When I became pregnant with my first son, I was concerned about my eldest twerp. She is adopted and LOVED beyond measure, but how would she take this? How would this affect her? She was 6-years-old at the time and had been the center of attention. Would she feel like I treated them differently? Would she be jealous? Resentful? Depressed?
I worried and lamented over this. I tore my clothes and rubbed ashes on my face. I ate locust and honey while wearing a burlap sack. I was in agony. Would she know that she was loved and mine, adopted or not? How would this affect her?
When my son came home from the hospital she was more giddy than I. When he was a few weeks old I laid him on my bed while I took a shower. Eldest twerp was right by his side. They were like ham and eggs, peas and carrots, mashed and potatoes, chocolate and peanut butter...inseparable. While I was getting ready at the vanity I had a perfect view of them. I gazed with a motherly love upon them and soon all fears were subsided by this conversation from my eldest twerp to the baby....
"Baby, your not adopted. Now mommy and daddy still love you, but they got to choose me, they just have to keep you."
At that moment, I knew everything was going to be just fine.