To my sister, as you enter into the final weeks of your pregnancy:
In a perfect world, we’d be living next door to each other and having babies at exactly the same time. We’d trade off babysitting duties to give each other a break or send all our kids over to our parents’ together for a big cousin sleepover. We’d complain about the different pregnancy woes we each experienced, compare worries, celebrate milestones, talk each other down from the anxieties plaguing us.
But life worked out differently, and we live three hours away from each other in two different states. I had my three kids one after the other and am finally emerging from the deep trenches of infancy and early toddlerhood, hoping to be completely done with diapers while you start your first stockpile. You will be experiencing motherhood for the first time in just a couple of short months, and while I so wished we could have done this together, I’m beyond proud to be cheering you on from the other side.
It will be my privilege to walk the fine line of giving you advice without being overbearing, to let you know what worked for me while giving you the space to find what works for you. I may not be able to say, “We can do this” while we survive sleep regressions or the terrible twos together, but I can confidently say, “You WILL get through this!” with certainty as someone who has already gone through it.
It will be my joy to encourage you, to support you, to bolster you with everything I have. To understand what you’re going through, to say “I’ve been there.” To listen with empathy, to remind you it gets better, to excitedly give you a glimpse into all the amazing things you have to look forward to with older kids.
I may no longer be getting up every two hours with a baby, but all my kids still wake in the night for one reason or another, and you know I’ll be texting you to keep you company after I walk them back to bed. I may no longer be changing diapers, but I’ve seen every possible nightmare a diaper can contain, and you know I won’t be afraid to receive a poopy picture via text with requests to know what’s normal. I may no longer be cooing in baby talk all day and may finally be speaking in full sentences again like an adult, but you know I’ll be FaceTiming my new nephew and babbling over the phone to him day in and day out.
We may not be experiencing the same ages and stages together, but we will finally get to be moms together, and my heart could explode with pure pride and joy. I can’t wait for my kids to meet their new cousin, for them to play with him and teach them what they know. I’ll be waiting to jump in my car the moment you say he’s here and race to you, not just to hold him, but to hold and celebrate you as well. I’m already so proud of you. I cannot wait for you to experience the joy and agony, the highs and lows of motherhood, and I’m so excited to walk with you through it all, even from a distance, as best as I can. I love you!
