Double the Trouble

So, let's talk about this whole having another child thing for a moment, shall we?

We are going to have children. As in plural. As in more than one.

And that has always been the plan. We've always pictured two kiddos running around - a perfectly packaged little family of four. 

And because I *sort of* know what to expect this time around, I feel more relaxed, at ease, and excited for our #2 to arrive. Which is completely out of character for me. I am that crazy lady who plans out specific to-do lists in 20 minute intervals beginning the moment I walk in the door from work in the evenings. Then add having a baby in the mix, and my nesting instinct goes into hyper-vacuuming-dusting-organizing overdrive. 

But oddly enough there is an element of peace in not knowing the sex of this babe. Yes you heard me correctly. It’s sort of like the pressure of all the planning and nursery decorating and perfect baby-outfit-hunting has been taken away with not knowing if we’re having a boy or a girl. I can just focus on living and growing a baby. {And arranging then rearranging every closet and cabinet in the house}. 

However.

It's still difficult for me to picture having two littles. Two. That's double how many kiddos grew up in my household. I'm an only, just me. So I don't fully comprehend the sibling relationship {and personally feel that I'm missing out}, and I don't relate to having to have mom and dad divide share their attention with another.

But these same reasons are exactly why I did not want to have an only child: it's lonely, and you have a much harder time not getting your way. And Lyla has reached the age where she's starting to show signs of "only child syndrome". Girlfriend needs a sibling because 1. she could use a playmate and 2. the world revolves around her and only her… just ask her grandparents. 

So it is time for another.

But, even though I'm thrilled to be expanding and completing our family, I'm not quite sure how to grasp the idea of two. Two whom I love equally. Two whom my attention must be shared. How will that work? I know every parent goes through this before having a second. And many decide to keep sharing the love with more and more children after that. But it's a concept I simply cannot grasp at the moment.

Because I l.o.v.e. Lyla. Like, a lot.

So much that I honest-to-goodness felt like I was doing something naughty when we went to our first OB appointment for babe #2 at 8 weeks. I felt like I was cheating on my first born. 

And although I am absolutely obsessed with the newborn phase, and pretty much every phase thereafter, the thought of dusting off all the baby stuff throws my head into a tailspin  the bottles, the pacifiers, the blankets, the burpcloths. Or all the laundry and onesie changes from spit up and blowouts. Or forgetting how to interact with other adults because life is now defined by your new boss(es). Or completely losing your brain because you seemingly have more to remember than any other human. Or, dear heavens, the feeling that you'll never ever ever sleep again.

All of this while also caring for a toddler.

Oh, the thought of wrangling a newbie and a needy toddler. At the grocery store, in a parking lot, or while I'm making dinner. Or what about nursing while your toddler is crying because you're "ignoring" her and being responsible enough to adequetely feed two, meanwhile trying to remember to feed yourself. And mercy me, the thought of coordinating nap schedules - what a nightmare. Logistically, can someone draw out a blueprint for me?

But of course it will all work itself out. And I want to enjoy all of those moments, no matter how sleep deprived or challenging. Luckily, I've had a group of friends to pave the way in how to survive with two. {Although, they make it seem suspiciously easy.}

And in terms of "sharing the love", it's something I know I won't understand until it happens. A lot like parenthood in general. You just have no idea that much happiness exists. You're truly clueless before baby. And off-the-charts surprised by the amount of love that exists when your babe enters the world.

And thanks to some wise words spoken by a good friend, I find myself repeating my new mantra, "Your love isn't divided between two, it's simply doubled".

I really like the sound of that.

Because if the joy that Lyla brings to our lives is doubled? 

Well then. Stick a fork in me. I’m done.