When my son was first born, even during the first couple years of his life, I would find myself wondering how I could ever have another child. It was not simply a matter of trying to handle two rugrats--though that still crosses my mind, but more a matter of "How could I love another baby as much as I loved the little guy in my arms?" I knew that I wanted another kid, but I couldn't help worrying.
And then something changed along the way during the last school year. I can't quite explain it, but suddenly I knew things were different. Sure, I wonder how I will manage with two kids clamoring for my attention, but I don't worry about finding the love.
When I wrapped my son in his towel after his bath this evening and enfolded him in my embrace, hugged him tight and said, "I love you so much," I could feel the love just bursting forth. And the thought running through my mind was, "I need another child to share this with."
2 comments:
Interesting. I'm still wrestling with this. Just when I thought I'd decided to stick at one, Papa has started to convince me to think about it again.
Time for another post.
My wife and I decided, many years ago, that we wanted two children. It was a very intellectual decision, balanced, well-thought out, etc.
But of course, that is very different from the reality of parenting two. Which would be why our kids will be over four years apart by the time the next one arrives.
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