The Other Child

When I was pregnant with the twins, I looked at Adela and was sad. It would no longer be just her and I. I would miss that. Little did I know that Adela's sisters would take so much of my time, attention, and emotions away from Adela. Through it all--months of bedrest, months of NICU, and subsequent months of doctors and therapies for Micaela--Adela was resilient.

​Until she would not do it anymore.

​My sweet quiet Adela recently flipped a switch.  I know part of this is being four. I know part of this is her finding her feet and testing the ever-rippling waters. But I also know, deep down, that Adela is needing me.

​Because when you have a child like Micaela who requires you to hands-on help her learn eating, moving, and talking, it becomes desperately impossible to give equal portions of yourself to that "other child". That other child: my sweet beautiful side-kick whom I have always felt so blessed to be a mother to.

​Thankfully, God never gives us impossibility. And, as I wiped tears away last week when I couldn't reason with Adela, make her listen or cooperate, I realized that there has been more than Micaela being prioritized above Adela--things that I could let go even if it meant I needed to let the grass and weeds get taller and my current novel-writing be delayed.

​I held Adela tight and was thankful that she has started to fight me, to insist that she get a portion of life. I have excluded her from so much simply from habit. But she is not the eighteen-month-old that saw me on bedrest, pregnant and sick. She is a four year old watching her mother rush around, anxious and busy, and rarely inviting her into my world.

​Oh, my love, my little sidekick. I do hope you wouldn't mind if we start doing this together, all this life.  

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The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.
​Zephaniah 3:17 NIV