It happened after I was trying to do dishes, and my nine-month-old, Harvey, crawled over to me and started climbing up my leg, "Mmmmmmmmm"ing the whole time. Exasperated, as I wanted the kitchen cleaned up before my husband for home from work, I sighed, grumbled under my breath, bent down, and picked him up.
All Harvey wanted was to lay his head on my shoulder.
Well. I felt like deserved the Worst Mom In The World Award.
Harvey's younger sibling, in utero, kicked at its big brother.
That's when the panic attack came.
At that moment, my heart was surging with love for Harvey. How on earth will I ever love both my children the same!?!?!?!?
My mother had told me you don't love them the same, just like you don't love your husband and child the same. There is just an infinite amount of love, but different...it still scares me.
Harvey has been the perfect baby from the start. He always smiles, started sleeping through the night at a month old, teethed without our knowing, (I just one day decided to check if he had any teeth coming in and there they were!) and until recently he never whined...and even then it's only when he wants to be picked up or fed. He's always so happy and is such a joy that I can't imagine loving another child like I love him. I want to be able to give both Harvey and Baby equal attention, but the reality of the situation tells me that there is no way that will happen. Just equal amounts of different love.Oh well. I have plenty of time to wait and see how that situation will pan out. Four months will creep by, right?