Tomorrow, I'm having another baby.
Today, I've tried to spend some quality time with my son, the last moments I'll have to give to him and him alone for a long long time. After we read books and I brushed his teeth, TSA carrried him off to bed and my heart began to ache. While I know hormones are partially responsible, I couldn't help but feel that the tears streaming down were legitimately related to my feelings of some kind of loss.
When TSA came out, we sat with my parents and talked about what made the Shnook the Shnook. All his little personality traits that have been there from the very start. How when he sleeps on his back his arms are thrown over his head, and he's done that from day one. How his strong will has prevailed from the instant he yanked the tubes out of his nose when he was 40 minutes old. How his sense of humor is completely developed at age two.
I lamented to my mother and father about my fears of Shnook's personality completely shifting after the birth of the new one. When I look at pictures of my sister before I was born she was always smiling, but after I was born, she seemed to have a perma-frown in almost every photo, except for the first ones, before she really knew what the hell had hit her.
My parents comforted me in my fears and although they agreed that my sister did have a rough time adjusting, it didn't change who she was at the core. Yes, it's true. Things are changing. Again. But it's a good thing. Shnook will be a great big brother. It will take a lot of adjusting for him, and for me, and for TSA too. Growing pains for all of us, but lots and lots of love too.
It's the end of an era, but the beginning of another one. I look forward to hugging both of my children.