Number 2 Should Get To Go Through Being Number 1

L1 and L2, my darling daughters.

When I found out we were expecting another daughter, I experienced a beautiful mix of excitement and unenthused déjà vu. "Another girl? Sweet! Sisters! This is going to be a nice revisiting of the familiar." And much of the experience of raising a second girl has been just that. Changing a diaper on a baby girl is the same the second time around. Dressing an infant girl is pretty much the same task as it was three years ago, except for the fact the clothes have gotten cuter and more expensive. Nursing baby girl number two is figuratively no different from nursing baby girl number one. Things with L2 have been so easy, in fact, that I know the knowledge I gained from raising L1 is in full effect. But that's the probem. I'm a seasoned mom, at least with the infant to preschooler stages, and I'm behaving like it. My L2 has not been privy to the weeping and mood swings of an overworked, sleep-deprived senior medical student mother. She doesn't know of the, "Oh, God! I can't believe I just did that!" exclamations (both out loud and silently to myself) that came with the learning curve of becoming a new mother.  But at the same time, because I am more comfortable in the role of a mother to a baby girl, I feel that L2 is getting the short end of the deal. Don't get me wrong, I love her more than I can express. She is just as adored, pampered, nurtured, and spoiled as L1 was, but I do not do everything with the same newbie trepidation I had before. I don't obsess over all the little details and decisions the way I did with my first baby.  For example, I know that if I need to get her dressed in a mismatched hurry, she will be no worse for wear. If I can't find organic, natural baby wipes at the store, her little bum--that adorable, squeezable bum--will survive. I didn't buy 2 wipes warmers this time around; I've actually forgone the entire wipes warmer mess. I didn't throw a 20+ person dinner party for her 100 Day Celebration. (We had 12 guests over for an intimate, no less extravagant dinner.)   I don't bathe her for a half hour every single time she spits up, and I did not buy a new pack and play--I figured she could use the "new" one her sister never wanted to be in until she got a baby sister to play in it with. I don't love her any less than I do London, and lately, with a sometimes difficult preschooler, I flee to the untouchable solace, peace, and rejuvenation that is possible when I take my second into a quiet room, just the two of us. I let Dad and L1 figure out the tantrum that seems to be announcing the end of the world, while L2 and I cuddle in the dark... But it is often during these mini escapes that I find myself feeling most guilty, as if this lovely moment in time is a recurring reminder that I'm not doing enough for this second baby because I'm simply less neurotic than I was with my first. I worry about her less, and it leaves me feeling remorsefully guilty. What's more, I'm feeling like a bad mom in a different way than I did with L1. With L1, I dealt with the guilt of never being around due to my schedule, the guilt of being tired, the guilt of wanting only to sleep while I rocked her, instead of eating up every baby sound, smile, and smell. My guilt with L2 is completely different. I am not working right now, so I am at her beckon call. I'm not exhausted beyond my sanity, because there are days that the two girls and I just sleep in. But I feel guilty for not being the perfectionist mother I was with L1. I feel guilty that I have not filled out her baby book religiously (which reminds me, I need to buy a baby book for L2). I feel guilty I haven't looked up organic baby food recipes, or steam-sterilized every inch of everything in my home. I feel guilty when I take any time away from L2 to reprimand L1.
But when L2 is sitting on my lap, watching L1 play at my feet, I know her smiles are for her sister. The joy she obviously displays when her sister teases her, and the way she sleeps like a rock when L1 is cuddling her in the preschooler's bed, well that, I know I cannot produce without L2 being the second child. And these moments are perhaps more important to her than having a worrisome, perfectionist mother. These moments, I lock securely into my memory, well-catalogued via photos or blog entries, for ease of retrieval and reliving. So maybe I am still a bit of that neurotic mom I thought no longer existed.

Now, to find the perfect baby book...