I just peeked in at Cate napping in her room and felt a wave of guilt. Her sweet little face looks so innocent and beautiful as she lays there, happily sleeping in her room - living her little life without a care. In three days we're going to have our son and Cate will no longer be the only cherub for us to adore. I'm riddled with guilt and feel like I'm cheating on her.
Yeah, yeah, I know... the best thing I can give her is a sibling... blah, blah. That doesn't help me right now as I realize how we're going to uproot her very existence in every way possible: her position as only child is ending, the only home she has ever known, her nanny, her school, her friends, her neighborhood and family are all going to go away in two months when we move. The worst part for her - we're going to take the crying, poop machine with us! I worry that she'll never recover or forgive us for wrecking her happiness. London had better rock her world or we'll never get back in her good graces.
She's too young to really understand that mommy is having another baby and what that means. But she's wise enough to know something is up with mommy and has started to favor daddy. It stings when Fen and I both walk in the house together and she runs up to him, arms wide open, shouting, "Daddy!" Doesn't even cast a glance my way. It's hard for me to pick her up now and I have no lap left for her to sit on, plus, I'm tired, fat and well, boring. How's she going to react when I come walking in with a new baby (after having deserted her for several days)!
In all fairness, Cate does like babies and fusses over them so I'm hoping she'll like her brother. And she is a sweet natured child for the most part (as long as no one messes with her dolly stroller - gawd help ya!). But I remember the night she woke up with a slight fever and wanted to be rocked. She lay over my swollen belly, head on my chest trying to doze but the baby was awake and kept wiggling and kicking her. She pat my stomach and said, "No, mommy. Night, night." But he kept kicking and she kept complaining. Baby wasn't even born and the fighting had begun.
There's a bottle of frosty limoncello with my name on it for next week. I'm going to need it....