My dearest firstborn,
From the minute I held you, I knew my life was changed forever. I had no idea if I would be a good mom and if I was even ready to be one. But if I knew anything, I knew I loved you. And that I would spend the rest of my life showing you that and so much more.
For two whole years, it was just you and me. We were the Dynamic Duo! As I approached your baby sister’s due date, I began to worry. How could I possibly love another baby as much as I loved you? How would I balance my time between two kids? Would we still have the special bond we had developed over the past two years?
The day I went into labor was bittersweet. I sat in the hospital waiting to be admitted and dreaded saying goodbye to you. It was the first time in your entire life that I wouldn’t be there to put you to sleep and wake up to you next to me. And even harder was knowing that it was the last time I would see you as an only child. I hugged you tightly and kissed you a billion times before you walked out of my room with Daddy. And instantly, I couldn’t wait for you to come back after your sister was born.
Balancing time between the two of you was hard. You probably don’t remember but I spent a lot of time sitting down nursing your sister. A lot. I would have to stop playing with you to feed her. We’d have to leave the playground to feed her. We had to plan our trips around her feeding times and you had to adjust without a choice. And I’m sorry for that.
I’m sorry that you have to share your toys and you get scolded when you don’t. We sometimes forget that they were your toys before she was born and it’s hard to learn to share them.
I’m sorry that you always have to be quiet when she’s sleeping because she’s a super light sleeper. And that we get angry when you’re not quiet. We forget you’re a child and that you’re not programmed to sit still or whisper. You’re excited about life and have more energy than we do!
I’m sorry that I can’t pick you up and flip you as easily as I can with her. I know you don’t understand and think I’m playing with her more than you when I do that. But you’re just bigger than she is. I know you don’t understand that and I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that I didn’t know what I was doing when you were born. We did things differently with your sister because we had already done it once with you. We learned from our mistakes and implemented the things we had learned. So I’m sorry you had two crazy parents with not a clue in the world.
I’m sorry that I lose my temper sometimes and yell at you for not setting an example. But then I sit there and think “he’s THREE! How can I possibly tell him he has to set an example… he’s only THREE!” I want to teach you to share, be kind, and right from wrong but I don’t want you growing up too fast. I sometimes feel like I’m making you do that when I tell you to set an example. I want you to teach your sister the ways of the world but I don’t want you to stop being a kid to do that.
I often wonder if I should have waited longer to have a second child. If you needed more time as an only child and more one-on-one attention than you get now. I worry that you confuse your sister needing more of my help for me favoring her and I never want you to think that. I love you both the same, she just needs me more than you do right now. Just know that I’ll always be here for you, for both of you, and my love will only get stronger as time goes on.
What I’m not sorry for is smothering you with hugs and kisses when I get the chance. Or telling you I love you 100 times a day. I’m not sorry for crying when “There Goes My Life” comes on the radio or when I walked you into school for the first time. I’m not sorry for all of the times I’m going to cry as you get older. I’ll cry because I’m sad but I’ll also cry because I’m proud. And I’ll hug you and kiss you no matter now old you are or how embarrassed I make you. So I’m sorry I’m not sorry about that.
I’m not perfect. I’m human and although I want you to think I have it all together, I also want you to know it’s okay to be a mess sometimes. It’s okay to be late, or forget something, or screw up. That’s life! Life is a string of lessons that get us to where we’re supposed to be. There are going to be good and bad lessons but don’t worry, I’ll be there for every single one of them. Being a mom is a new lesson for me too. And just when I was starting to figure it out, we added another baby and everything I had learned went out the window. So I’m sorry for that, but I’m not sorry that I’m not perfect. No one is, and that’s important for you to learn.
You and I will always share a special bond. We will always have something that your sister and I don’t have and something no one can take away from us. I experienced being a mom for the first time with you, and it was you who changed my life first.
I love you,
Mommy