Monday, September 28, 2009

On Being an Only Child

Sweetest Marian,

Things are going to change around here and before they do I feel this pressing need to write to you. It has been months, three to be exact, since I've written on your blog at all and not once over the past 9 months have I mentioned that you will be a big sister soon. But it's true, and it's imminent, and I thought it would be good to write one last time before we start sharing this space with another member of the family.

Today we went to the zoo one last time, just the two of us. Mata swears that the zoo is a good way to bring on labor but I'm really in no hurry to get this show on the road (I've got a bad case of allergies and I'm hoping to get that cleared up before embarking on any feat of athleticism i.e. birth). Really, I felt like going to the zoo with you today because it's something we've been doing together since you were itty-bitty and every time we go it's a totally different experience. I love watching you take it in, gauging the way your reactions change from visit to visit and the way your vocabulary has expanded to talk about what you see.

Today, the two of us sat on the benches overlooking the gorilla exhibit and ate apples and studied the movements of our now-familiar friends. I can so clearly remember sitting on that exact bench, breastfeeding you and watching those gorillas (although the baby gorillas were a lot smaller then too) and feeling so at one with the world. Today, I felt that feeling again and yet so much has changed. Instead of being curled at my breast you were sitting up straight by my side chomping on a whole apple and talking me through the movements of the gorillas from point A to point B. It struck me that we will have so many fewer of these moments in the coming years and this made me just a little sad.

For two years and three months you have been my only baby--the total focus of my daily attention and, together with your father, the center of my universe. The universe is expanding to include one more and I can only trust that there is some infinite wisdom that allows our hearts to expand in unison. There are many wise women in my circle that assure me that this happens without effort.

There will undoubtedly be times, especially in these first few months, when you feel that you've been somewhat displaced by this new, needy little being. So before he/she is even on the scene I want you to know how very much at the center you stand. I want you to know that love does not diminish because it is shared and that you will always, always be my sweet baby girl. Of course, I'm saying this because I believe it, and because it's just nice to be reminded that it's true.

Tonight you are an only child. There's no guarantee that will be true tomorrow night but what I do promise is that I will love just as fiercely tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I love you, Marian.

1 comment:

Anna said...

Marian,
As your momma said, there will undoubtedly be moments in the next little while when you wish your little brother/sister would go back to being a tummy baby. I'm sure we felt the same way when John came - there is a picture somewhere (Momma G might have it) of the whole family gathering around to welcome him home. Everyone is smiling - everyone but your momma and I. I don't think we wanted this little squirming thing around getting everyone's attention. But, sweet Marian, it does get better. There will be a million times in your life where you will be glad you have a sibling. Watching my sister become a mom has been one of those for me. You will probably never fully appreciate how much being an aunt has meant to me, and that is a gift that you gave me. So no matter what little screaming creature joins our world, you will always be my first niece, the one who turned my sister into a mom, my mom into a grandmother, my brother into an uncle and me into an aunt. That makes you special little one. You are an amazing little girl and I love you each and every day. Love, Antenna