31 Months: Owen, My Great Love

Dearest Owen,

The day I left for the hospital to have your brother you were still my baby. I cradled you in my arms and kissed your soft cheeks. The moment he was born, he was the baby and you were --bigger. You were so big, and tall and grown when I saw you next. I left to have a baby and you grew into a big brother overnight. Your suntanned legs, complete with scrapes. Your tasseled hair and rose-colored cheeks. Your ability to talk from sun-up to sunset. Little to no resemblance of baby left in you, it was only in the way that I saw you. As if you had never changed from the moment I met you and now somehow you've grown leaps and bounds in an instant. But in reality everything is the same, I'm just learning to see my two children. A baby and a boy. Brothers. My greatest accomplishments.

All of my tears since the birth of your brother have been for you. I know the insides and out of your gentle spirit. I know that you are struggling as a try to know him too. It all must seem so unfair. You've shown me in your own sensitive way just how much you miss being the center of my universe. How having my divided attention is not the same as having it all. It's hard on me too. I miss the days I lived to make you smile. And this face in the picture is one I see more often than not right now. You've always known your place in our family and it pains me to see you struggle to find where you fit again. I'm trying to be gentle and mindful of how the world must look to you now. How hard it must be for you. I guess we're both trying to be patient with each other. 

You have been so sweet to your brother. Every morning when I come into your room you ask, "What is baby Gil doing?" and later in the day you ask me when we're bringing him back to the hospital. I tell you he's here to stay. You ask again the next day, just to be sure. When he coos you tell me he is making "butterfly noises" and I cannot think of a more perfect way to describe it. You've been incredibly patient and you've found your special place tucked up next to me while I nurse him. Books have allowed me to tend to you while feeding him. You ask when he can play with you, I assure you that one day he will. Until then, you show him your favorite trucks and you kiss his head. You occasionally throw a cup at his bouncer or put a stuffed toy on his face while he's sleeping. We're working on it.

I already know how to love and care for a newborn, you taught me that. I'm still figuring out what a two and a half year old needs from me. You will always be my test subject for parenthood and I apologize for all my stumbles and imperfection. But one thing will never change, you will always be my first. You are my Great Love. At night when your brother is asleep, I come into your room. I cover you up and push the hair from your face. I want to climb into your crib and hold you close. I want you to know how much you matter. How hard I am trying to make this work. When you are sleeping, you're not pushing back. You are my baby again. I love you so much it hurts and giving you a brother, while it seems so unjust at the moment, is a gift I know you'll come to cherish. You will be his Great Love, too. He will want nothing more than to be like you, play with you, follow your every move and word. Time will wash away your memories of just the three of us, but I will always have them. I will keep them tucked inside my heart and I'll share them with you when ever you want. But I'll also let you forget. I'll let you forget so that you can learn to share my love and be a big brother. Because one day soon, playing with him will bring you more joy than playing with me. I've given you a partner in crime, a roommate and a buddy. You loving each other will be the ultimate reward, for all of us.

You made me a Mama, you changed every fiber of my being for the better. I'll love you harder, to make it easier and we'll find our new us soon. The four of us. A Mama, a Daddy, a boy and a baby. My beautiful family.

Owen, I love you more than all of the stars in the sky and I'll remind you if ever you forget it.

Mama