Loving a second child is the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to explain. When I was carrying Walker, I was worried for Henry. I thought I’d have to give him some of the love I had lavishly poured into his older brother. I thought they’d have to share, and someone inevitably wouldn’t get enough.
But I was relieved to find that isn’t how this works. When Walker was placed on my chest for the very first time, a dam broke and a fresh love poured out that was from the
same river as my love for Henry, but ultimately it was, and still is its very own stream.
Henry was hard won. Hard to conceive, easy to carry, but hard to deliver. Unlike the tumultuous season he was born into, he was calm and easy. I missed his first day because of his difficult arrival, but he knew me the moment I finally touched him. His gentle presence ended up being the balm that healed many of my wounds. In so many more ways than I can share here in a few words, he fixed what was broken in me.
Henry has always been gentle and kind and wise and full of joy.
You know the feeling when you’re sitting on a blanket outdoors on a balmy day and just when it starts to be a little too warm, there is a strong breeze and everyone simultaneously takes a breath and echoes, “That breeze! It’s such a beautiful day!”
That breeze is Henry. He makes life feel beautiful, even when it threatens to become a little uncomfortable.
Sometimes my gentle breeze gets whipped into a frenzy, and he feels more like a little hurricane…but I’m getting pretty good at helping him harness all that energy, and he always returns to his calm center with ease.
Walker came to us while we were on a completely different part of our journey. He joined us when things in our family were already calm and beautiful. He was easy to create, easy to carry, peaceful to deliver. His surgical birth didn’t feel medical. It felt like the spiritual experience I had imagined. It was perfect.
From the moment we knew he was in my belly, Walker’s presence felt like a ray of sunshine streaming through the window on the kind of lazy Saturday morning when you don’t have any pressing reason to get out of bed…Just warm and happy and tranquil.
You know that feeling you get when your eyes open and at first, you think it’s time to get up for work- but then you remember that it’s the weekend? That relief, that happiness, that simple joy… That’s my Walker.
Like sunshine, my second boy can crank up the heat. While Henry is usually gentle and mellow, Walker can sometimes be intense and unrelenting. But like the sun, he is bright and life-giving.
Walker has shined light into places that were still dark, and made me want to be better. Healthier. Stronger. I want to truly live because I can’t wait to see where life takes these brothers as they discover who they are.
Henry, my gentle breeze, and Walker, my sunshine.
Henry reminds me to take a deep breath, and Walker warms my soul.
Every day doesn’t feel special. Being at home with them full time can be hard. I have often wondered if I’ll ever find time to explore my own passions again.
But the long days make up the short years that are flying by, so as long as I live, I will take time to put into the words the wonder of motherhood whenever it hits me.
Each exhausted night, I lay my head down with a full heart, so grateful for my children, and for the privilege of exploring with them and discovering them as they grow.
There is little boy magic in every day of my life, and I don’t intend to miss it.