Wednesday 27 March 2013

The truth about order

I suppose like every person pregnant with their second child, whilst  carrying Miss L in utero, I gave some thought to the topic of birth order. I wondered if I'd feel differently towards my second baby or if his or her arrival would change my love for Miss I or even if it would be possible to love another child quite as much as Miss I. I was curious to see how the matter of maternal love would play out in my little heart.   

I'm a middle child and growing up, I'll admit, there were times when I envied my siblings' positions. My sister for being the oldest and my brother for being the youngest. I imagine wherever you are born in a family most of us will have, at least occasionally, considered the relative drawbacks and draw cards of our own position. 

It's quite awful but I do remember asking mum and dad, more than once, to nominate their favourite child. (Thinking back I may well have been the only one posing this ridiculous question but I sincerely hope I wasn't.) Whether it was just me asking or it was in unison with my siblings, my parents always answered the same way. Don't ask ridiculous questions. We love you all equally. I was consistent with my response. "Yeah everyone says that but who do you really love more? There's got to be one."     

I've never had reason to doubt their answer but I was always curious; do parents really love their children equally? Having my own children has taught me it is. It's also taught me that if there is one saying that sums up the truth about birth order it's this; what you lose on the swings you'll make up on the roundabout. 

Yes, the first born will bask in their parents' undivided attention for at least nine months. Yes, there might be a little more fuss before they first join the world, they will receive fewer hand-me-downs and they will enjoy having their run of the house and all the toys for at least a little while. But second and subsequent children reap the reward of parents who have actually got some experience under their belts. They know how to feed, cuddle and even settle a real baby. Bonus! Plus they will have the entertainment and distraction of a sibling around the clock.  

It is swings and roundabouts. There are times when I worry that the lovely Miss L is in the background. That she's not the sole star of the show like Miss I was for two and a half years. Those feelings never last long though because the flipside is all in Miss L's favour. Because I have done this before, because I know this time passes and because I am not quite so worried about getting everything right or wrong, I am free to enjoy Miss L's baby days more. My love is no different but my ability to enjoy it is. Vastly.  

On many occasions since Miss L graced our family I have found myself thinking, and saying, how magic it would be if everyone could just jump straight to their second baby. Not because I would ever ever want anyone to miss the first baby. It's just the experience, second time around, is less overwhelming. The difference the arrival of a baby makes to the lives of two previously childfree adults is without precedent and the only way to acclimatise is to live through it.

I know there are people who find that acclimatisation easy but I think they're in a lucky minority. Even parents blessed with the most contented little babies face a big transition first up because even contented babies need constant attention. It's why I think even with a more difficult baby it is still far easier second time around. Because you're match fit.  

And it's the reason meeting Miss L has been a completely different ball game. Not because she is any more or less demanding as a baby. She feeds and sleeps and plays in much the same way Miss I did. The primary difference is me. I remember when Miss I was about the age Miss L is now I still felt vulnerable. I wasn't completely convinced I'd ever get a full night sleep again or that I wouldn't be operating a human milk bar at all hours. My head was constantly filled with the length and frequency of every feed and sleep. I worried that with one wrong step I might end up on an episode of Supernanny. 

I don't feel like that this time. I know I'm capable of the task and I know how fast it will go. The walking and talking Miss I is a living reminder of that. It means I can't look at my lovely little baby without wonder. I still can't believe she's ours and I can't believe she's nearly five months old. I stare at her often and hope her uncomplicated baby days never end. She is sublime personified.

There are times when her simplicity makes Miss I feel impossibly difficult; Miss L grins happily if she gets so much as a smile whilst Miss I is melting down because the wrong parent poured her milk. But there are also times when Miss L's loveliness can't compete with the humour and fun bursting out of her older sister. When Miss I says to me "Mummy! I haven't cuddled Lulu all day!!" as if it's the most disastrous state of affairs imaginable, when in fact it's only 7.15 in the morning and Miss L isn't even awake. 

The thing is, they both have their moments. Good and bad. Happy and unhappy. But, with my hand on my heart, I can tell you I don't have a favourite. At least not for any longer than a minute. Or an afternoon at the absolute longest.  

Do you think everyone does love their children equally or do some have favourites?

3 comments:

Erin said...

Lovely post! I loved Miss I's cuddle comment in particular. X

GGPA said...

I know for sure your Nanny had the perfect answer for that question. When asked who her favourite daughter was, her response was "the last one who was here".

Amy said...

I couldn't have articulated it better myself!! even if i dedicated a whole week to it ; ) my mum's answer always used to be similar but she would add the disclaimer that her heart is with the one who needs her most and with a sick 2.5 year old I can understand this sentiment also. xo