One is (not) enough.

the heart can always hold more.

Winter 2019
The Ivy Inn Restaurant

I sat across from my husband at a table draped in fine white linen at the historic Virginian Inn, a cozy refuge from the crisp winter air. Candles danced and cast shadows on the creamy white walls of the dining room. My fingers delicately grasped the long stem of a glass filled with a deep burgundy liquid. Date night. I pushed thoughts of our 3-year-old at home in the care of my mother who we flew up from Florida (because finding reliable childcare is apparently impossible) from the forefront of my mind. 

I swirled the liquid in my glass and confidently proclaimed, I am content with one child, I don’t really want any more. 

He, of course, disagreed, our plan was to have two children. He knew somewhere down the line my feelings would change, and I’d want another baby.

But at that moment no one could have convinced me otherwise.

Winter 2020
Home

Covid, separation, and a void that needed filling, I confessed to my husband that I did want another child. I wanted our daughter to have a sibling, someone to confide in and have a unique closeness only siblings can have. I didn’t want her to feel lonely. He gave me a sly smile, “I knew it!” he chuckled.

That Christmas, I took one, two, three pregnancy tests just to be sure. I hid the positive pee stick on our tree for my husband to find. Not surprisingly, he didn’t notice. We buy ornaments on all of our trips so to draw his attention I formulated a plan. I called him over to the tree, “Do you remember where we got this ornament? It’s unfamiliar to me?” I asked with a grin and a twinkle in my eye. The stick with the two pink lines gleamed under the tree lights. His expression quickly shifted from confused to elated as he wrapped me up in a tearful embrace. Our family was growing, and we were thrilled.

When we told our daughter she was going to be a big sister she was excited, fascinated, and a little scared. What would it all mean and how would her life change? We talked about the baby and how she would be able to help take care of her sibling and eventually they’d be playmates, best of friends and confidants.

But I felt her fear. I was excited to meet our baby (a girl we’d later find out) but I feared for how our lives would change, how my relationship with my first born would change, and if my heart could hold enough love for two. 

My firstborn and I were thick as thieves, I had been her playmate, best friend, and confidant. 

The night of my scheduled induction I cried buckets of tears for our life as we knew it, for my daughter and our relationship and the fear of the unknown.

Our daughter entered the world dramatically. I went to my induction already in labor, things moved along quickly, in other words no time for drugs. As she took her first breath at 5:11 am on a Saturday morning she cried for two hours straight. She refused to latch on and was inconsolable. My husband and I looked at each other and our eyes said the same thing, “Uh oh, what have we done?”

A miracle worker aka nurse came in and took her, ran the shower, rocked, swayed and cradled her while walking slowly in a rhythmic motion back and forth across the delivery room. 

After about twenty to thirty minutes she settled down, latched and has been mellow ever since. Forever grateful to that nurse. 

We brought her home and our oldest instantly fell in love and assumed her role as mommy’s helper. She wanted to do it all. 

Fast forward.
Summer 2023
Home

Fluttering about the kitchen, putting silverware in this drawer, coffee mugs up in that cabinet, wiping water that splashed on the counter, I lift my head from the stark white quartz and gaze into the living room. Our daughters rest side by side on our custom gray couch with deep cushions, watching Barbie. The two of them sharing a blanket, my youngest rests her head on her sister’s shoulder while her older sister drapes her arm across her back. I witness our youngest lift her head and look lovingly into her big sister’s eyes then plant a kiss on her cheek. They embrace and resume watching their show. 

Tears fill my eyes, a smile spreads across my face like the cream cheese I apply to many slices of whole wheat toast. They are not alone, they are playmates, they are best friends, they are confidants.

They are bonded. 

I realize in that moment that the fear I carried melted away long ago and I thought to myself,

How could I ever have NOT wanted another baby? How could I ever have NOT wanted her?  

Did you have fears of growing your family? 

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Ours".