After I had Oliver, I felt so satisified and at peace. If you're not a mom, you may not understand, but Oliver gave me peace. Not world peace, but peace with myself. I finally feel like I doing what I was meant to do. Being someone who I can live with. Tranquil. I love being a Mom. Michael started talking about having another one when Oliver was nearly a year old. I thought, how can I mess with fate? I have a healthy, beautiful, baby boy who I love so very much. My heart can't fit anymore love in it - I don't have the room. I was very hestitant this last year to even get pregnant, but Michael wanted another one and I truly felt Oliver needed a sibling. I have two siblings, so does Michael, and Oliver loves playing with his cousins. This pregnancy has been hard and I admit I've complained more than I did with Oliver. Again, I keep asking? Are we ready to do this again? The late nights? The house arrest for the first 6 weeks? Two kids? Really? Oliver is so independant and we really have so much freedom with him - how can I go back to square one? How will Oliver react when he's not the only shining star in our house? Will his feelings be hurt? Will he understand? Ugh! All these thoughts and worries. I'm due in May, but these last few months I just don't feel so ready to do it all over again. Then I take a look at his baby photos today. Tears start flowing and I remember how tiny and beautiful he was. The happiness we felt and the tears we shed for EVERY little thing he did. His first smile. His first laugh. His first coo. His first time to attempt crawling. His first everything! Truly amazing! Yeah, it was hard, but worth every minute of it! I think: Yes, I can do this all over again. Just take a look at Oliver. He's amazing. I'm looking forward to all the "firsts" again.
