Dear Juliet

Dearest Juliet,
I think the sibling rivalry/jealousy I have been so fearful of (and so hopeful about avoiding) has set in.

I watch you these days, crying, wanting to be held across my lap and fed your milk from a sippy cup like your little brother. You're still too small to want to be a big girl. You're still, really, a baby yourself.

And no matter how many moments I try to make in each day where it's just you and me, where you're the centre of the world, I know it's never enough. You had me to yourself until 9 weeks ago when it all changed. You were my baby and now I have to look after Simon. I see your eyes follow me when I go to get him out of his cot, hear you whimper and then full-on cry when I get up with him in the early hours of the morning. It kills me, kiddo.

I want to make you see how special you are to me, how badly I wanted you and how you made years of hoping and waiting and disappointment and doctors and tears all worth it in the instant I held you in that hospital room. That every day we shared, just us girls, will always be precious to me. How much I love seeing you grow-- it's never been as bitter as sweet for me. I'm so proud of you, so in awe of you, so in love with you, and even when I'm sitting there, helpless to solve the sadness that's making you cry because I'm feeding your (very needy) brother, I'm watching you and loving you and soaking up every second of seeing you grow and learn and show off just how incredibly smart and beautiful you are.


Sometimes, these days, I feel enormous guilt-- the night I took the pregnancy test for Simon, I looked at you sleeping in your cot and cried-- I felt I was cheating you of time with me, time to be our baby. I know that, before long, you two will be glad to have each other, and that you have someone to love for your whole life, but right now, it's hard for me, too.

So just know that you're still my very special girl, and even though I always thought it was super hokey and cheesy, it's true; a parent's heart expands to hold more love with subsequent children. The love isn't divided, it's multiplied.

Please be gentle with me, darling girl.

Love and kisses,
Your Mummy