|March 5, 2013|
I look deeply into her eyes and try to memorize her face while silently thanking her for loving me as much as Savvy loved me as a baby even though I don't think I'm as good of a mother to her as I was to her older sister. Every time I nurse her, I'm relieved she is getting a tangible expression of my love and commitment even if my body is in transit to and from a play date or my mental focus is on Savannah or emails or coffee acquisition.
I found such profound joy immediately after becoming a mother. I thought that same love would hit me like a truck the second time around too. But really, life was normal. Things were hectic and crazy and I became consumed with the job of motherhood rather than the experience of motherhood. I didn't feel a profound personal change or growth. I suppose because I was already a mother, the newborn cuteness didn't slay me as much as it had the first time around. I didn't have any new revelations about womanhood like I did with Savannah, or perhaps I just didn't have the time to think deeply about things because I was so busy making sure my toddler got to the playground each day despite the snowy or rainy weather we experienced this spring.
The only new feeling is guilt. I managed to survive my first 2 and a half years of motherhood thinking I was doing a great job. I did right by Savannah. I poured all of me into her and never doubted that all my decisions and actions were right for my child and the perfect foundation for a lifelong mother/daughter relationship. But now, oh the guilt!! Guilt that Estelle doesn't have my full attention the way Savvy did. Guilt that I couldn't lovingly gaze at her and hold her during all of her naps the way I did during Savvy's first 3 months.
Not to mention the guilt that I destroyed Savannah's life by not raising her as an only child. Every time Savvy announces, "I don't like Estelle," I want to scream at her - "Estelle is here to make you happy!" Seriously, we worried Savvy would be lonely without a sibling throughout her life and that's the biggest reason Estelle is here. To have her rejected so often is beyond frustrating.
But she's here. And I love her. And I can't wait to learn more about her. She's approaching 6 months old and on the verge of movement and more deliberate babbles and the fun exploration of solids.
Estelle, my Star. My Shark Attack. Nord. Squacky. My loud baby. My strong baby. My chubster baby. My Sister Baby.
Her name. Estelle Georgiana. Its beautiful. Like her sweet face. It honors her great grandparents Esther, George and Barbara Ann. It means Star, a celebration of the vast sky(e). It was a happy revelation during a late night with Rob and my friend Melissa and was hotly debated, but it was her name and I love saying it and singing it.
|This dopey smirk signals huge smiles are coming!|
|Haha. Poor Savvy is thrilled.|
|5 months old|