You’ve begun to kick – a lot – which is what got me thinking about this blog post. Well, that and a WhatsApp discussion with your brother’s BFF’s mom 🙂 You kick a lot almost immediately after I’ve had something to eat and, as I discovered tonight, while I am in the bath. Your brother and I were blowing bubbles in the water and giving each other Eskimo Kisses, when all of a sudden I felt a sharp “JUDO CHOP” to the bladder. It’s almost like you wanted to get my attention … like, “Hey Mom! I’m also here!!!”
That made me feel a little guilty … I have maternal guilt about how I treat you and you’re not even born yet! This is not a great start.
I remember holding your brother when he was about 5 days old. I was on the phone to your Grampa in New Zealand and I tearfully (Mom was a bit loopy after your brother was born but hopefully this doesn’t happen again when you arrive!) asked him, as I stared into Luca’s (that’s your brother) sleepy little eyes, “Dad, how do you love TWO of them?” You see, Mom has just one sister, Aunty Lolly, who you will probably meet in December when we go on our first family-of-four-holiday. Aunty Lolly and Mommy are just 17 months apart. That means that when I was not even two years old, my Mommy (your Granny, who you will not get to meet but who loves you more than you or I even know) had another baby. And she managed to love us both, equally. She’s not around for me to ask how she did it … but I do have my Dad, your Grampa. Grampa told me that day, with tears in his eyes (I can hear in your Grampa’s voice, when he’s crying) that you “just make space in your heart and you love both of your babies for so many different reasons”. I believed him then and I do now. I feel like I have to believe him, because my brain just doesn’t understand how to right now.
HOW will I love you both? HOW? If you argue, or fight, how will I know who is wrong? I don’t want to ever favour one of you over the other. I don’t want Luca to feel like he’s being forced out of his “baby” role, when you’ve arrived, but I also don’t want to miss out on anything to do with YOU because I am so worried about him growing up too fast. I do know that you will only be one of two. If I’m struggling with the concept of loving two children, there is just no way I could be the mother of three, or more. Insanity! Well, it would drive me to insanity. My hat’s off to those mothers of more than two children … your advice is welcome here!
Aside from worrying about where I will find the love in my heart for TWO babies, I am also worried about other things. Most importantly, WHAT are we going to call you? It took us FOREVER to come up with your brother, Luca Jack’s, name. After we had him we never paid much thought to what we’d call a second son. We have (and always have had) a girl’s name ready – Maya Jade. But … we can’t exactly call you that, now can we? Your Dad and I are literally stumped. After Man United (they are a football team that you will come to know VERY well as soon as you are old enough) won the English Premiership a couple of weeks ago, your Dad proudly announced on Facebook (something you will be accustomed to by the time you are old enough to operate my iPhone, or whatever space-age device I am using by then) that he would name you “Ryan Giggs Dadic”. Over my dead body would you be named after a football player.
Something else I worry about, is how I am going to feed you and Luca when you’re older. I’ve seen mothers of teenage boys in shopping centres, with trolleys loaded with food. Sometimes even two trolleys. I’ll have to start freezing loaves of bread and buying 1 kilogram blocks of cheese at a time. Isn’t that what boys do? They manage to stay skinny and athletic, all the while motoring through a loaf of bread and half a kilo of cheese a day? I’m not the world’s biggest eater – in fact I went almost all of today without eating (sorry baby) before I eventually became properly ravenous at 5 o’clock and just about swallowed a Nandos pita whole – so how will I be able to keep two strong, fit boys happily fed and entertained? Oh dear g-d … you can see my exposure to teenage boys has been minimal, if any.
What else do I worry about? Well, as a born worry-wart, just about everything stresses me out at one point or another. But your Dad’s very clever and one day he said to me that getting through each day, one at a time, is the best way to get through something. He’s not right about much (just trust me on this point) but he’s definitely right about that.
So, for now … I’m going to try to stop worrying about everything and just have faith in your Grampa’s words. That I will find space in my heart to love you both. And space in my freezer for all the bread and cheese.
All my love,
Mom x*These pictures are of Aunty Lolly and I, when we were equally little … and equally loved*