You were second.
Not in my heart, but one did come before you in time.
Yes, with you, it was different.
There was no gender reveal party. No elaborate showers.
We didn’t read all the books or check the apps every week to see what vegetable you measured up against.
I didn’t take as many photos, didn’t spend every waking moment thinking about the way your hair might curl up on the ends one muggy summer day.
My mind was busier; my body more tired.
The worries of a first-time-mom had faded, and now my thoughts drifted to fears that I wouldn’t be enough for you. I wondered how on earth my heart could ever be big enough, how I could manage to divide my time and energy and love equally enough.
And then, before I knew what happened (because, you see, time passes so much quicker the second time around), you were here.
And in an instant, every fear faded.
That magical feeling when you finally see the person you’ve loved for so long, face to face? It’s not a one-time deal.
The world stopped for what seemed like hours as I introduced myself and sang you ‘Happy Birthday.’
And that was it. I was yours.
