I can remember sitting down with Mike to write out Abby's birth announcement for the local paper. She was a handful of days old and we couldn't wait to announce to the world about our brand new baby girl. I remember cutting it out of the paper and setting it carefully aside with all the other traditional keepsakes. I read that announcement over and over, after waiting five years for the stork to arrive, I still had a hard time believing she was actually here. That little announcement made me very happy.
Fast forward four years and along came Maya. She spent the first three weeks of her life scaring the hell out of everyone by refusing to continually breathe on her own with any kind of regularity. Even after we brought her home I was still sort of holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Having a hard time truly believing we were getting off as lucky as we did. I could write volumes about the "survivor guilt" I carry.
We never got a birth announcement into the paper for Maya. Those first few weeks we couldn't even begin to think about it. Then it seemed like we'd be tempting fate. The days turned into weeks, turned into months and all of the sudden she's six and it just never happened.
As you can imagine the Mommy guilt is killing me. The second born child always gets less, isn't that what they say? I often think I should put a happy birthday announcement in the paper and cover it that way. Or do you think I'm the only one that's ever going to obsess about this? Would it bother you?