I just realized that tonight is the last night we'll put Bailey to bed an only child. She's totally clueless, but it seems somehow monumental to me. And a teeny bit sad.
I was so excited for the baby to get here (especially since I was more than a week past my due date) but there was a big part of me that was sad for Bailey. I'd always wanted lots of kids and, before Gerry was even a twinkle in our eyes, I told Scott that I wanted to give Bailey a sibling. I can only chalk it up to pregnancy hormones but, on that night, I wanted to cry for her. She had spent her whole life (all 2.5 years of it) a total mommy's girl. We spent all day together and she had my full attention pretty much every waking moment. She didn't have to compete for my attention, she never had to question my complete devotion to her, and she didn't have to share me with anyone. And I realized, a little late in the game, obviously, that I was taking all that away from her. She would go to bed that night an only child and wake up in the morning with a little brother, and I just didn't know how she was going to handle it. I felt so sad for her and, in a strange way, felt like I was doing this to her rather than for her.
Fast forward to the next morning. I was solely focused on getting through this labor and meeting my little boy, and when he was born I was filled with such joy that he was finally here and relief that he was healthy. I spent the first 2 hours or so after he was born doting on him. Smiling and holding him and talking to him. From the first moment, he was a sweet baby and I couldn't wait for Bailey to meet him.
A few hours later, I was waiting for my mom to bring Bailey to the hospital and I remember being so nervous. Would she hate him? Would she try to drop him on the floor? Would she be upset that this new little bundle was about to turn her world on its axis? I looked down at Gerry, just a few hours old and snuggled contentedly in my arms, and I thought about the two of them growing up together...reading books together before bed, playing together, sharing secrets and jokes at Scott's and my expense as they grow older.
And then I heard Bailey and my mom coming down the hall toward my room. My mom was telling Bailey that they were going to meet her new baby brother and I could hear the excited clap-clapping of Bailey's "fancy shoes" as she came closer to the room. And then, there she was and I was holding the baby out to her and she had this look on her face that was part wonder, part excitement, part what-the-heck-is-this-thing?
She asked to hold her baby brother, so we took her jacket off and got her all settled on the couch in our room and I placed him gently in her lap. She didn't talk to him or say much but she did hold him for a few minutes and I remember thinking, Okay...I think it's going to be okay.
When it was time for her to go, Bailey cried for me all the way out the door and I'd never felt so bad for her. I kept trying to look at the situation from her point of view: Mommy, who she'd had all to herself up until this point, had dropped her off at Mimom and Grandpop's house and then gone and had a baby. And not only that, but she had to leave while the new baby got to stay with her mommy. Totally unfair.
I listened to her crying all the way down the hallway to the elevator. A nurse came into my room a few minutes later and said, "Whoooo, she was so sad to leave you! Cried all the way to the doors at the end of the hall but I told her not to worry and that I would take care of her mommy for her while she was gone." I knew she meant well, but it didn't help me feel any better. Bailey didn't care that I was being taken care of. She wasn't worried about me -- she was sad that, for the first time ever, she couldn't stay with me.
The few days that Gerry and I spent in the hospital were busy ones {we had a rehearsal and a wedding in which B was the flower girl that overlapped the birth} so Scott and Bailey were in and out a lot. When they came to visit, Bailey snuggled up next to me the entire time and she cried every time they had to leave.
On our second day, another older nurse came into the room a little while after Bailey had left, and she sat down next to me on the couch while I nursed Gerry.
"I know this isn't your first go-around, but can I give you some advice?"
I nodded, still emotional and winding down after Bailey's tear-filled goodbye, and she said in a gentle voice:
"When you get home, don't carry this baby into the house with you."
I must have looked confused {and probably a little annoyed...'don't bring my baby into the house with me'?!} because she went on to explain that Bailey, while only 2 and a half years old, had spent her entire life with me right there. She's never had to take a backseat to anyone when it comes me, and she wouldn't understand if all of a sudden I wasn't playing with her because I had to feed the baby or change the baby or do any of the million and one things a baby needs done for them. She reminded me that the baby could wait a minute or two before needing me. Bailey has never had to, and it would probably have really upset her {and made her resent her new brother a bit} if she suddenly had to. So she advised me to let Scott carry the baby into the house when we first came home, and for me to hold Bailey's hand while walking in the door. Let Scott take care of that first diaper change and first bottle when we got home, and spend a few minutes snuggling up with Bailey, who had had a huge weekend and was missing her mommy. And so we did.
I'll admit, it probably helped a lot that Gerry was such an easygoing baby right from the start. He wasn't needy, didn't cry a lot, and was perfectly content to "hang out" without needing to be held and/or rocked all the time {though we certainly did our fair share of holding and snuggling that baby often}. Scott and I made a point not to pay any less attention to Bailey when tending to the baby, and we let her "help" us when it came time to feed or change him. She asked to hold him often and we always let her. We let her smother him with kisses and hugs, and were very careful about not saying things like, "I have to feed the baby first..." or "We can go play outside after your brother gets his diaper changed...". We made sure that she never felt like she was taking a backseat to her brother.
There were so many days when we were so exhausted that we just wanted to tell Bailey, "Sorry, kiddo, mommy and daddy are tired. No books before bed tonight." or "This was a long day, hon. Mommy's too tired to play." But we didn't. As wiped out as we were, we still made an effort.
 |
| Bedtime tea party...less than two weeks after G was born |
In the 16 months since Gerry was born, I've often thought about that nurse and her advice, and I'm so grateful that she took those few moments to sit with me and share a few words of wisdom. When a new baby is born, it's second nature for mom to automatically put that baby and his needs before everything else, especially in the beginning. In those first crazy/busy/overwhelming/exhausted/blissful few weeks, it never would have occurred to me NOT to tend to the baby's needs first. But I think that making the conscious decision to allow Bailey to be a part of taking care of her brother, rather than having her "wait her turn" on the sidelines while we focused on him, played a big part in how close they are today.
Because, oh my goodness, do they adore each other. Gerry's face just lights up when he sees Bailey, and he's the only person on the planet that she never loses her temper with. Watching the two of them giggle and play together makes me happier than I'd ever imagined, and I'm thrilled that they're as close as they are. I can't believe that I stressed so much in those last few weeks leading up to G's birth, that I worried so often about how Bailey would handle a younger sibling. She's an amazing big sister. And her little brother's not so bad, either. Together, though?
Together, they're magic.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Who loves comments? I do!