My pregnancy with Evelyn was filled with a persistent fear that I would birth her and find myself incapable of loving her. It seemed inconceivable to me that I might love another child as fervently as I loved Charlotte. I also worried that I might resent her because she interrupted our adoption and was conceived while I was still actively mourning our loss.
And then she was born. And she was perfect. And she was mine.
Evelyn will be five months old this week. I have loved her more quietly than I loved her sister. I have loved her more steadily. I have loved her more reverently.
When Charlotte was born, I often spent long hours watching her sleep and longing for the days when she would walk and run and jump. What color would her eyes be? When would she crawl? What would her voice sound like? I have always loved Charlotte exuberantly. I love her big personality, her loud voice, her fearless nature, her fierce curiosity.
But Evie, my Evie, is a different bird. I love her silence, her husky growls, her cautious nature. And, oh, be still my heart, the look of utter contentment that comes across her face as she sleeps pressed against my body. I often spend long hours sleeping beside her, enjoying the moment, reluctant to let it pass. We are still getting to know each other, the two of us, and I am appreciating every second.
Two different girls.
Two different ways of adoring them.
But in the end, I love them equally. When I cradle my daughters in my arms, I am holding my everything and I cannot help but love them both with every fiber of my being.
It really is true that parenthood expands your heart in unforeseen ways. I have never in my life been more thankful to find that my fears were unfounded.
** Charlotte is three years and eight months old. Evie is (almost) five months old.