What a 2 years and nearly 10 months it’s been.
You, the quintessential first child and I, the classic A-type personality first-time mother. Throw in some unusual tailor-made challenges like your corrective heart surgery in Boston and we have been on quite a ride.
Exhausted. Still. Motherhood does that to me. I want to be authentic and energized but I have to work hard on not working hard.
But beyond all of that, I am grateful to have lived moments of sheer sweetness with you. When I come up for air and see you, really see, I am in wonder. An independent and confident little girl with strong opinions, a sense of humour, big black eyes, alive hair, bubbly chatter and so much zest.
“When is baby sister coming?” you would say as you kissed my tummy. And then she came. And though I pretend like nothing’s changed, everything has. I try to come across as confident, like I’ve done this mother of two thing before. Do you see through me? I feel a little unsure and torn whereas you, little you, seem surer and to have integrated this change into your world.
For so long I have been very focused on protecting you; keeping you safe and healthy. And now there is a new vulnerable little one. My midwife said to me that love is multiplied; more and more and more. Beautiful. Reminder to self: love is not something finite that needs to be divided.
I love you Noa more than I knew I could. Thank you for being born, for helping me to become a mom. For adoring me so wholeheartedly, despite me not being perfect, and getting it “wrong” so much. For being just who you are.