The middle one.

My middle child had another birthday.

We celebrated and sang and reminisced.

My son was born at home after having received thoughtful, considerate care from our midwife. I birthed him in our living room and greeted him with tears of joy. The next several months were spent figuring out how to parent my two young children. It was hard, really hard. I didn't access the resources available to me. I didn't think there was any way to circumvent these challenges, and wondered doesn't everyone have it this hard? Isn't this how it's SUPPOSED to be?! 

My son was more sensitive than my daughter; he was a completely different child than my first, and I didn't have the reserves to mother him in the way he needed. Could things have been different? Hells yes! I could have accessed postpartum support, sought support from a therapist and hired childcare for my older child to help me while I was balancing my own postpartum healing and transition.

But I didn't. <sigh>

My son made me work for his smiles. He studied his surroundings, and he didn't readily sit with people other than my husband or me. He was my sensitive soul, as I referred to him, and I tried to embrace his needs with love and acceptance. But boy, did I wish he was easier. I remember feeling resentful, confused and angry all at once when he just wouldn't display this easy-going disposition. I would feel this deep love for him, and I'd talk with others about how great he was, but then the moment we were with friends and family, he'd cry relentlessly and would only be peaceful if he were nursing or if my husband were holding him. I'd think, seriously?! What the fuck? WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! 

Looking back, I can now see that I just didn't have it in me to mother him in the way he needed. I loved him, I met his needs and I cared for him. But I was not joyful in the way I cared for his needs. I felt put out and burdened. I wondered why he was so difficult and I just wanted him to STOP CRYING! It wasn't until I made some friends, took advantage of playgroups and other local resources and got a handle on mothering two young children that I finally (again!) enjoyed mothering.

I love my middle child, my older son. He brings me joy and smiles, and I can't imagine my life without him. Though he still has bouts of frustration and moments of anger, I am more than capable of holding him in my arms, telling him "I'm here for you." He's my sweet, sensitive soul and I think he's absolutely amazing.