Best of luck.

Rebecca F.

I’m the second of three and I’ve never felt for one day that my brother or sister recieved any more or less love than me. That unconditional love thing fills in all the holes and crevices for all of your children.

It’s not like you can have 10 first borns!

And this is what I’ve been socialized to believe in our modern world: I should be reading, attending birthing classes, buying, decorating.

And this is what I’ve heard or read about. The colour co-ordinated nursery, art commissioned baby paintings, the advanced stroller, clay mouldings of a swollen belly adorning a room, the recommended diapers, the dangers in plastics, the need to breastfeed, how to parent to be a good mother, and this list could go on, exhaustively.

My husband shrugs. “Children are not products, nor art we create and mold. Breathe,” he says. “There are no guarantees.”

And so, here we are, anticipating an arrival for which we are both dismally unprepared, hoping only the child is born healthy, will experience exhilirating moments of happiness with himself, the world, with others throughout his life, will have a caring and discerning heart, and above all, will forgive us, others, and that oftentimes cruel and difficult world, for the inevitable shortcomings, failures, and disappointments that ambush us all.

Do not worry Catherine. Though he comes second, you know you loved long before you’ll ever hold him.

The love for baby2 is no less than it was for baby1. Maybe not more love, but more mature love.

Me, I’m on baby5 and each love is stronger and lovey-er.

First love is first love. Nothing can take that away. But second love isn’t lesser love. You’ll see…