You know, there's this stigma about being second. Nobody wants to be second. Second place is not as grand as first place. Second in line. Second to arrive. Second is just not..... first.
And for some reason people get to thinking that first equates to better.
I don't agree. And when it comes to parents and children, I think we can all agree that first, second, third.... they all... equate to better.
Allow me to explain.
I always found it a mystery to be able to love more than one child at a time. I'm still not sure how some people can have multiple numbers of children and still be able to love them all.
I have three kids. Two boys and a girl.
For a long time I was happy with just the two boys.
Actually for a long time, I was happy with just the first one.
Beautiful baby boy.
For the most part, very content. (as long as the binky was nearby)
Very self-sufficient. (at least he tried to be)
Smart, funny, cute, and spoiled.
I couldn't fathom loving another.
And then came my second child. Another boy.
I was fine with that. (It was the thought of a girl that made me nervous.)
And well, I had five years of experience with my firstborn.
So another boy... how hard could it be?
Beautiful baby boy.
(Rewind..... C-section birth due to baby being breached)
Cried until he'd turn blue in the face gasping for air. (scared me half to death the first few times)
Would not even consider a binky for comfort.
Somewhat needy, and not ashamed to voice it.
Smart, loved to laugh, and absolutely adorable. (not spoiled)
And so there I was, a mother of two boys, completely in awe about how different they each was and how I would love them both intently and fervently in unique ways.
Hence, none of what I learned from the first truly applied to the second.
The corks that worked with the first, totally failed with the second.
And so as I get to know the second more and more, I realize I must love him differently.
Because he is different.
And while my first son taught me what it really means to give my life for someone else, my second son has taught me that there is more depth and width to the love I thought would only go so far.
He has challenged its dependability and longevity. He has stretched it and tested it. He has proven its validity.
I've had to reach deep inside myself in search of deeper love, greater love, true love. More love.
And so while for my firstborn, my love seem to come easily, it has been with my second son that the trueness of my love has really shown.
Consequently, I share all of this not because I want to compare one child from another, but because I feel it is important for each to know that he is loved.
And that neither is better than the other. Rather they each brings out in me an inner strength and passion I never knew I had until I had children.
Lastly, I share because at times the second child can get to thinking that he/she is not as grand as that first one. And I want to remind my own, that in my heart, he is second to none.
Five years after my second was born, I gave birth to a little girl. (Heaven help me now!)