This morning Jack and I were sharing the spare double bed in his room. He prefers to sleep perpendicular to his parents, for maximum parental discomfort and minimum parental sleep, so we only bed-share during illness or travel. He’s got a beast of a cold and cough right now, and last night was my turn to try to wrestle him into sleeping semi-upright on pillows, instead his preferred position of butt-in-the-air. We spent a good part of the evening in the bathroom with a steamy shower running (and by evening I mean 3am), and boy this kid will never know just what we do for him, will he? Mom and Dad, allow me to pause a moment and thank you, deeply, for caring for me when I was an ill and ornery toddler. And all those other times, too.
Anyhow. Back to this morning, Jack is breathing more easily and sleeping pretty heavily, with his enormous toddler noggin* lodged in my pregnant belly. I’m dozing and stroking his hair, when all of a sudden I feel a pretty powerful bam-pow in the belly area. A few seconds later, another boom-punch, and I realize – heh. Baby 2.0’s space has been invaded, and s/he is not happy about it. I’m only 19 weeks, and fetal movement is still on the fluttery side and definitely can’t be felt from the outside yet, so Jack was undisturbed. But boy did I feel it! This was the most firm and definitive movement I’ve felt yet, and there was no doubt at whom it was directed. Jack snoozed along, face slack and drooling into the comforter, as his sibling pounded away on his giant head. I chuckled to myself, and didn’t move. Baby 2.0 is getting started early on setting the boundaries for Big Brother, and I didn’t want to get between their first for realz sibling smackdown.
We find out in an hour or so whether this is a boy or girl. I’d be happy and disappointed with each, to be honest, so we’ll just wait and see. But given the early stage at which I felt movement and the amount and intensity of the activity going on in there, I’d say it’s another rambunctious boy. Stay tuned!
I’ve had some of the typical worries of a mother expecting her second child. I don’t worry that I won’t love this baby as much, though I know that’s a common issue. But – and I know this is strange – I don’t feel like teaching another kid all the stuff we’ve already taught Jack. Jack’s development has been a huge amount of work for us. He isn’t developmentally challenged, by any means, and I wouldn’t call showing him how to do something 57 times before he FINALLY gets it a burden, exactly. But some of these things (coff, talking, coff coff) have been like pulling teeth, and every milestone has been such an achievement! I look forward to his learning more and more as months roll by, and love seeing the new stuff he can do every day. And I don’t know if I feel like squealing and clapping when Baby 2.0 sits up. I mean, heavens sake, sitting up? Big deal! Jack can run circles around sitting up! Puh-leeze, show me something hard. I trust that this mild annoyance with having to start over will disappear as soon as I see that little button nose, and I know it will feel just as miraculous and fantastic to watch THIS baby, THIS mewling infant turn into a walking, talking nightmare – er – toddler, and then adult. But for right now, the thought of starting all over again with that stuff kind of exhausts me.
My second thing is a very strange reaction I had the other day. Finally, 21 months after I bore my delightful little man in the early hours of a lovely Carolina spring morning, I put all of his birth stuff and shower stuff together in a scrapbook. It’s a nice looking book, too, and it only took me about 4 hours to do. 21 months and 4 hours. But anyway, as I lingered over some of the memories and reminisced about him being so tiny (while he tore the house down around me, might I add), I thought with glee about getting to hold another tiny infant again, and having those quiet nights of just us two. And I had this thought that I don’t want to have those memories with anybody else! That sweet early newborn stuff is JACK’S, and only his, and holding another wee infant in my arms will SULLY the memories of my beautiful moments with Jack. Isn’t that weird? I was almost angry at this second baby for daring to try to make a place for itself in my affections, and for daring to be as beautiful and sweet and dependent as Jack was when he was first born.
This stuff is all normal, and having seen my poor mother be just as sad to let her fifth child go to college as she was with me, her first, I’m absolutely positive that it will all be resolved once the baby is here. But I wanted to record it, for posterity, so when 2.0 is a horrid teenager and wants some evidence that her mother loves her less than her big brother, she can cite this as proof. See, I love her so much I’m already thinking ahead to when she’s a teenager, giving her some ammunition for our first huge fight. What a mom.
We’re off to the ultrasound. Cross your fingers that all looks healthy and well, and that it’s a boy. Girl. Boy. Girl. Yeah, one of those.
*Jack is 97th percentile for height and weight, but his head is off the charts. Miles off the charts, eons off the charts, floating up in the stratosphere of the charts, thumbing its nose at normal-head-sized neckholes in toddler shirts. One of these days, he’s going to lose an ear when getting dressed in the morning. Either that or we’ll have to start taping them to his head and lubing him up with Vaseline to get a t-shirt on. Or perhaps give up t-shirts altogether and just go with button-downs. I’m laughing, but it’s sort of a serious problem! Sizist, Big-headist shirt manufacturers must be stopped! I’m starting a letter writing campaign for the Big Headed Toddlers of America. My niece would also benefit, as she is also a giant bobble head baby.**
**They look normal and everything. They just have really strong necks.
Let\’s hope for one or the other, and not both. Maybe a rocking tomboy female? I could dig that.
I totally understand that feeling of not wanting to go through all the work of raising a baby again..heck, sometimes I get bored and tired of doing the same thing with Timmy day after day! But one thing I learned from my sister in law, every kid actually is different. So the things you struggle over with Jack will probably come easy as pie to baby 2.0, and there will be a whole new set of struggles that are new and exciting too! And really, the first born is actually special partly because everything is new, wonderful, magical and memorable. Not all has to be completely equal amongst siblings. And I feel like I have to give a shout out to my fellow big-headed-baby-breeder! Timmy wears hats for 4-5 year olds. Geez. sometimes I think I might even be able to squeeze my head into his hats. I just tell myself it must mean he has a giant brain in there!