Dear Thing Two,
Today is your 14th birthday. My, how the time has flown!
As I was reflecting upon your birthday, I remembered a conversation I had with a former co-worker many years ago. Her first child was nearing his second birthday and someone asked her if she planned to have another baby. Her answer: I don’t think so.
I don’t think I could love another child the way I love this one.
That statement stuck with me for years. It stuck with me while I was pregnant with your brother. And even through his first few years.
How could I possibly love another person the way I loved Eric? My heart would seem to burst with love for him.
And then he was two.
We began to ponder adding to our family. Your dad was an only child. I had a sister.
As much as I loved your brother, I couldn’t imagine raising him without a sibling.
My sister and I have a deep connection with one another. Sure, we haven’t always (and still don’t sometimes) see eye to eye on things, but she is the closest thing I have to another version of myself. She was my first friend. She questions. She supports. And gives of herself.
I cannot imagine my life without her.
And so, I took the leap to give you a sibling.
But while I was pregnant with you, I was haunted by the words of my co-worker: I don’t think I could love another child the way I love this one.
It worried me.
I didn’t know how my heart could divide.
I didn’t know how my heart could portion out the love inside.
I didn’t know how I could pull love back from him to give to you.
Before I knew it, you were in my arms.
And then I understood.
I didn’t have to divide my heart at all.
I didn’t have to portion my love.
I didn’t have to pull back one ounce of love for your brother.
I loved you both with my whole heart.
And that’s how love is. It simply multiplies.
Photo Credit: petipapga on Sxc.hu