The week was a blur. I spent most of it in bed wondering if I was sick. I was tired, nauseous and a little suspicious.
“This feels familiar,” I thought to myself as I nursed my 6 month old baby girl in bed, too dizzy to cradle her in the rocking chair in her yellow nursery.
“But there’s no way….” I told myself, several times, pushing aside the possibility that I could be pregnant again. It was just too soon, too crazy. Wasn’t it just 2 years ago that I was wondering if I would ever be pregnant at all?
And yet within the same week, the two pink lines on the pregnancy test revealed that it wasn’t too soon or too crazy.
A trip to the hospital confirmed that I was, in fact, 8 weeks pregnant and due to deliver in 7 short months. My children would be 13 months apart!
WHAT JUST HAPPENED!
I remember leaning against the wall in the bathroom in tears while my husband waited patiently for the result outside. I opened the door to hand him the pee stick and studied his expression. All joy, just joy, written all over his face. I felt a million emotions wash over me. Fear. Disbelief. Nervousness.
Joy.
And so began our second story of parenthood, with our second born Maria, who is one of our shared life’s sweetest surprises.
Regina was our first miracle. During the time I was pregnant with her, I was nauseous and vomiting for two months while at work. I had a miscarriage scare, caught a viral infection, and became reacquainted with my childhood asthma. I was even required by my doctor to do bedrest twice! It was stressful, and exciting, and highly unpredictable pregnancy.
Regina outside of the womb is the same. She makes her presence felt and heard everywhere she goes. She is temperamental, passionate, and star of every show. She is addicted to our affection, needy and attached. Yet she is our sunshine, so cheerful, so affectionate, so thoughtful and sweet.
Maria, our second miracle–our bonus and frosting, is turning out to be the opposite. My pregnancy with her was smooth and uneventful. I was juggling numerous things while pregnant with her. A new part time job, a small but growing business, and her older sister who needed my time, love and affection. She grew inside of me, silently, with a lot of serenity. She just let me do my thing. Often I forgot I was pregnant, and by the time I was due for delivery the whole thing took me by surprise. It was like I woke up one day with two babies.
As a baby and a toddler, Maria is the same. Much more quiet, serious, and reserved. She hardly complains, almost never protests. She welcomes her medicine drop like it carries candy. Her cries after an injection are short lived. She is obedient, and always waits for her turn.
As I observe my daughters–already showing their personalities, the traits they are likely to carry into womanhood, I wonder that they will be like as adults.
I wonder how they will celebrate life’s joys and face life’s difficulties.
They will react differently, cope differently, recover differently, just as they do today.
Life will present itself in different ways to these two very different girls, and they will survive and flourish in the ways they know.
And because I know they will navigate life together, I don’t need to worry. Because no matter what comes, at least they have each other. One will push, one will pull. One will go and one will stay. One will fight and one will find peace.
They will be together, supporting, coaching, and teaching on another.
And this is why, no matter
how soon
and how crazy it was to be pregnant and nursing again so soon after my first baby,
and no matter how soon
and how crazy it is to raise 2 kids under 2,
it is all worth it, because we gave them a gift that they will cherish forever: a sister.
