You are the absolute light of my life. I know these past months have been tumultuous, to say the least. We spent most of our days together, just the two of us, and then suddenly this baby appeared. Wait, let me back up. Before the baby appeared, I left for a couple of days. Something I had never done before. You came to visit me in the hospital. Daddy had you all dressed up to meet your new brother and to appear in photos of the big event. When you saw me, you cried. You ran away from me. I'm not sure why you did this. You couldn't tell me; you weren't talking much yet. But I can guess you were feeling pretty overwhelmed with emotions. Boy, so was I. I cried too, when I saw you. Because I knew everything was different, and I knew you were hurting. And I knew I couldn't take away your hurt this time. I could be there for you, but I couldn't make it better.
On a show I watched, a character said, "You don't love anything like you love your first born." That line has stuck with me since I heard it. It resonates so strongly, because it's true. It's not that I love your brother less than you. There is no more or less when it comes to love of one's children. It's just that the experience I had and am having with you - well, there is nothing like it. You made me a mother. And for that I will always be grateful. For that, you will always have a special place in my heart.
When I was expecting Oliver, people saw you and me together and they gave me lots of advice for taking care of two young children. They even gave me advice for helping you with jealousy that might arise. Many people suggested I include you in the care of the baby, or suggested I make you my special helper. But what no one told me what I might feel. And what I felt was gutted. Completely torn apart. I felt helpless to help you. I felt like I had betrayed you. I felt for the first time, that you were going through something I couldn't fix, you had needs I couldn't meet.
After Oliver was born, people told me that to imagine what you were feeling, imagine how I would feel if my husband brought home another wife. I have no idea why someone would say this to an emotional, newly postpartum, sleep-deprived mother of two. Someone even upped the ante and suggested I imagine the second wife was younger and couldn't cook and clean. Wow. I tried to dismiss these suggestions as best I could. But then I thought, maybe a more apt comparison is how I would feel if you brought home another mother. Jealous as hell, is how. Betrayed, is how.
We are getting through this, you and me. While I was putting you to bed last night, Oliver started crying in the next room. You heard him and you said, "Get Oliver." You two smile at each other, and I have a feeling you are going to be fast friends. I know things will continue to get better. But that doesn't mean this hasn't been hard.
I love you, Buddy. With everything I am and everything I've got. You're my little guy.