An open letter to my 2nd on your 1st birthday.

I was experienced, but you were brand new. I played on my memory, but attempted to give you your own special moments.  I tried not to think about what your brother had done before you, I tried to let you be you.

You wore headbands, everyday, because I was told you looked just like your brother.  I wanted you to be unique.  I knew what to expect, but you were better than I could’ve ever imagined.

We had time alone but it was served with a side of guilt. Guilt I’d never known before. I needed time with you, but I missed the closeness I had with your brother.  I had complicated emotions.

You didn’t have a sleep schedule. “When does she nap?” In the car…in the stroller…at Target…during her brother’s play date. You were along for the ride.

You didn’t have a feeding schedule.  When you were hungry, I nursed you.  I tried to keep track.  I had an app.  I kept track for 5 weeks, or maybe 4.  You stayed up late, later than an infant should, so I could nurse you, just ONCE, without an audience.  I loved staring into your sweet eyes.

I don’t remember when you got your 1st tooth. It was like gums to 6 teeth in the matter of seconds. I’m not sure what food you tried first, it might have been carrots, or maybe apples.  I never took your month picture on the actual date.  If we’re being honest…it was usually 2 weeks later.  I know – for a fact – that two pictures were taken one week apart.

My darling baby girl, the reality is, you didn’t get the same mommy your brother got – you got pieces of me. You got a piece of me that knew memories were more important than laundry.  That snuggles were more precious than Pinterest perfect dinners. That holding you for 10 extra minutes meant more than clean floors. You didn’t get all of me, but you got the best of me. You got parts of me that I never knew…

until the day I met you.

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