache and fear. One long month later, it was finally time for the doc to pull out the doppler. I held my breath, and closed my eyes. Then I heard it. That tiny heart was still beating!
And it still beats today. Now four and a half months along, I have been feeling movement from the life inside me for few weeks. We've seen her beating heart, her breathing lungs, her tiny hands and feet through ultrasound; and confirmed she is a girl. I'm not sure exactly which milestone did it for me, but I believe it now. She's coming. We're really having another baby.
My heart is filled with so much joy, I think it could burst! And yet, now that I have accepted this news as reality, I am consumed by a whole new set of fears. Am I really ready for this? Is Ben? How will I split my time and attention evenly between my two children? What if I can't? Will Ben resent his baby sister? Will he resent me? Life as he knows it will soon be over. I know it is for the best - that a sibling is one of the best gifts a parent can give to a child - but will he see it that way? And scariest of all... is there really enough love to go around? I know I love this baby now, and my love for her will only grow. But will it be enough? Can I ever really love another child the way I love my precious Ben?
And the tears begin to fall... again.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."
I am a musical being. My heart speaks in song. When it aches, it plays on repeat. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..." That's my Ben. That's our song. I sang it to him when I was pregnant. I would sit in the rocking chair in his nursery, rubbing my belly, dreaming of the baby that was to be. And I'd sing. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..." After he was born, it soothed him. When he cried, I'd sing our song and it soothed us both. We'd lock eyes, breathe deep, and all other sounds would cease to exist. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..." He lit up my world. He lights it every day. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."
Last Wednesday, as I lay in bed, I thought about my sunshine. My Ben. I thought about my new baby girl, who we had just seen that afternoon on ultrasound. I loved her so much. But it didn't feel like enough. I didn't know how to let another sunshine into my heart. In what world can there be two suns?? It just didn't make sense. I couldn't do it. I laid there, and I tried. I tried with all my might, but I just couldn't love her the way I love my Ben. It just wasn't the same. It isn't the same. My love for her, and my love for him, will never be the same.
Because she isn't my sunshine. She's my moonlight.
She's the light in my darkness. The hope in my night. She came to me when I thought I couldn't carry on any longer. When I'd lost my way, her light shone bright. She saved me. She's not my sunshine; no. But that's ok. She is still the light of my life. And so is he. He is my sunshine, and she is my moonlight. I love them differently, but I need them the same. There will be challenges, yes. I will make mistakes, I am sure. But what I know now is that I can do it. I can love them both, as much as they need. And probably more.
Yes, there is room enough in my world - and in my heart - for both the sun and the moon.
You light my world, little babies. You light my world.
Such a sweet post. So happy for you Ali!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful blog entry! I am in tears. I felt the same way about adding a new person to our family but as soon as you see her face it's like your heart will grow to love her just as much as you love Ben. It's amazing and I am SO happy you have your moonlight baby :)
ReplyDeleteOh, Ali, how I remember thinking those very same thoughts. After trying for 4 years and finally being blessed with Emily, we were almost ready to try again. Then, surprise! Rebecca was on her way!
ReplyDeleteI remember so many sleepless nights when I would pray a prayer of thanksgiving -- for Emily, and for Rebecca (though I didn't know who she was yet). Then my prayers would turn to pleading for enough love for 2 precious beings in my life. I didn't see how in the world I could possibly love another child as much as I loved that perfect little 1-year-old Emily.
I worried throughout the weekend I labored to bring Rebecca into the world. I worried throughout her birth. I worried even more when she didn't cry and they whisked her away.
When they finally brought her to me 2 hours later and said she was stable and would be fine, I finally got to look at her. I held her and caressed her. As I nursed her for the first time I thanked God over and over. I begged God to always keep her safe, and I started to pray that all-too-familiar prayer for enough love, and realized that I didn't need that prayer any more. I already loved her just as much, but somehow different from how I loved Emily.
Now, Ali, you know my Rebecca. She's a spitfire. Always was, and hopefully always will be. The first moment she looked at me she somehow communicated to me that she would never fade into the background of life. She made sure she secured her place in my heart and home,even letting me know that the names I picked out for her weren't fitting (can you see Bec as Angela? No, me neither!)and made me come up with something completely different right there on the spot! She did indeed complete our family in the most perfect way.
But she wasn't my Sunshine. Nor was Emily. That was something special between my grandmother and me. Ma sang that song to me all my life. I bugged Bill to hurry and have kids so they would know Ma and Granddad, but we were too late. I found out I was expecting Emily on Ma's birthday -- the first one after her death. I was never, ever able to sing that song with my girls. It always brought me to tears, even 27+ years later.
But now? I sing it joyfully to MY Sunshine, Lydia. My first Grandchild. As soon as she was born and grasped my finger, that song came flooding out. She's been my Sunshine Girl ever since!
God is so good. Trust Him, and trust yourself. You already know the truth - you will cherish this baby girl with ALL your heart, just as you will continue to cherish Ben with ALL your heart. God makes it so it just works out that way.
Sorry... didn't mean to write a novel!
DeleteBEAUTIFULLY said, and oh so true. There is more room in your heart than you can ever have imagined there would be! Love you!!
ReplyDeleteThank you all so much!
ReplyDeleteJan, don't apologize for your novel. I enjoyed it very much. :)