This is Archer shorthly after he was born. The whole story is here.
I've been up for a little while. Well, since 3am. It's 5:00am. I figured I might as well just get up. I'm not complaining, though. Before getting pregnant, I would voluntarily get up at this hour to work out and write. Besides, I am used to troubled sleep at this point. If I get 8 hours straight I feel weird the next morning. In the end, pregnancy insomnia is a gift. It slowly prepares your body and mind for the hard months ahead with a newborn. I can't imagine the shock of going from a blissful 8 hour sleeping pattern to an up every 2 hour with a screaming baby one.
But I digress.
As I was lying in bed, adjusting the pillow fort around my hips, I got to thinking. In a little over two months, I will have another baby boy. It won't be just Archer and me anymore. That thought, as much as I already adore and love Maddox, made me a bit sad. I began to worry about my relationship with Archer. It will change. It would have anyway; relationships are always evolving. I suppose, I've just become used to it being my sidekick and me. Archer has been my world for almost two years. It's been a really good two years.
I worry that he'll resent me. That he won't understand why I have to divide my time. Most of all, I worry that he won't be as happy then as he is now. These fears are all normal. I know this. I suppose, no matter how blindingly wonderful the next chapter of your life is, you're always a little sad to see such a lovely one end.
Have you all transitioned from one child to two, three, four, etc? How did it go?