Sad
- 02
- 10
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Little hands on a big belly.
She will be here soon, I say.
I will beep her, Baby says. I will beep my sister.
Todder giggles. You mean burp! You will burp her! I will feed the baby a bottle.
I smile.
This is happening. In a matter of weeks, we will bring our third daughter home. Into our new home. Into our good life. We will walk her around and say it.
Welcome.
We will introduce her to her sisters. The big girls. And I hope they will smile and hug her and kiss her. I hope they will be okay. I know they will.
But I worry. I do. Because I remember. That day in October two years ago. Husband and I brought Baby home. We left her sleeping in her little car seat. Toddler skipped around, stopping every now and then to peer at the tiny creature. Her little sister. She rocked that little car seat. So gently.
That afternoon, Husband and I, so happy to be home, so happy to be back, placed Toddler in her crib for her nap. And Toddler curled up with her little giraffe like she did every day.
Happy nappy, we said. We love you.
We left her room. We plopped ourselves on the couch. In our new reality. And then we heard it.
Toddler’s sobs.
And we raced in. She was red faced, inconsolable. Husband lifted her out. We all sat together.
What’s wrong? I asked.
I’m sad, she said.
Sad. It was the very first time she’d ever said this word. This lonely little word. This tiny fleck of human truth. I didn’t even know she knew about sadness.
Husband and I heard this word from our tiny creature and tears pooled in our eyes. And we stayed in there and rocked her back to sleep.
Sad.
A heartbreaking moment. One I’ve not shaken. She was sad.
Another big day looms. We will bring home another tiny creature. In the very same little car seat. And they will be there, waiting. My babies. My big girls. And I don’t know what they will think, or say. I’m not sure I’m prepared. But I must be. Because they might be sad. Again. Too.
But time will pass. And Baby will beep her. And Toddler will give her a bottle. The sadness, if it comes, will fade. And love and laughter will take its place.
I hope they will be okay. I know they will.
How did you react to the arrival of your little sibling(s)? How did your older sib(s) react to your arrival? How did your older kid(s) react to the arrival of their little sib(s)? Do you remember the first time you felt sad or one of your kids expressed sadness?
my two were fiercely protective of their younger/est sibling (until he started to crawl, and pull himself up, and touch their ‘stuff’ :0) )… do remember that they have each other now – it is not just one little feeling unsure about her place in the family… talk to them about how important they will be to the baby… and (i know you do) remind them over and over about how special they are in their own right – and that the heart only gets bigger and bigger, there is no finiteness to love…
one of the interesting things i found was a desire (not often) to know who i loved best… i had found a book that was so liberating on this topic… i chose each child’s favorite color – and would say ‘i love you the orange-est’ or ‘purple-est’… it expresses the uniqueness that each possesses – that makes them the most special them…
Thank you for this very thoughtful comment. Just today, after publishing this post, I took Toddler to lunch. It was just the two of us and we had such a great time. She told me all about school and I casually tossed in there how much I love HER and spending time with HER. I kept mentions of the baby to a minimum. After, we moseyed home. I caved and bought her a purple tutu and a cupcake. She was so happy, just skipping alongside me. I know how important it is to do this, to carve out one-on-one time with each of my girls. And tonight before bed I will whisper something in her ear: “I love you the purplest.”
Thank you.
I have three boys. When #2 came around, I had no idea how it would be possible for me to love him as much as #1. It was unfathomable. I did.. I loved him just as much, my heart grew not by two but by the power of two. Then it did the same by the power of three.
Soon, you will wonder how you ever thought your family was complete with out #3. You will watch the change in #1 as she takes on, really for the first time, the role of the big sister, because now there are two little ones under her.
One trick I did with mine, and still do to this day – I would steal one of them away with me for even the most mundane of errands, but make it special by declaring in my “be very quiet, we’re hunting wabbits” voice… “Do you know what this is??? This is Mommy-Parker time, or Mommy-Matthew time”. The time spent alone with each of the two older ones became sacred and gave me a chance to be with THEM, where they were at that time in space, without a crying infant, or another sibling around who needed me too. Just him, and me.
Best of luck to you all with the birth of your #3.
Samantha – Thanks for this. I know there will come a time – and soon – when I cannot imagine life without my three girls, but right now, as I sit on this precipice, awash in anticipation, I do have my moments of worry. I know that with time my girls will embrace the little one and that there will be some harmony… And as I mentioned in my reply above, and as you mention so powerfully here, it is so important to make each child feel noticed and loved independent of her sibs. It will be hard, but I will do my best to do these fun adventure errands with each girl, to make sure that they are individuals – whom I love madly.
Thanks very much for your thoughtful and reassuring words here.
Ohhhh….I really feel for toddler. Reading that she was sad, broke my heart. But I am sure she was just overwhelmed in the moment! I really think your girls will be fine when baby comes home. They now have each other and now they will be “mommy’s helpers!” I remember when my sister came home from the hospital, I was over the moon ecstatic! I was only 4 1/2 at the time but I was thrilled to have a sister! I think your girls will feel the same way!
PS-I will def announce on my blog what I am having!
This post is too much for me to handle today. I’m typing through my tears. So sweet and so sad and so beautifully written…
I should have known this post would hit home with you. But everything I say here applies to little E. She might be a bit sad at first, but then she will embrace that tiny thing and in a blink of an eye they will be standing on your carpet wearing matching tutus and holding hands. xoxo
I swear almost every post you write is about something I am thinking about but am still a couple a couple of weeks out from writing about.
This is one of my big fears about having our tiny baby in less than 12 weeks too. How will it affect our toddler? I am not going to be able to spend as much time with her and that alone breaks my heart. I guess the part I haven’t factored in is how in love with tiny baby I am going to be and that spending time with both girls will be important and likely an obsession.
While these things are hard, this is one big reason for having more than one child, so the others do not learn a world that revolves only around them. The transition to that is painful though…for more than just the older kid(s).
i don’t remember when my oldest brother was born, only that he “sent” me a present from the hospital (my own baby doll) and i thought that made him pretty cool.
when my youngest brother was born, though, i was 7. i definitely felt sad–and confused and scared and excited and maybe even a little bit resentful. it all faded, of course, not on that first day he came home but quickly and effortlessly thereafter. i do remember my oldest brother and i really coming together in that period, holding secret meetings in our bedrooms to discuss the new state of affairs in the house, using each other as a measure of sorts for how crazy this new life was.
and now, of course, i can’t even truly recall life without either of them. they are my due north on my compass.
this is a beautiful post, aidan. when i read about toddler saying she was sad i felt the punch in the gut. your third daughter will feel so loved, though, when the story about offers to burp and feed her is recounted…plus, it looks like she’s being born into a family with some excellent dress-up clothes.
I love that your brother sent you a present from the hospital. That’s totally cool of him (and your parents).
And I love the forts and meetings you had chatting about the state of affairs. This is why siblings are so great. I’m so glad my kids have each other. Who else in their life could possibly help them untangle me completely? Very comforting and full of love. Especially the dress up clothes.
Rachel – How amazing that your brother sent you a gift. Might have to file that one away
And, yes, this is all about time and evolution. I know, really know, that we will evolve (and organically) into a close family of five. I guess as I sit here awaiting big change I can’t help but worry about the beginning when my little girls are thrown off. I do flash forward many years sometimes and think about the three of them and the trouble they will cause and the love they will share and it makes me smile so big.
My dad took me to the hospital to meet my baby brother as my mom was released from the hospital. At three years of age, I couldn’t wait to have a sibling at home. Then, as the nurse pushed my mom to the car, baby brother cradled in her arms, my eyes jolted from admiring him as I walked next to the wheelchair– up to my mom’s eyes. Eyes focused only on my brother.
I now have three daughters. Each time we welcomed one to our family, although mesmerized by the new little beauty, I disciplined my eyes to look at big sister(s). Newborn needs still provided plenty of gazing, including some with the sisters. But, I made certain they saw me seeing them. Still.
I’ve made other mistakes, of course. During those first greeting days, though, I smiled and gazed at my daughters who needed the assurance my eyes still adored them.
Wow. This is so powerful. The eyes. Implicitly, I know how important the eyes are, but I don’t think I have ever thought about this so explicitly, so carefully. It matters – and deeply – what we are looking at, focused on. Our kids know when we are watching them, noticing them, really seeing them. And because of this one very thoughtful comment, I will do my very best to make sure that I continue to really see my big girls even in the sleepless and blurry aftermath of the littlest one’s arrival. Thank you, Amy. So much.
I love this sweet post! With my boys there’s a fifteen year difference so I didn’t go through this. Yet, I am certain that it felt strange to have a sibling after being an only child for so long.
Thanks, Ayala. I forget sometimes that there are so many people who do not go through this particular thing because they do not have more than one child or because they space them out a bit more. Guess this anticipated “sadness” is the price I pay for popping them out one after the other
Beautiful! Especially the last photo of those two gorgeous girls in their princess costumes. Truly gorgeous!
Thank you
I look at that picture of them awash in pinks and purples and all things princess-y and I smile because more often than not they are in their dinosaur PJs and fire fighter costumes. I love that they are my little contradictions, that their identities are so beautiful and malleable at this point.
I’ll never forget the day, not long after we brought Asher home, sitting on Miles’ floor with him and weeping. Just holding him and rocking back and forth and grieving the former “us.” He really was sad, so sad and so scared of the adjustment, of how BIG this change was. It broke my heart.
I already know I”m going to miss the current “us” with the next one coming along too…but I also know that before long it will feel like the only us we’ve ever known.
The shifting just hurts a lot, doesn’t it? Well, for me anyway.
Luckily, I didn’t have to experience this with my children. My oldest was 2 and a half when her baby brother was born and never seemed sad. Our biggest problem was that she always wanted to “take care” of him…
My 3rd one came 7 years later, so the older two actually were old enough to be great helpers and they loved it. At least I thought so until I brought up the idea of having a 4th.
My older son’s reaction was: “Mom… I just can’t take care of another baby!”
As I’m sure you know, as your kids get older, they will have more sadnesses that you will not be able to fix. They will have broken hearts and disappointments, and each time they are sad, you will feel sad…not just about whatever they’re sad about, but that you can’t kiss them and make it all better. But sadness is part of life and learning how to cope and be happy in spite of our disappointments is an important part of emotional growth.
So when your children are sad, give them kisses, tell them you love them, and try and remember that after sadness comes happiness.
My daughter first expressed sadness when her Aunt left after a very long visits. My sister and my daughter have a close bond. As soon as her aunt left, she told me that she was sad. I tried to shelter her from that emotion as long as I could…
Love the pics of your girls. Gorgeous. Baby will love being beeped by them.
My father likes to talk about how angry I was when my youngest sisters came home. Sisters, not sister- I wanted a brother and I ended with two more sisters on top of the one that I already had.
He says that I cried at the dinner table and told my grandfather to punish my dad. I don’t remember saying any of that. I was 5, but I remember being angry.
It wasn’t because I felt any less loved, I just thought that girls were useless and wanted a brother who could play with me.’
My son made me think of that. He was 3.5 when we brought his sister home. He was fine when she was in the hospital, but very unhappy when she was carried into the house. He begged his grandparents not to leave him here.
yes, my kids have tasted sadness.
At first I was the mother to try and fix it or at the very least chase it far, far away. Especially when I was the cause.
But now I am a little bit better at simply being there while they are sad. Sitting still. Observing the sadness with them. Holding the tissues just like I hold the container for all that emotion. It’s a comfort, actually.
This has been a surprise. To sit with my children, those people I love so dearly, and witness their pain, really witness, is like having faith in them. “I believe you can do even this.” And then, inevitably, the sadness (or anger or fear) disappears.
And I got to be there. What a treasure. To know all of them.
Rebecca – My girls are still so young, but I have already felt this. The pressing desire to fix things, to chase away sadness. But I have realized how important it is to step back a bit and observe, to allow emotions to run their course, to acknowledge what my creatures are going through. Toddler has had a bit of a rocky week at school and this has been a test for me. Often, my instinct to tell her “you are okay,” but I have been taking more of the “I know you are upset and that’s okay” and that has worked wonders. (As have the donuts for breakfast and just-because purple tutu – hey, I’m not perfect.)
“To know all of them.” This gives me the chills. There is nothing I want more than to know my kids.
Sad, indeed. Our toddler didn’t react much at first, but after several months the reality–the permanence–sunk in. And there was some sadness. But often it was expressed not through tears but through aggression, through grabbing and the occasional stomping of feet. It is often hard for the older ones to adjust. And I relate to your wondering (Will they be okay?) as well as your certainty (Yes, they will). Because both are true, and ultimately the okay part will win out.
that picture gives me goosebumps. they will be fantastic, aidan. every transition brings a bit of “sad.” transitions are scary and grief is sad. they may grieve what they knew for a bit… you all may do that… but i think that’s ok. i think it’s better than ok… because you are doing all of this together.
That picture is precious!
I’m a youngest, so never had to be the big sibling, but with my four children, we just tried to make it sound like being the big sister/brother was the best thing to ever happen. And, somehow they believed it.
Also, on the day when my third was born, I presented the older two with books I had made out of construction paper and cardboard called, “On the Day (their name) was born” and wrote the story of their birthday with illustrations and photos added in. They re-read these every year on their birthdays. No, we don’t always have perfect harmony/happiness here, but we do try for balance. And, balance is good.
This is lovely. And I feel your worry. After Zoe came home, my Stella — a daddy’s girl from the beginning — finally wanted mama. She would sit behind me as I nursed Zoe, her knees pressed into my back until it hurt. But I didn’t have the heart to ask her to move. I just couldn’t.
I read and love all of your blog posts, Aidan, and today’s of course was no different. It certainly hit home for me, and as I type this comment with watery eyes, I know that while R will be an amazing older brother, he certainly has an adjustment ahead. These days we spend almost every minute together (minus a few afternoons when I tutor) and I fear that he’s not going to handle “sharing” me very well. I really loved the comment above about looking into your children’s eyes, and I hope I remember that in those early days of May. Thanks for another beautiful post.
Yes, we are anticipating a similar kind of change. I think it is so hard to imagine ahead of time that our little creatures will be able to share us, or that we can possibly love the second (or third) as much as the first(s), but when the time comes, it all becomes clear. Which isn’t to say it isn’t sometimes a struggle. As evidenced by my story here, there will be the inevitable bumps in the road, but that’s okay. That’s life.
So excited for you guys! And here’s to hoping that our tiniest ones can meet and play in the not-too-distant future!
xoxo
Aidan, I adore this post. And the heart-wrenching simplicity with you wrote about Toddler’s being Sad. Oh the agony. I had my own tears. And oh the splendor of you and your hubby, being so present with her to ride out her storm.
You’re a great mother. (And I must forward you an email about siblings and welcoming a new child to the family–a great perspective for parents.) xo
I feel the same way, so sweet and heartbreaking to hear Toddler say she was sad. Please post the article link so we can see it! The picture of your girls is beyond precious.
I will certainly post the link when Denise sends it along. Might come in handy for many of us going forward, huh?
I know I’m a day late, but I just have to comment. I never expected there to be such sadness at the prospect of bringing home new babies! I was so sad the last month of being pregnant with my second – my first little girl had no idea how her life was going to change – how the “us” would forever be different. Her whole world changed – and even though it was for the better, it was still tinged with a little sadness.
When we brought home girl #3 though, it was better – the older girls had each other to play with so I found the transition a bit easier – but the sleepless nights were harder!
Peggy – Thanks for chiming in. I am happy to read your comment because this is how I feel this time around, namely that my older girls are so tight and have each other and the transition will therefore be a bit smoother for us all. Hopefully, this is not wishful thinking on my part!
I was 9 1/2 when Mini-Me arrived, and I cherished her. She was so tiny and fragile and my parents gave me a few baby responsibilities. I got a present too when they brought her home, but I didn’t understand the logic of that at all and found it really quite confusing!
I think that your girls will be excited and together – and Toddler has been through this before and may help Baby with it quite overtly.
Good luck!