On the night before she was born, I held you a little extra tight. I whispered “I love you” a million times over into your ear and I cried.
Not because I was sad about the impending birth of your little sister, but because of what I fear I will lose.
You’re my world
You, my dear son, are my world. My best friend, my adventure. During the day, we leave the house and go on quests of finding rocks, acorns, different cool colored leaves. We brave the strong winds of winter and run as fast as our feet can carry us into grocery stores to hunt for dinner and explore new lunch options.
We spend hours arranging our trucks and cars into new formations and digging holes to China. I fear what we will lose as I introduce a new person into this mix. Will she want to go on hour long nature walks? Will she be content to study one leaf for 20 mins and earnestly search for a match? Will she want to ride tractors and skip rocks? Or will she want to go left when your going right? Will my heart be torn into two chasing after both of you. As you climb mountains will she want to read about them? And where does that leave me as your mother and hers? How can I possibly meet both of your needs at the same time?
So as your eyes flutter to a close, and your breathing becomes rhythmic, tears slip from my eye as I roll around all my future failures in my head. The one memory I will hold onto tonight is the day I realized I wanted you to have a sibling and while you are to young to fully understand this story, I hope that someday you appreciate my reasoning.
A friend for life
It was just about a year ago, when I took you over to a friends house for a play date. This friend had two little boys, two years apart. The youngest was your age but you seemed to enjoy playing the most with the oldest boy. As I sat on the couch sipping a glass of tea, I watched as the two boys, put together a train track and created a train world in which they entered into seamlessly due to already playing this game for hours together before we arrive.
You, on the other hand, were left behind. They seemed to have a secret language that they communicated and while both welcoming, you were the third wheel. Eventually, you left them to play and found a truck and played alone. My heart ripped that day, realizing that as an only child, you would never have the secret language, that best friend. It was then I knew I wanted you to have a sister or brother.
Yes, I know you both will fight. I know you will be as different as day and night, but I also know that someday I will be gone, and you will stand on your own to face the world and I want you to have that best friend that knows you, knows your past, your heart, your childhood dreams, understands your crazy, who you can call and talk out life’s big decisions and will know all the unspoken words.
Best Friend to Mamma
So I cry because tomorrow, I begin the journey of handing over my best friend, to my daughter. My prayer is that you both love each other deeply, protect each other fiercely, and create an unbreakable secret language that will carry you through this world. Tomorrow, I go from being your best friend, to just your Mamma.
The woman who loves you unconditionally, who will always provide you a safe place to land and who’s job it is to give you as many experiences and opportunities in life so that you can become the man you dream to be. So in between my tears for what I am ‘losing’. I leave my fears at the feet of Jesus and embrace this beautiful world of welcoming my daughter into our family. I can’t wait to meet her, and like you, I can’t wait to get to know the person God is going to turn her into.
So for one last night, I will breath in your applesauce breath, your sticky fingers and fall asleep next to you with you holding my hand around your waist. Tomorrow our lives change forever but for one last night, you are my little baby and I am your very best friend.