Big Brudder

The other night Andrew and Chase and I were relaxing in the family room when I started to feel the baby kick. The kicks were stronger than they'd been up until then, and I called Chase over to see if he could feel it. He put his hand on my belly and his eyes grew wide and he smiled and asked, "Is that the baby?" in a voice just barely over a whisper.

I told him that yes, that was his baby brother or sister (he still insists it's a "brudder") and he could even talk to the baby if he'd like.

"Hi Baby, it's me, Chase," he started, and then stopped and looked at me quizzically, because I guess even 3-year-olds feel a little silly the first time they find themselves talking to the abdomen of another person.

"Tell the baby about all the things you'll show him after he's born," I prompted Chase (and yes, we always fall back on the masculine pronoun, probably because we're so used to using it, but it's no wonder Chase is convinced he's not going to be having a little sister), and he went into a lengthy diatribe about Sesame Place and Toy Story and the primate house at the zoo and playing Super Hero Squad, before stopping again and telling Andrew it was his turn to talk to the baby.

"Hi Baby," Andrew began, "It's me, your Daddy."

Chase's startled eyes shot up from my belly and landed on Andrew's face, and I have no doubt that in that instant, we both had the exact same thought. But you're Chase's Daddy.

He's going to have to share us with someone else, for the first time, ever. It wasn't necessarily the first time it had occurred to me, but it was the first time I'd seen it on Chase's face and it positively broke my heart. Chase actually seemed to recover very quickly from this realization, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. I burst into tears because this, more than anything else, is what gives me pause when I think about our growing family.

Luckily for me, this issues seems to be mine and mine alone, as neither Chase nor Andrew seems overly concerned about it, but it's the emotional equivalent of an Achilles heel for me; the one thought that's guaranteed to make me cry every time it creeps into my brain. I know that when the baby comes, it will be an adjustment for all of us, I just want it to be an easy one for Chase.