Dear Eliza Jane,
Welcome to our family sweet little girl. It’s so hard to believe that you are a month old already. You’ve reminded me just how fast time flies with a newborn in the house. You fit so seamlessly into our lives, it’s amazing. You’re such a mellow little girl and are just a joy to have in our lives.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant with you, I’ve felt that you are my little girl. It’s pretty clear that Marion is a daddy’s girl, and I’m sure to an extent you will be as well, but I just felt that a special part of you belonged just to me. Almost everything about you is just so different than your sister. And I hate to keep comparing the two of you, but I know it’s inevitable, so I’m just going to go on and apologize for a life time of comparisons. 🙂
My whole pregnancy with you was different. From the start, when you surprised us with a negative then a positive test to making me sick 24/7 for oh, the first 30 weeks or so, to the end with your delivery. Yes, you still arrived by c-section, but it was a c-section on my terms and conditions and it was such a wonderful experience. You came out kicking and screaming and HUGE! I had joked the whole pregnancy about having a nine pound baby and BAM! you were nine pounds exactly. And after your initial burst of ear shattering screams, you just kind of got quiet and we haven’t heard a ton from you since (unless your hungry. Then, it’s ear plug time.) But you’re just so chill and mellow and content. Oh, unless you’re in the car. It makes mama want to never drive again. You enjoy being close to us, being worn, being slept with, but it’s not a necessity like it was with your sister. I knew on one level that of course you’d be different than your sister, after all, you are two different people, but I didn’t really grasp what that would be like for our family until you got here. You just fit right in with us, filling up all these little Eliza Jane shaped holes in our lives we didn’t even know we had until we had you.
I love being your mom, I love being the mom of two girls, I love saying “my kids” and “my girls” and I love dressing you in matching and coordinating outfits. Your arrival has just really completed me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. Your sister shook up who I thought I was, made me really question my identity and all sorts of fun philosophical things like that. And I think that in some ways, that made me a better mom, but in several ways, it hampered my parenting and really my enjoyment of Marion’s infancy. You get the benefit from all that angst though. I feel much more grounded in my identity and in my parenting abilities. Having one baby really created a problem of identity for me, having two babies really just has created a problem of logistics. So even though you might always be compared to your sister and might get tired of all her hand me downs, this is one hand me down that you’re really going to benefit from (I think and hope.)
But that’s not saying we’re blase about your existence and all “oh, we’ve seen this before, it’s not new or interesting or fascinating to us this go round.” If anything, compared to all the crazy two year old capabilities of your sister, we’re able to marvel even more at the tiny little steps we all have to take to grow up. Never before has the simple act of just watching a baby open her eyes and follow us across the room been such a feat of amazement. I love seeing you react to our voices, I love getting to know you and your little personality and all your quirks. Daily, your daddy and I debate about what exactly the color of your hair is. And I can’t help but hold out hope that you’ll keep your amazing blue eyes. I love watching you sleep, watching you try to reach for us, try to coordinate your movements and I love your little squeaks and croaks. I love nursing you (even if you insist upon rubbing your feet all over my arm while you eat, which drives me bonkers). I love the special relationship nursing gives us. I love watching you grow and thrive and chunk up. I love rubbing your hair backwards when you get out of the bathtub and making it stand up like tennis ball fuzz.
I love watching you be a little sister. I hope you will always love each other the way you do now. Watching the way you two interact make me love you both even more. I’m so lucky to be the mom to both of you. I love you sweet little Eliza Jane.