My Littlest Love

I always thought that the day I was married to my biggest love was the truest meaning of love. And it was, and still is. In that life partner soul mate sort of way. The day I gave birth to my sweet Claire Elizabeth I felt that other kind of love.

That part-of-you-rip-your-heart-out-and-hand-it-to-your-child kind of love. And I never thought that anything else could even come close. But throw a now three year old who is so much like you in so many ways into the mix and let me tell you, there is nothing better.

It’s a make-your-heart hurt kind of love. The kind where you can sit for hours and just watch her play, listen to her hum, and soak up that little voice. Because “this is my favorite age” will be replaced with new favorite ages. And I just want to soak her up right now.

A lot of this is due to the quickly and slowly approaching day that our second little miracle will arrive. And I am sickly, scared to death about a lot of things. One being how the hell is she going to feel when we bring a tiny, needy, new baby into our home and I can’t give her 100% like I have. I am stricken with guilt over the changes that are going to happen in our little home. The 4 days in the hospital, the long, painful recovery of a C-section, the breastfeeding, the exhaustion. And to top it off, she starts pre-school 6 days after Baby Boy is born. And I’ve NEVER left her before. And I am so worried that it’s all going to be too much for her. She’s a delicate little flower. With soft feelings and insecurities and shyness. And I just…am worried.

I just can’t help but go into her room 3+ times a night and kiss her sweet face while she sleeps and know that these times of just one on one are slowly coming to an end. I can’t help but plan special dates for just “the girls” for lunching and shopping. And pedicures just me and my girl – even though my swollen belly is making it harder and harder for her to enjoy them on my lap. But there is something so comforting about my little big girl, sitting in-between my legs in that chair, resting against my belly, and seeing her little toes dangling in the water that makes me warm and fuzzy inside. Shy-smiling and so proud of the color polish that she chose. Sigh.

I just needed to get some of this out. Just needed to get my all-over-the-place ramblings on paper. Because everyone always says that “they adjust” and I know that she will. But she is still my first born, my little miracle that made me a mommy, and just holds a special little place in my heart.

31 days and counting…