Sometime in the next 24 hours, my second son will be born. I have to admit I have mixed feelings about this.
Don't get me wrong; I'm vey excited to meet him and welcome him home. But I'm also disappointed to lose the life we have now.
The last few years since Caleb was born have been more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. I never dreamed having a little boy would be so much fun and bring me so much joy. I can't begin to describe how I feel about our little family.
When we first started to discuss having another baby and then started trying, I was completely on board. But when Julie first told me she was pregnant, my first thought was, "wait, I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to give up the life we have with Caleb." After a couple of weeks, I was able to come to grips with the idea of a second baby and started getting excited. In the back of my mind, however, there was a sense of urgency to make sure we made these last few months special for Caleb.
As time went on, we did lots of different things with Caleb and the reality of the pregnancy settled in. I grew more and more excited as we talked about baby names and other decisions we were making.
In the last few weeks, as the due date has approached, I've felt some some of the initial doubts and second-guesses enter back into my mind. I know in my heart that as soon as I see the new baby and hold him for the first time, I will love him more than life itself. But I just can't shake the feeling that while we are gaining another son, we are losing something in the process.
As I've tried to process these feelings, I've tried to come up with a word to describe what I'm feeling. Is it doubt? Fear? Regret? It finally occurred to me that I am feeling remorse. I am mourning the closing of a chapter of our lives that we will never have back. Barring some sort of tragedy, this time in our lives with Caleb will be nothing more than a memory as a new chapter unfolds.
When I put it in these terms, I realize it's OK to feel this way. Whenever I've had these feelings, I've felt guilty for having them. Frankly, they've scared me. Now that I understand these feelings, I embrace them because I'm not wishing that the next chapter wouldn't come; I'm just having a hard time leaving the old chapter behind.
I think part of what drives the feelings of remorse is a sense of inadequacy. I worry that I haven't given him what he deserves or that we haven't made the most of the time we've had. I worry that I don't have a chance to fix any mistakes I've made.
As part of this mourning process, I've been cherishing our various "last moments" together. I gave him his last bath last night and we said our last prayer together. I gave him breakfast for the last time this morning. I've been sadly aware the last few days that I will no longer do these things for just him. From now on, my attention will be divided and that breaks my heart for him.
It was really important to me to make Christmas special for him. I made sure I was able to put lights on our house for the first time this year because he asked for them. He helped decorate the Christmas tree. We had friends over on Christmas Eve. I knew that it was our last chance to do some something special for just him.
I had an especially poignant "last moment" Saturday night. Julie's been in the hospital for a few days, so Caleb and I have been home alone. Since he was born, it has been my habit to go in his room each night and check on him. Early on, as a new father, I was checking to make sure he was breathing. As I grew more comfortable with him and knew that he was fine, I continued to go into his room because I couldn't get enough of him. Now it's just a habit I can't give up.
On Saturday night, as I went into his room, it dawned on me that I would no longer be visiting his room just to see him. I sat down next to his bed so I could just savor those few remaining precious moments and watch him sleep. He was so calm and peaceful. As I left his room, I realized there are no more words to write in that chapter. A new chapter is beginning and I can't wait to see what it holds.
I dropped him off with the baby sitter this morning and I won't see him again until he's a big brother and our whole world has changed. The next time we see each other, I'll be introducing him to his little brother. He's going to be fantastic. He's so excited to see his little brother, the baby sitter told me that Caleb wanted to buy his baby brother pacifiers today. Caleb's not quite three yet, but shows no fear and he's shown me how to accept this change as much as I've shown him.
Welcome to the world baby brother. We are all anxious to see you and to see where this adventure takes us.
