I love my firstborn more than my second.
I love my second and expect to love him just as much as my first ― someday. Just not yet.
My second child was born just six weeks ago. Like all newborns, he eats, sleeps and poops. I’ve spent most of my time since then soothing him, nursing him, and reading. I just can’t gaze at my baby for hours on end.
Frankly, I find newborns boring. Apart from eating, crying, and staring, they hardly interact with you. It’s not their fault ― they still think they should be in the womb!
They’re adorable, but so are puppies. There isn’t much that’s specific and unique to them alone. I have a strong affection for my baby, but there’s no way for me deeply appreciate him as a person.
In contrast, my almost three-year-old makes me laugh out loud every day. His ideas are sometimes too big for his mouth, setting his words on repeat. When something he likes catches his eye, whether a poofy dandelion or big truck, a smile stretches across his face.
Walking down the sidewalk, he holds my hand and insists, “Gallop, mommy!” “Reading” a sign at the nearby playground, he declares it says, “Fun park.” Spotting a rabbit in our yard, he proclaims, “It’s the Easter Bunny!” Sitting in his room, he recites his favorite books word-for-word from memory. Supporting his brother during tummy time, he cheers “Crawl!”
Falling in love with my older son is a process that has gone on for three years and will never be complete. Each beautiful quirk draws me in further. Him becoming a big brother has led him to develop a new set of characteristics that I adore. Even when he’s being a pain in the ass, I can see past the moment to how it reflects his distinctive personality.
Cuteness just can’t compete. But I don’t expect it to.
Instead, I expect my affection for my second son to grow as he does, leading to a love as strong as I have for his brother. That as every unique characteristic emerges, every new skill, every new development, my heart will expand too. That as he becomes his own little person, I will love him more than I could ever imagine.
I don’t love my younger son as much as his big brother or as much as his future self. But that’s not sad; it’s wonderful. There’s simply so much for me to fall in love with. And I look forward to every bit of it.