The thought of adding a second baby to our family terrified me.
I spent most of my pregnancy wondering if we'd made a giant mistake. It was too soon. They'd be too close together. I was too old. My back hurt too much. I didn't want to go through the pain and hassle of breastfeeding for another year. We'd ruin Jack.
Even the first week or so we were home from the hospital, I had these same thoughts. Jack had a bit of a rough time adjusting right away. We were tired and not on top of our parenting game, so we didn't always deal with his tantrums the best. I was hormonal, sore from surgery, exhausted, convinced I wasn't going to bond with Milo (we had a rough hospital stay), and again I worried that this whole second baby thing was a mistake. Or at least poorly timed.
But then there are days like this. Moments like these. Jack knows that Milo doesn't always like tummy time, so Jack lies on his tummy next to Milo and gives him an encouraging pep talk.
And in these moments I think we're going to be okay.