An Apology Letter To My Second Born (Who Isn’t Born Yet)
Dear Little (Sister or Brother),
I’m sorry. You’re not even born yet but I need to tell you that I’m sorry.
Where do I begin? Let me first introduce you to your big sister, Gracie. She changed our lives. She is the one who made me a mom, she made us parents. She has become our whole world.
You see, Little, when I got pregnant with Gracie, the whole world seemed to stop. I remember I walked away from the test, having seen the faintest double pink line, and knelt on my bedroom floor with tears in my eyes. I knew in that moment that our lives would never be the same.
My pregnancy with Gracie was (for the most part) an absolute dream. I rarely felt sick and if I did, a quick snack solved everything. I stayed active and my energy level stayed relatively high. I was able to enjoy myself, to focus on the life that was growing inside of me. I felt connected and like I was truly part of the process—that my body was working miracles and I was front row at the show.
I took “bump” photos each week. I wrote in a pregnancy journal every Thursday morning. I took videos of us talking to our unborn baby. I was present and already so in love. I knew my purpose was coming and I was so ready.
You have to understand, Little, that this time it’s different. I have been sick for weeks—for so long that I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever feel normal again. I’m so tired yet I can’t stomach coffee, which used to be my favorite part of the day (well, that and a glass of wine). When I have really bad days, I feel guilty that I’m being a bad mom to Gracie. And I’m busy. Doing what? I’m not even quite sure, but I just feel so busy—all the time.
I haven’t taken a weekly bump photo. I’m almost 18 weeks and have written in a pregnancy journal twice. I have yet to take a video for you, and I have cried a lot. Like, a lot a lot. And then I feel guilty for crying. And for neglecting you. And for telling people you are a demon inside of me (but seriously).
I’m sorry, Little. I’m so sorry we have started off this way. But things are turning around for us now, I can feel it. I’m sorry we haven’t connected yet, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a mess. But I hope you know how much I love you.
Gracie might be our world, Little baby, but in five short months you will enter that same world and shatter it into pieces. I know this because Gracie taught me how much love my heart can handle, and it’s more than I ever knew existed in this universe—it’s more than you can even fathom. You might not have a journal to read or a video to watch when you’re older, but I can promise you I’ll cherish every moment I have with you a little more than I once did, because Gracie showed me how fast it goes.
I’m sorry, Little, for all the things I’m not doing for you now. But just know that when you get here, you’ll grow up with a big sister who will do anything for you. She’ll be your protector, your confidante, your best friend. I know this because I know how much she already loves you, and that she dreamed you into life like we dreamed of her.
I haven’t felt your first kicks yet, but when I do, let’s make a promise: that that’s the beginning for us. I’ll take it as a sign that you forgive me and that we can start over. I’ve loved you since the minute we started trying for you, but I’m sorry for not showing you that sooner. Thank you for choosing me to be your mama, Little. I promise I will make you proud. I have so much more love to give, and it’s all coming your way.
And for that, I’m not sorry.
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