Consider keeping a baby book for your second child

It's really starting to get to me. It's keeping me up at night. I tell myself I'm not a bad Mom because of it. But yet I do nothing.

*Gulp* I haven't yet purchased a baby book for my daughter Lily Rose.

There, I said it.

It's not that I love her any less than her big brother Joseph Hunter. She's my little girl. I love her so much it's gut-wrenching at times. This little person who always has a smile for me. Who looks after me with fierce concentration and panics when I edge out of her sight.

My fears about her were unfounded. When I was pregnant with her I agonized about whether or not I would be able to love her. I was afraid that to love her would mean to take love from Joseph. The night before she was born I cried and said to God "I changed my mind! I only want Joseph! He is enough for me!". I was afraid of this new baby severing the tether that bound me to my son. People assured me that I had love enough in my heart for two. Love is boundless, they proclaimed. My Mother told me that love does not divide, but multiplies. I took comfort in that, but remained skeptical.

Until I felt them pop her out of me and heard her very first cry. I lost it. I bawled tears of pure joy and thought to myself how like a cat she sounds. I've always loved cats. They brought her over to me so I could kiss her sweet squalling little face. I'd never been more happy in my life, having been under general anesthesia for the birth of my son.

Later in the recovery room I got to hold her for the very first time. She was crying. I was determined to claim her as my own. I had told myself ahead of time to fight off the feelings I had with her brother, that this beautiful child can't possibly be mine, that I don't deserve him and have nothing to offer him. I reached out and pulled her to me. You are a part of me I telepathed. I enveloped her in my warmth and smiled against her through my tears on her cheek. My God, she stopped crying. She actually seemed soothed. She was still looking right at me and her eyes were as black as an eclipse. They pierced right through me, and continued to do so during the night as I fed her. Soon enough, those eyes became my constant companion. I continued to marvel at their ability to shine their light on me in the blackest of night. The attentive steel-eyed gaze of my daughter has become one of the biggest unexpected joys of my life.

That said, you'd think I could muster up the energy and wherewithall to get her a baby book. You'd think. I keep telling myself that it was easier with her brother because I didn't have my hands full with two so very young. That I am so enjoying spending the time with her and living in the moment instead of succombing to the constant self-induced pressure to catalog every precious nuance and moment. That my lack of notation is helping us to form a stronger bond. But I know that isn't going to fly the day Joe finds his baby book and Lily Rose turns those magical eyes in my direction and says "Where is my baby book?".

I can't take it anymore. I am going to buy one today. I love you, Lily Rose.