When my wife Kerry and I first seriously thought about starting a family, we always thought that “two” sounded like a good number of kids to have.
Our first son, Jack, changed our lives and the lives of those closest to us. Our schedules, our plans, and our priorities were now different, and as a family of three, we were blissfully happy. By the time he got to be a year and a half old, Kerry and I thought then would be the time to try for Number Two. We considered their ages – “yeah, 2 or so years between them sounds ideal” – and before you could say “epidural,” Max had arrived.
We were ready for Max. The pregnancy was certainly different than the first, but the expectation and excitement was the same. And we had thought it all through: were we, the parents, ready to assume the responsibility of another baby? My goodness, we could not wait, and we knew we had enough love in our hearts for two or for a dozen of our babies.
But was our first son, Jack, ready?
As a two year old toddler, we assumed Jack would continue to just do his own thing, play with his Thomas trains, watch his Mickey Mouse shows, and be the same ol’ happy Jack we had known all his life, most likely oblivious to the arrival of another mouth to feed.
But, it was not long after Max came home that Jack changed. He seemed to not sleep well; the newborn’s room was next to his, so would certainly contribute. But, more than this, Jack almost seemed depressed. Kerry and I both noticed this. Jack just didn’t have that brightness in him that he seemed to always have. He seemed… worried? Confused? Perhaps he wondered if his place in the family was in jeopardy, or if he was being replaced. In fact, he asked a few days later when the baby would be going back to the hospital.
When I was a first time dad, I struggled at times when Jack was a newborn. The fact that newborns don’t smile or give you any sort of “feedback” for months really bothered me; I didn’t realize that a pair of arms to hold him or gentle kisses were really ALL he needed until he was ready to communicate. Once I got Jack to smile, fatherhood really became a wonderful thing, so it pained me to see Jack unhappy when Max came along. It was then that I realized Jack was in the same place I was with him: he loved but didn’t fully understand the baby. Time was all we both needed to figure things out.
When Max did begin to smile – and, boy, does he love to smile – Jack began to really smile again too. Today, Max is almost 10 months old, and Jack loves to make him laugh and smile every day. We can see it really gives him joy.
I always knew there was a lot of me in Jack, but perhaps there’s even more than I realize.
