You’ll Always Be My Baby

“Hold me like a baby, Mommy.”

The request came from my 2.5-year-old, a soon-to-be Big Sister. We’re expecting our second little girl this summer, and though I’ve heard these ‘regressions’ can happen, I thought it wouldn’t be until after the baby gets here.

Everyone has asked: Do you think she knows what’s coming? Well … yes and no. When we first told her about the baby, she named them Cheeseburger. Then when we told her it was a little sister, she cried and argued, “No, little brother!” (She doesn’t know the difference.) And any time “the baby” comes up, she looks around and asks, “Where baby go?” because the idea that there’s a human in Mommy’s belly just doesn’t make sense (even to me sometimes). But while she may not fully grasp what’s coming, moments like tonight – when she’s begging me to cradle her for the first time in ages – show me she senses a change.

I’ve heard a common worry is: Will I love my second as much as my first? If I’m being honest, the parent-child bond didn’t happen overnight the first time around like I thought it would. Postpartum was tough, but we grew together, and I loved her more and more every day. Even now, just when I think I couldn’t possibly love her more than I do today, tomorrow will come to prove me wrong.

Now that I’ve seen how infinite and unconditional my love for my child is, and how it only continues to grow, I have no doubt my heart will keep expanding for our new baby. But what keeps me up at night is – how can I make sure my firstborn knows my love for her is still (and always will be) endless? It’s going to be hard to explain this to a 3-year-old, when it feels like my once-constant attention is divided or my once-open arms are occupied with a newborn. Not even the baby doll from Santa can prepare her, which is why I’m going to do whatever it takes to show her that, while some things have changed, my love for her never, ever will.

But those first few months will be a shock to all of us, and it’ll take time to find our footing as a family of four.

So for now, when she asks, I hold her like a baby. And rock her. And caress her cheeks. And remind my daughter that “Whether you’re 2 or 82, you’ll *always* be my baby.” And my love for you, infinite.