In the begining.... It is a given that parents would be highly excited when they are welcoming their first child. The whole pregnancy is documented on a daily bases, each kick or flinch that the baby makes is celebrated. Dairies are written, belly photos are taken ohhhh the love awaiting the first child is out of this world. At least that’s how it was in our house. Then the baby arrives and oh boy! What a whirl wind, what a love trip with our first boy, Aman. Even though he was experimented upon, because we were clueless about what he ate and drank, when and how he slept, he was so loved and spoiled unbelievably. Then came the news of our Second pregnancy while our first was eleven months old, I found out I was three months pregnant. Yes, I got pregnant when Aman was only eight months old. :) Now I was surprised when my excitement was more than my first pregnancy. You see, the way I saw it, I got to have all that love doubled over! Multiplied by two!! I instantly fell in love with my baby :) One evening, two weeks after we found out about baby #2, I noticed I was spotting while we were carrying the groceries into the house. Panicked, I called my Dr immediately. Unfortunately she did not have encouraging news, she said there was nothing she could do for me, since I was only three months along, and that, all I could do is stay in bed and not move for at least three days. I dropped everything I was doing and laid down. My Gabe took over everything for the following three days, and I stayed put. On the fourth day, we followed up with the Doctor, Baby was fine and I got to continue my happy trip. Whoever said that the second child got less attention, was wrong! I was ecstatic! Both my pregnancies were great, but my excitement was supper high this time around. I knew what a joy Aman was, so I was overjoyed to even expand that joy and love some more. When the day came and our Ezra arrived, we were more than ready. We were experienced parents by then, we knew what to feed him and how to work with the sleep pattern… and in turn Ezra was very calm, very easy to take care of, hardly fussed. He ate well he slept well. At the same time, since Ezra was less demanding, Aman continued to enjoy his limelight, but to ensure Ezra received equal attention daily and also to prevent little Aman from feeding him apple chunks, :) Aman was enrolled in daycare as he turned a year and a half. Ezra enjoyed a whole year at home with me, Gabe and my Mom, alternating babysitting. My poor Ezra, my little angel just ate and slept, and never uttered a word. My mom kept asking about his progress, and monitoring him since he was seven- eight months old. It seemed like he never hit any mile stones developmentally, but did great physically. The pediatricians told us not to worry and to stop comparing him with his big brother, who hit his milestones early. Ezra started daycare after he turned one and I started working full time. As we dropped him off the first day, he never cried. It was like he never even noticed us leaving. That afternoon, when I went to pick him up, his attendants asked me if he was used to going to daycares, No, I said, this was his first one. We all thought he was a great child, he is so calm and quiet, they told me, and I went home happy...... Until that hollowly- sinking gut feeling came back again, and I brushed it off. I brushed it off because he was so sweet and playful and hugged and kissed all the time. We would put him in bed after singing to him, and he never fussed, you’d just hear him saying his A B Cs over and over again and then backwards in a flash, from Z to A. He would wake up in the morning and not cry, but just lay in his crib and count or say ABC... again and again. He laughed and played all the time, he never cried, even when he fell, and what a brave boy, I thought, but I was wrong. My Ezra just tricked me so well.
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 16:02:05 +0000
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