Dear Jane: one year ago today, you came rushing into the world, leaving no time for paperwork, introductions, i.v.s or the drugs. Oh Jane, mommy really, really wanted the drugs. I was worried that maybe I wouldn’t love you as much as I love your sister. I was worried there was a finite amount of love in a persons heart and I wouldn’t have enough for you. This morning when I had to get up with you at 3:21 a.m., I was a little grumpy and my arm was asleep, making it difficult to change your diaper. But as I sat with you I realized it was almost exactly this time one year ago I was able to sit quietly with you in the hospital. And it was at that moment my heart grew. You see Jane, like all the other mommies in the world I don’t have a finite amount of love to give you and your sister. I have an infinite amount.
You have been my constant companion this past year. You’ve patiently sat on the floor chewing Mr. Potato Head’s mustache while I tried to figure out how to be a stay at home mom. What was I supposed to do with you all day? What if I didn’t stimulate you enough? Was I supposed to sing you songs or show you art work or make you watch Your Baby Can Read? Through all of my craziness you remained (mostly) calm. You only get upset when you really really want something and you can’t have it. Or when your sister runs off without you.
You and Grace. You love her more than any other person in this entire world. I’m sure of it. Always wanting to be near her, to play
with her. Your face lights up when you see her and the way you constantly crane your neck around corners to look for her is adorable. I hope when you are older and fighting over the bathroom you’ll remember you were once best friends.
Janie, I can barely remember the time you weren’t in our family. Sure, you can be fussy and I really really don’t understand why you must make the same enormous mess everyday, but having you here makes things feel complete. Congratulations on surviving one year in this crazy family. It will only get easier from here, I promise. And as I always say, if you don’t like it, you can pack your things and go live with gramma! Love, mommy