Pages

Thursday, August 30, 2012

My Only Sunshine

My day with Reese always ends with bedtime snuggles. I crawl into her big girl bed and lie beside her, rubbing her back and running my fingers through her hair. We read a book or two and she says her prayers and then I lay my head down on her pillow. She turns her face toward mine and we sing, our voices barely above a whisper:

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. 
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know, Dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away."

I usually leave with a smile. 

She is my only sunshine…

But lately I leave with a tear.

…for just eight more weeks.

Sometimes the tears come before I even to the last line.

Please don't take my sunshine away.

People often ask me how I think Reese will adjust to the baby - if she will struggle or get jealous. No one has ever asked about my adjustment, my struggle, my... jealousy? Is that what this is?

These are thoughts I haven’t voiced, emotions I haven’t shared.

Because I wonder, Am I crazy? Is this normal?

But the truth? The truth is a part of me is already mourning the impending loss of my only sunshine. For two years she has consumed my days, my life, my heart. I don’t want to divide my attention, split my focus, share my time. Our precious little moments suddenly seem so limited. I keep thinking about how much I’m going to miss her. It’s as if I forget that she isn’t going anywhere.

Still, I can’t help wondering how our relationship will change. Will we ever be the same again? Will we still have those just-you-and-me moments that I enjoy so much? Will I be able to divide my affection, time, and attention equally? Is there even room in my heart for another love like this? Can I possibly have two sunshines?

Then I look at my husband – my original sunshine. I remember how I experienced these same emotions about him before Reese was born. With just a few weeks to go, I cried on his shoulder as I thought about how much I would miss the alone time we had so recently learned to cherish. I couldn’t help wondering how our relationship would change. Would we ever be the same again?

The minute she was born I knew the answer. No, we would never be the same again, but we would never wish to be the same. Filling a void in our hearts we didn’t know we had, she made our family more complete and deepened our love on every level.

 When I lie next to Reese at night and the sadness starts to take hold, I have to remind myself that I won’t ever have to make room for another sunshine. I will always have just one. My family is my sunshine, my only sunshine. And rather than taking my sunshine away, each new addition will brighten its rays, further completing the circle of my life, and I will never wish to be the same again.


This is a Bigger Picture Moment. Join us today at Melissa's place.

9 comments:

  1. You don't have to find room in your heart for a new child. There is a place in your heart that has not opened up yet, that is just for that child. No one else can find it. No one else can fill it. No matter how many you have, each child has their own place in your heart and yet each child seems to consume your whole heart. With each child you grow, your heart grows and your family grows. It's a wonderful thing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful, Lisa! And yes, the sunshine only gets brighter. But I do remember feeling this way before E was born ... to see them together, though. I think I love that the most.

    ReplyDelete
  3. oh my...I had a recurring dream before my second was born. I was lying in the hospital bed, holding my baby and my daughter walked to the door. When I saw her face I threw the baby out the window! NO JOKE! I finally broke down and told a friend about this - and about the fears you're expressing - and she said, 'love doesn't divide, it multiplies'....which sort of helped me. You've found a 'from your life' way to wrap your head and heart around what's coming, which is so wonderful. I think that, until I had a child, I had never known that safe, free, total kind of love. Even with my husband, as wonderful as he was, I hadn't let go of my heart completely...having been poorly equipped because of my own family growing up to give myself over to love. So she was my first pure dose...that was 25 years ago. Her brother never got tossed out of any windows...and it really does get better and more complete...but it never goes back ~ so enjoy, cherish your now. And cry some if you want!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Adrienne! I remember having terrible nightmares about tossing my newborn daughter out windows and over banisters and I kept waiting for DCFS to declare me unfit and take her away! It always helps to hear that other women experience that too because for a long time I had no idea it was normal. And she, too, has never been tossed out of any windows in real life!

      Delete
  4. It is totally normal :)
    But your new little one will get here, and honestly, so much changes at once and you'll look back and wonder how you could have not known how wonderful it all could be... but there's no way to know before you get there.
    It will be good. It will be beautiful. There will be learning pains, but they are so very worth it :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I remember being that way with the first one too. Looking back, I don't know how I ever lived a day without her in my life. It's almost as if life before her was a all a dream just leading up to the day of her birth.

      Delete
  5. I love this line: "Filling a void in our hearts we didn’t know we had, she made our family more complete and deepened our love on every level." I'm sure there will be all kinds of new sunshine, especially as you see the bonds that develop between your kids as well as between yourselves and your kids. Lovely, honest post - thank you for sharing!

    ReplyDelete
  6. This is awesome {cue tears} ... I felt the same way when I had my second. But it's like you say at the end ... Your WHOLE family is your sunshine. And just like you can't imagine your life with one, and it turns out fabulous. it's just the same with two. I think it's the fear of the unknown, and of change in general. Sure it will be different, but it will a good different. Congrats, it will be wonderful.

    ReplyDelete