Grief never actually goes away. It does not diminish.
Why am I talking about grief?
Because I have a new baby.
---
Before Lila, Maya and I had ample time alone together. We made many memories building a doll house out of cardboard boxes, chasing after peacocks and chickens at the zoo, visiting the aquarium with friends and marveling at the exotic fish. We attended story time at the library together, sang songs, played hide and seek around the house, blew bubbles in the yard, spent hours working on find-it activities, made goop and play dough and bath salts. I watched her learn ballet at her dance class; watched her practicing gymnastics for the first time; saw her learn how to swim; saw her proud, little face when she accomplished something new.
And now, there's someone else there; someone who takes my attention, my time, my affection, my love away from my beloved first daughter. A usurper. An interloper.
I resent her. Then, other times, I resent Maya for begging me for the attention I was formerly able to dedicate solely to her. I cry, scream, blame myself, think hateful thoughts, then I try to make up for all that silent anger with guilt gifts, usually frozen yogurt or a lollipop.
Today, I considered going to Hobby Lobby on my own, but I couldn't do it because that's where we spent so many hours looking up and down the aisles at all the pretty things and talking about the crafts we were going to do.
When she persistently asks me to push her on the swing or pretend she's a baby "one more time" or read her books while the baby is sucking the milk out of me at an alarmingly quick rate, I can feel myself losing my patience and wanting to snap hateful things at her.
I resent Maya for stealing that individual attention Lila may never know because she is not number one. My tiny, innocent baby who depends on me for life, whose needs I cannot ignore or postpone. She cannot make a sandwich for herself, or go to the bathroom without me, control her limbs or even lift her own head without help.
---
So, I grieve. I love, and I grieve, and I grieve and I love. I try to make sense of all this, to find balance and give each of my children their due while trying to maintain my own sanity and take care of myself.
Each day, we do something to help us return to "normal;" to do something that we did "before." It takes so much more intention and energy now. I have to carry so much more gear!
