The Gift of Each Other 

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I remember being pregnant with Mr. B. I had so many feelings of overwhelming fear and dread: certain I was ruining Miss H’s life.

I worried futilely until the day Mr. B was born about what brining him into the world would mean for and do to Miss H. The world revolved around her up until that moment and I feared that by “taking away” from her we were some how making her life less rich. Less full.

Whooooo boy. Joke was on me.

Until she came down those stairs and her big brown eyes lit up at the baby on my chest and she squealed, “Baaaaaby! Nuuuursie!” I had no idea just how much we were adding to her life.

We were giving her a play mate. A shoulder to cry on. A partner in crime. A person to practice conflict resolution skills with from an early age. A brother. A best friend.

And as the years have passed, I haven’t once wondered if we made the right decision. I’ve had moments when I think maybe we were a tad crazy in the head for thinking we could handle more than one kid, ha, but I wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. Most days anyway.

I didn’t think twice about adding Sweet M to the clan. I knew so deeply in my heart that he belonged here that it wasn’t something I spent even a second of my time contemplating once I knew he was coming. I’d all ready experienced how amazing it was to give my kiddos each other. I knew another one would simply be another gift.

I was in the kitchen the other day. A fussy toddler strapped to my chest, a wee mango-sized babe moving furiously on the inside, wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into. I felt like my two big kids had been left for the day to basically raise themselves as I was so focused on their dear baby brother.

But then I peeked out the window and saw them there together; hauling logs into a circle. Picking dandelions. Painting their clubhouse with mud. Trying to do the “spider” on the swing together. Hula hooping. Sitting in the grass, giggling; enthralled in their conversation with one another.

And I knew they were okay.

Some days are long.

Some days there isn’t quite enough time or attention to go around; I admit that.

But it’s okay. Because every single day, they have each other.

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