How Could I Love Another?

Charity….my five year old.  My first born.  

The first to make me a mother, and I completely doted over her from the day she was born. For the first time, I could honestly say I’d met someone that I would give absolutely everything for and do everything in my power to make sure they received everything in return.  The emotions were so overwhelming potent that just the thought of the reality of her in my life could bring me to tears.

I shared all these first mommy moments with her that were so special.  While I don’t consider myself a very sentimental person; this girl weakened that part of me (or strengthened it depending on how you look at it).  The pregnancy carried great sentimental value for me, and there was a sweet little sentiment behind everything she did and every moment we shared.  Even when toddlers are said to be at their worst (terrible two’s and three’s), she was my best!  My road dog….my ace boon coon.  I can imagine this is how Sally Field’s character felt about her daughter in Steel Magnolia.

Steel Magnolias.  That dang Steel Magnolias.  There has NEVER been a movie in the history of all movies that made me cry like this movie did.  I mean snot slangin’ ugly cry, but I digress.

Abigail……my 7 week old.  The Sequel.

Rashid and I decided we wanted to add another arrow in our little quiver.  You know, round out the family with a little boy.  The only thing is, our little boy turned out to be another little girl.

I spent most of 2015 carrying the second little darling of ours.  I’d forgotten what it was like to be pregnant after 5 years, but I do know I wasn’t too fond of it either time.  To be honest with you, I didn’t really feel much of a connection to the baby during the pregnancy.  I knew she was in there.  I was happy she was in there, but my mind hadn’t caught up with the realization that she would be coming.  I suspect it was because I was actively working and raising another child so there wasn’t much down time to think about a whole lot.  That and I had a case of acid reflux you wouldn’t wish on your worse enemy.

There was a thought that came to mind a couple of times that I have only voiced once.

How in the world am I going to love this child they way I love my first??  Charity was the first to make me a mom, and that was my girl!  I knew a second baby would change the dynamic of our relationship, I just wasn’t sure how.

I’ve heard parents say how they love all of their children the same.  I just couldn’t fathom how it was so.  (I am being real here.)  I had spent five years getting to know this awesome little reflection of myself.  I knew her and she knew me.  We had established a wonderful rapport.  This new little girl….I didn’t know a thing about her.  I figured she would be cute and precious as all get out (as most babies are), but I was starting over from the beginning.  To tell you the truth, the thought of starting over annoyed me, but I was willing to roll with it.

About 7 to 8 months into the pregnancy.  Things started to click and I was ready to renovate the whole house to make room for Abby and all her stuff (babies come with lots of STUFF…just stuff all over the place.  Charity and I plotted about how we were going to welcome her home and how she (Charity) was going to be the best big sister ever!  The whole house was excited!

As soon as the doc handed Abby to me I realized how ridiculous my previous thoughts were.  How could I love another kid as much as I love the first?  Because she is just as much a part of me as the first.  Just as much….not more and not less.  These are my girls….my blessings.  My gifts from God.

While Abby is just as special to me as Charity, I feel that I’ve approached this go at parenthood with a slightly more level head and not as much emotion, as I know some of things that are coming my way…….LORD HELP!

Does any of this make any kind of sense?



I Didn’t Plan for This…..

“After a few brief failed relationships in and after college, my mantra stood stronger than ever…All men are dogs.”

Marriage.  Remember that thing I said was on the back burner?  Well, it was nearer than even I could imagine.  After a few brief failed relationships in and after college, my mantra stood stronger than ever….All men are dogs.  All men are dogs.  All men are dogs.  I was convinced.  I’d made peace with the prospect of remaining  single.  Especially if it saved me the inconvenience of a heart break.

The day I met my husband wasn’t extravagant by any means.  While he tells me he knew I was the one right away, I wasn’t so readily or easily convinced.  My vision was colored by my mantra and past experiences.  Of this one thing I was sure, my time was not to be wasted and my heart not to be toyed with.  I had not too long before him just ended one relationship so you could imagine my trepidation about jumping into another one.

Now seven years and two children later, I can honestly say the Lord answered prayers about a husband I hadn’t even prayed.  There were definitely some things we had to work through in the dating phase of our relationship, but by the time we married I was certain I had my all or nothing. I would not have been able to accept his proposal if I felt any other way.  He makes me feel like he will always be to committed to ensuring I am taken care of physically, mentally, spiritually and financially.  For the first time I felt like someone actually had my best interest at heart, and sincerely seeks to love and lead me the way a husband is intended to.

Rashid (that’s his name) proved me wrong.  The Lord proved me wrong.  They worked in tandem to shred my my mantra and soften my heart.  I guess the least I could do was HAVE ALL OF HIS BABIES!!!

In those young ripe days of my adolescence, I thought more about a future career path than a family.  My career plans didn’t necessarily pan out as I’d plan, but I can honestly say that the unplanned family has been a welcome addition to my life.  I just kind of took it all in stride and went with the flow…..still going with the flow at times it seems.

All Men are Dogs?

“…I embraced it as my lot in life, and I was prepared to live it.”

I wasn’t one of those girls that grew up dreaming up the perfect wedding or the perfect husband.  I didn’t think about how many children I would have and what life would be like in the house with the white picket fence.  I wouldn’t necessarily say that I didn’t want any of these things or that I didn’t care.  I just never spent a whole lot of time thinking about it.  Mainly because, as a girl, that was not my present reality.  My household consisted of me, my mom and older sister.

My father was in my life, but not in the house (parents split up when I was five), which made my family dynamic a bit disjointed.  While I didn’t spend waking hours pondering my future family, I consciously knew what I wanted for any family I might have was not what I lived.  I hoped for better for myself and for my children, but I didn’t have a vision of how better was to look.  What I did know (with or without merit) is that boys were dispensable so long as they infringed upon my happiness or my personal goals, and most importantly, they all wanted only ONE thing (I am sure you know); thereby making them all DOGS.

Handed to me by my mother, all men are dogs became my mantra.  This didn’t keep me from liking a boy or two here or there, but it always stood as a reminder of what I could eventually expect out of a guy.  Every guy that has been in the life of me, my sister, my mother and my friends all aided in making the mantra even truer.  They were dogs.  Seeing that I tend to be an all of nothing sort of woman, I placed the idea of marriage on the back burner.  If I were to marry, I would have to marry Jesus Himself so as not to be forever plagued with a man’s dog like tendencies for the rest of MY life.

These were the lessons I picked up along the way.  This was my reality.  I didn’t know another.  I didn’t actively seek another, but I embraced it as my lot in life, and I was prepared to live it.