I've actually been putting off this posting, as if not writing it will reverse a few months and I can pretend that my baby isn't really one already. I keep hearing myself saying, "the second time is so different" and I feel so internally different. The one year mark certainly came faster this time vs. last, for a variety of reasons. With Jack there was no one sitting beside me talking and showing me books to read as I fed him, there was no background noise of dinosaurs and zoo animals roaring. No play dates, soccer games, trips to the zoo. Because of course, it was just him. So although Jack got the one on one doting time, he also had to endure my neurosis of being a first time parent, and still feels my caution as he explores new things. He got to be rocked for hours and cuddled in silence. He holds a place for me that cannot be taken, he made me a mother.
On the flip side, Drew can relish in my patience with screaming fits and my joy in watching him fall while he is tottling (without inspecting his body to be sure he is not injured ). I know now that if I let him cry for a few minutes he will go to sleep, that teething does end and that it actually helps him to stay with other people rather than only me 24/7. He can giggle as he watches his brother make funny faces in the car as we drive and actually gets to listen to kid tunes instead of NPR. He has me in a different way, more assured, content although busier. He is a part of a bigger, more improved family that he made for all of us. He holds yet another place for me, he made me a better mother.
Of course, I'm sure I'm not the only mother that wants to sit and look through pictures of the last year and reminisce about the day he was born. How exciting it was and how it never really happens as you plan it to. I know that many of you knew that Jay and I struggled finding a name for Andrew. It was months of tossing around names from Will to Evan, Zack to Alex with no luck. Nothing was right. Zack rhymed with Jack, Will was too prince like, Evan and Alex only one of us liked (guess who?). Oh, and don't forget Cooper and Josh...no way. I mean this is their name forever...it's big, right?! So, I remember still having the baby book out the night before he was born. Grandma Karen and Aunt Lindsay were staying with us and they I'm sure were exasperated with me being so indecisive. How about Sam, I love Sam? Jay likes Sam for a girl, and we already have a Sam in the family. Okay, then it is Max. My favorite...no Max is a dog name, and once again, it kid of rhymes with Jackson. I was still holding out, though. Maxwell Adam Sabine had been my choice from week 8...and I tend to be a tad stubborn. But Jay wasn't entirely on board. Andrew? It's okay, it is only one letter different then my real name and we certainly couldn't have an Andy and an Annie in the family. But Drew I like and I do like Andrew...Andy I can't do. So, we went to bed. Still no name.
The next morning was early and surreal. When you have a c-section there is no timing contractions or leaving the house in any pain. It is just like an appointment, except you leave with a baby, and some recovery time. And your entire life changing in an instant, okay back to the name thing. We didn't even talk names, I think we were preoccupied. It was hard for me to say good-bye to Jackson b/c I knew that his life would be the most effected. I knew that it wouldn't be just the two of us in the car anymore, or reading books at night. And I was scared of that, I liked things cozy and close and with just him. And I was crying about that, about the end of life as I knew it. And Jay was comforting me...again.
We were actually in the pre-op room when I surrendered control. I was huge, I was tired, I was done being pregnant. So, I said to Jay, "Just name the boy, I don't care what it is, just look at him and name him. You'll know." I leave the room and enter the operating room...he enters a few minutes later, sits on the stool and says his name is Max. I smiled and hoped no one would bark at him after they heard his name! And so, Andrew entered the world. With the calmest, sweetest, almost quiet cry. We held him, we cried and we couldn't believe he was here. The nurse takes him from me and carries him to his isolet and promptly asks what his name is. I closed my eyes and was listening to the world around me. And then I hear it, I thought at first I had dreamt what was said. Jay says, "his name is Andrew. Andrew Adam" What?!*& I thought he was Max? I heard myself saying " What did he say? Did he say Andrew? " And just that quickly they left for the nursery. I laid there in my drugged state trying to wrap my mind around the name and my son who I had internally named Max all those months ago.
And then I saw him again, and I saw Jay's pride. He loved the name Andrew and always had and I realized that I did too. I loved the name and I loved that he had given it to him and what that represented for them and the brother that we both adore. And then Max seemed all wrong, which I realize is exactly as it should be. Because he is our little baby Drew.
Next time you ask? Will son #3 be Max? No, I think Max ended that day for me. But Sam on the other hand, not even close!!
Enough about me. Here's wishing you a wonderful first birthday Drew! We wish you globs of great cake for your face, tons of toys you don't need, and as many pictures as we can take! We love you dearly no matter how different it is the second time around :)
**I am happy to report that the little tyke started walking officially on July 5th, and he hasn't stopped since. He is a man on a mission to keep up with his brother, so look out world here he comes!!**
