The second time around...

Baby #2 is due this spring!  April 30th to be exact, but I'm hoping that an earlier appearance is in the cards.

I am scurrying around and planning for the new arrival.  I make list after list and check things off.

We have been cleaning out the nursery, arranging our bedroom to make late night feedings/diaper changes easier, ordering cloth diapers, sorting through old baby clothes, reviewing the stuff that's good to know for labor, and attempting to declutter.  We are building coops and hutches, making home repairs, planning freezer meals, and planting our garden.

I feel prepared!

But in all the preparation, I can't help but think how different this second time is from the first.

Life has changed so much in just a few years since Gilbert was born!  Let's recall shall we?

He was so tiny and cute. Moving along...

We are blessed to currently live in a good-sized, three bedroom house with plenty of space for kids and critters.

I love stepping into the new baby's nursery and admiring all the traditionally-expected baby gear, lovingly cleaned and ready.  It's wonderful!

Yet instead of feeling pure happiness, I find myself struggling with mixed emotions.  I know.  Struggling? Mixed emotions? Not what a gal would expect when life is good.

At first I tried to shake the feeling and chalk it up to the sleep deprivation, Braxton Hicks, and hormones.   But I think I finally put my finger on the cause...

I feel guilty that our experience with this baby will be so different from the experience we had with Gilbert.  I am worried that Gilbert missed out on something that this baby will have.

When we brought Gilbert home, it was to a 750 sq ft, one bedroom apartment in Seattle.  There was no nursery.  There were no baby decorations.   We had no crib, just a bassinet.  No changing table, just a pad.  No dedicated chest of drawers, just a a few plastic drawers re-purposed from my college days.  

Most of what we did have for Gilbert was generously gifted from family and friends.  Seriously... everything from the bassinet to the baby swing, even the diapers/wipes, were all gifts.

We finally got a crib when he was six months old that we narrowly squeezed into the corner of our bedroom...

 

And when he began to crawl, we carved out a bit of child safe play space...

But that was kind of it.  There was no space, so we managed without many of the customary conveniences new parents purchase.  There was no furious "nesting"  before he arrived.

Thinking about it makes me feel a melancholy kind of guilt.  I know it shouldn't. I know that stuff is not what matters.  Gilbert was spoiled with attention and love.

And yet I still struggle.  I struggle to accept that having all the "right" gear, the coordinated color schemes, and a themed nursery just weren't and aren't important.  They don't make children feel more or less loved.

At the same time I feel guilt, I also feel thankful.  Thankful that by forgoing a move to a larger apartment at the time and skipping the usual loot, we had very little financial stress and a month to month lease (which proved a saving grace when Abe was laid off when Gil was 5 months old and we chose to move).

So... I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel guilty, I feel prepared, I feel elated for the new addition to come.  Lord, have mercy on my poor husband.  Pregnancy and emotions have eaten my brain.