I was 25 when I had my first son. I wanted another son within a year. I never wanted a quiet household. I wanted loud dinners, rambunctious holidays, and siblings that would always be there for each other.
It seems someone else had other plans. My husband and I could not “make it work” and have that other child.
So while I grew sadder that I was going to be a one-child household, I grew really close to my amazing little boy.
We had almost five years alone together, much of it just the two of us while my husband traveled. He was my best friend, even at such a young age. I talked politics with him while he grabbed color-coordinated legos. I sang off key and he pretended I was hitting every note perfectly.
Then, what do you know, I finally got pregnant again!
We were over the moon.
The baby came right before my son’s 5th birthday.
It wasn’t until I was in that hospital, with a newborn who had all kinds of complications, that I had the first cold pangs of fear. Not only fear that this baby would not be healthy, but also…Could I love him as much as I loved his brother?
I remember being so concerned with who my parents loved more. These were questions that really plagued me as a child. I hated that lame answer they all gave: I love you equally, just differently.
I shouldn’t have worried.
My two boys were so different; I cannot begin to compare them. The love I feel for each of them is so immense and bottomless that my fears of so many years ago were completely ungrounded.
“I love you equally, just differently.”
Until I had two amazing gems of my own, I never knew this could honestly be the truth.
I think that He has a master plan and knows that we need to have children that are so remarkably different so we can truly give our hearts to each one.
-Kara a.k.a. Epic Engineer-