The Transition to Two I wasn't Expecting
As I dropped my three-year-old daughter off at my parent's house the night before my c-section, I knew that her life would never be the same again. In her short existence, she lived a life where she was admired, catered to, and despite our best efforts, spoiled. Never again would she be the sole focus of both her parents. Her brother was stepping in to share the spotlight.
To say that Marissa and I were close, would be an understatement. Besides going to day school two mornings a week, she stays at home with me. The two of us spent our days running errands, doing crafts, watching TV, baking, or whatever else suited our fancy that day. In the final months of my pregnancy, I soaked up my remaining time with her. I knew that I would miss the days where I only had one child to focus on.
On our last night before everything changed, I read her a book about what happens when the new baby comes, like I had many nights before. Only this time, she really seemed to take it in. It was like she knew that this time, it wasn't just a story; it was the real thing. Strangely, she didnt need me to 'sleep with her' or request any last minute snacks or sips of water like she had every other night. She was evolving beyond me. And so was I. After I left her there, my focus was already off her and onto the final preparations for our new baby.
Though I was intially heart-broken that Marissa would miss out on meeting her little brother in the hospital, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. We had the experience and ease of second-time parents, without having a second child to stress over. There were no visitors or distractions in the 48 hours me, my husband and my new son spent in the hospital. We face-timed with my parents and Marissa twice, but for the most part, she went from the first thing I thought about, to an after-thought. It's not something I like to admit, but it took me a while to bond with my daughter in the beginning. Of course, I knew she was mine, yet she didn't feel like my daughter. I was prepared not to bond with my son at first either. Only, this was an instance where I was pleasantly surprised. Right away, I felt connected to Spencer. I didn't like being away from him and I was happy to comfort him, no matter how exhausted I was.
It wasn't until we were approaching home that I began to get butterflies imagining my daughter's reaction to her brother. Would she fall as blissfully in love with him as we had or would she want nothing to do with him? Her reaction was somewhere in-between. She held him willingly and looked him over with facination, but after a minute she was eager to run off and play with her toys she missed while at my parents' house.
As our first days as a family of four passed, Marissa mostly ignored her new brother. I didn't have time to devote to her, but she seemed content to play with her dad and my parents. Then one morning, I heard her asking Daddy for her phone. Since he was sleeping and I was up, I went to give it to her, but as bad as she wanted her phone, she didn't want me to give it to her. It broke my heart that after being so close to her, now she wanted nothing to do with me. In the post-partum days, it doesn't take much to bring on the waterworks, but that really caused me to break down. Soon after, Dustin woke up and explained to Marissa that she hurt mommy's feelings. I took a few minutes afterwards to sit with her and cuddle. That was a turning point for both of us. From that point on, I consciously made time for her, even if it meant letting her brother cry for an extra minute. In return, she became more interested in Spencer and wanted to help me change his diapers.
I expected that my bond with my daughter would outweigh my desire to spend time with my newborn. Only, that isn't the case. Maybe it's because I know how fleeting the newborn days are the second time around or maybe I don't take him for granted because of my miscarraige, but for whatever reason, being with him is all I want to do. I have endless patience when all he wants to do is be held or when he breastfeeds every two hours, around the clock. Yet, when my toddler asks me to get her a snack for the upteenth time, that's where my patience ends. Why is it that I'm so eager to ship her off to my parents' house? How is our 3+ years together trumped by someone who only came into my life two weeks ago? Compared to a tiny infant, incapable of talking or playing, I should be more drawn to the fascinating toddler I know and love. But I'm just not. Spencer is someone that only I can comfort or feed and Marissa feels like a responsibility that I can delegate. I make time to play with my daughter and most of the time I enjoy it, but it just doesn't feel the same. I find myself wishing that I could be with my son, devoting my attention to him, even if he's happily snoozing on his own.
I expect that once Spencer needs me a little less and when someone else can feed and care for him, that my desire to spend time with my daughter will return. I suppose that this is a normal part of the transition to a mom of two, but it wasn't what I expected. I heard that your heart doubles in size to accommodate for each new child, yet it feels like I replaced my love for one kid for the other. I miss the time I used to spend with Marissa, but have little desire to recreate those experiences. I feel sorry for Marissa that her days of being my only child are over and long for the days when her brother is big enough to play with her. I desperately wanted another child, but perhaps even more desperately, I wanted her to have a sibling. I'm sure to her, Spencer just feels like something pulling her mother away and not the playmate we envisioned for her. Until we find our balance, I'm soaking up every minute of this newborn and know that my bond with my daughter will pick up where I left off soon enough.
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