Heartbreaker

On our way out of the hospital, we shared an elevator with a drug rep (I'm assuming here, but the big briefcase and suit kind of gave him away).  "Oh," he said, shaking his head, "your life is about to change."  Maybe it was the no-shit-Sherlock look on my face, but he quickly amended that with, "Unless this isn't your first?"

Now, everyone says this.  "Your life is about to change."  Heck, I say it.  It's one of those things, like "Wait until your father gets home" and "Take smaller bites" and "Your face will freeze that way" that you swear you'll never say, but there the words come, tumbling from your pursed-up parental puss.  And no one who has yet to give birth really gets it.  And those who say it know this.  But they say it anyway.  Because really?  God, is your life about to change if you're having your first baby.  But never, ever, I swear on a pile of vintage wool, would I ever say what he said after I told him we had a three year-old at home:

"Ha, ha!  About to be knocked off that throne, huh?"

Huh?

I wanted to kick him in the Big Pharmaceuticals, if you know what I mean. 

When the Biscuit was born, I was a wreck.  Insane.  I cried all the time.  I cried because nursing hurt.  I cried because his toes were so small.  I cried because someday, some teacher would be mean to him.  Some kid would tell him he couldn't play.  I cried because I was out of these little oatmeal raisin chocolate chip treats I had from Whole Foods on which I sustained myself for weeks.  But with the Fricklet, most of my crying is reserved for how much I miss the Biscuit.  How much I hate to tell him no, I can't "do Play-Doh" right now, because I'm feeding his brother.  Or the following scenario, which broke my heart into a million ba-dillion pieces: 

Biscuit came into the room in the morning, little feet thumping over the floor, wearing his p.j.'s with the trucks on them, and came to a halt at the foot of our bed.  It was the first time he'd seen us there, with Fricklet asleep between us.  And he looked at me with those big brown eyes and asked, "Is there room for me?" 

Hear that?  That sound like a glacier breaking apart?  That's my heart.

Biscuit, just so you know, you'll always be the first.  And on the way to the hospital, while your Nama drove like a bat out of hell and the contractions were coming closer and closer, guess what I was doing?  I was finishing up the yoke on this sweater for you.  Because you taught me everything I know about being a mama.  Because you are gentle and kind and smart and sweet and beautiful.  Because there will ALWAYS, ALWAYS be room for you, even if I have to squeeze myself down into the tiniest ball.  There will always, always be room.

Thank you to all of you for your kind congratulations and for continuing to cyber-visit me.  It's been a huge source of comfort to still feel connected!  I've been catching up on my blog reading bit by bit, though it's hard to comment these days.  If I do, please don't mind if I go all Flowers-for-Algernon on you- one-handed typing is HARD.

Project details can be found here on Ravelry!  I'll get it into the FO's album tomorrow, for those still on the waiting list.

Comments

[caro]

What a lil' heartbreaker. That story brought tears to my eyes. Soooo sweet.
The sweater is perfect.

[rachel]

I love this story. I have to remember it when we have our next one.

And I wasn't going to comment b/c I'm a bloglines reader (such a bad excuse), but I laughed out loud at the "flowers for Algernon" part. That is true on so many levels. One-handed typing AND baby brain. Sometimes I think I need an IEP.

[jillian]

Oh my, I am so late! Big congrats!

I can tell by your words that you are a most kind, wise, and wonderful mum :)

[tracy]

Regular lurker here. I can so relate to you missing your son and I just want you to know you're not alone. No one prepares you for it. I spent all kinds of time worrying I couldn't love two, how to make sure older was included in things, juggling, etc. But I never realized my relationship with my first born would be forever changed. It's a good change, after time, and I love watching him be a big brother, but it was so hard at first. Several days after I brought the baby home from the hospital my oldest became dreadfully ill (flu stuff) and my husband took care of him. I cried so hard that I was not doing my job as his mother. You will have some struggles with this, I'm sure, but then you will come through it and your new relationship with him will be priceless. And those days of only being three will seem so long ago and empty because you can't imagine your family without the fourth. I will always hold a special place in my heart for those first 20 months of motherhood and I grieve the loss of it, but I am so much richer now. And four in the bed? It's possible. And it will happen. More than you can imagine!

Enjoy your boys.

[BethC]

I will admit that when I retold that story to folks at EH, I teared up... good thing I only had one!

[Debbie]

What a sweet story. It brought tears to my eyes.

My, what a cutie he is!

[kmkat]

Oh, the heart-rending-ness of children. My older one, 4-1/2 when #2 was born, seemed sorta down/worried one day. I cuddled him in the big chair and got him to say what was bothering him: Do you still love ME? Of course, you silly boy, I'll ALWAYS love you.

One thing that took me by surprise when #2 was a few weeks old: I had thought a lot about my relationship with #2, my husband's relationship with #2, and of course #1's relationship with #2. Then one day I saw #2 watching #1 with great interest. I had totally forgotten about #2's relationship with #1! The learning never ends...

[Mintyfresh]

Print this post out on acid-free paper and tuck it into the Biscuit's baby book, so he can read it later and, at first, be all "moooom," but later, he'll cry every time. I'm sure crying right now! Beautiful post.

[Heather]

You have such a big heart,and I just love this post so much.

[terhi]

Oh dear, what a beautiful post. And what a perfect sweater on a perfect little boy! Take care!

[Karen B.]

How fortunate for the Biscuit and Fricklet to have a mom who cares as much as you do! I second Mintyfresh's suggestion. This post is a keepsake.

[Ruth]

I tried to respond several times, but between the "I know what you mean" crying and typing one-handed, I was being very incoherent.

Transitions are hard. Even happy ones.

[Kirsten]

So beautifully said. My oldest is sixteen, and I still feel the same way.

[liz in CT]

That made me cry a little too - and I'm at work!
The Biscuit is so cute in his new sweater!

[reluctantmango]

*sniffle* What a lucky biscuit to have a mom that loves him so much!

[Melissa]

Lovely, and a lovely sweater!

[lola]

I've been getting more & more emotional about this issue with each kicking & day marked off the calendar. Thanks for putting into words.

[Miss Scarlett]

Oh - this post teared me up. Is there room indeed. Your answer is beautiful. The sound of a glacier breaking apart - is there a harder job than being a Mom?

The pictures of the Biscuit are so beautiful. HE is beautiful. His lovely curly hair.

btw - Flowers for Algernon tore my heart apart when I read it in Grade 5 -- but your reference is funny!

I love the colours you used for his Drive Thru - they suit him quite well.

I also just realized that in an earlier comment I mistakenly referred to Fricklet as the Biscuit (guess I was thinking of one-in-the-oven which could be how he got that blog name in the 1st place) Sorry about that!

[stinkerbell]

you have your priorities in teh right place :) and biscuit will know it as will fricklet!

[mai]

i hope that the biscuit will read this years from now and realize how much his mama loves him :)

[ashpags]

That sweater is gorgeous, and Biscuit is too cute! I was about Biscuit's age when my little brother was born...I wonder if I ever said anything like that to my Mom...I'll have to ask. =)

[Becky]

DO NOT EVEN PLAN TO RESPOND TO THIS COMMENT! (that's me being forbidding). My boys are three years apart, and I, too, have a heart-tearing memory of Elder Son racing up to the bed where Younger Son was lying, for the first time, and everyone gasping, "Careful!!!" and the look on his face. . . . OUCH. Yet I deeply believe that it is such an important lesson for kids to learn, that they aren't alone, aren't #1, even as I cried then and still tear up.

SO. Relax. Enjoy. Do what you can. And welcome to the Two Boys Club!

[amisha]

this post made my heart melt. i am sure that biscuit knows how special he is to you... and that sweater will remind him every time he puts it on that he is wrapped in love!

[margaux]

lovely post. what a wonderful mother those handsome boys have. i mean honestly, knitting while in contractions!? Mama Frick, you are my hero.

[Sharon]

Beautiful sweater, gorgeous post. A good friend just had her second three months ago. The other day, she told me that having a second was definitely much harder on her as a parent than on her eldest. I think we mommas are too good at beating ourselves with guilt. I mean, seriously, you were in labor and still managed to finish up a sweater for him. If that ain't lurve, I don't know what is.