My daughter, who is now nine, was an “oopsie” baby. Come on. I know I’m not the only one who conceived while drunk. Anyway, now that I also have a newborn, after much thought and planning, it’s a whole different experience. I’ve come to realize that I appreciate my son much more than I did my daughter. This sounds sort of awful, but hear me out.
When I had my daughter, I had no idea what to expect, like all first time mothers. I really didn’t understand the sleep deprivation or how much a baby changes your life. Because I was ten years younger than I was now, I was still interested in having a social life and the fact that having a baby distanced me from some of my friends was hurtful. As was the constant noise, which I was not used to.
Mostly, what I can remember from having my daughter, is the sleepless nights, trying to get her asleep again once she woke up, and… um, that she had no hair. But this time around, having a baby almost a decade later, knowing that for sure this was going to be my last, I appreciate everything about him so much more. Even during pregnancy, I didn’t complain as much as I did the first time around. Yes, my back hurt. Yes, I had these awful leg cramps. And, yet, I couldn’t wait to meet the little man.
With my daughter, I can honestly say I wasn’t even interested in buying furniture or designing her room. Her father and I went to Pottery Barn, while I sat in a chair, and told the sales employee that we were having a girl and please just pick out everything we need. I was out of the Pottery Barn in an hour. Her room was decorated when I was in the hospital, by an interior decorator.
Don’t get me wrong. The second I saw her I burst out into tears, the good kind of tears, and that moment will always remain my favorite memory of all time. But ask me about any of her other milestones?