Expecting a 2nd child. It’s different this time.

It’s different this time.

Bixie’s second pregnancy is humming along nicely. She’s already past the morning sickness phase (though she gets hers in the evening). She tires more easily, too, but you’d barely know she was pregnant save for the fact she’s beginning to show just a little. That, and she abstains from that evening glass of wine she loves.

But I think the real reason it’s so different this time is because we’ve already been through this once. We have proof in the form of a jolly little monkey named Gus.

To be clear, this isn’t a commentary about being less excited the second time around. To the contrary, we’re both amazed and happy that our next child is in the oven, even as we’re scratching our heads about where the new baby will sleep (we have a two-bedroom condo and Gus is current on his rent for his room).

I think the difference this time is this: the fear is gone. Do we know how to feed a baby? Check. Do we know how to burp and change a baby? Check. Do we know what it’s like to wake up several times a night with a wailing infant? Check. Is there reason to think we can’t do all of this again with a new baby? Hell no.

We have a blueprint.

This morning I woke up with an analogy in my head, and it has to do with college. See, most people are extremely nervous and excited to attend their first year of higher education. There’s so much planning involved and, well, it’s all brand new. Will they fit in? Will they fail any classes? What about the exams? Will they miss their parents? Can they afford it? Where will they live? And so on.

And that first year is generally thrilling and scary and challenging and fun, and inevitably the new college student walks away feeling more “grown up.”

See where I’m going with this? Bixie and I feel more grown up having experienced the ups and downs of early parenthood. Sometimes it’s been frightening and hellish – like when the baby chokes on solid food or when he used to wake up every single hour during the night – but otherwise it’s been one of the truest and purest forms of joy we’ll ever know.

To me, “know” is the operative word. When a college freshman is gearing up for his sophomore year, it’s exciting but no longer scary. There’s not a frantic feeling pervading the second-year college student’s every thought. The ropes are known. The fear is diminished.

But the optimism remains high.

I remember being afraid, before we had Gus, that I might not be a good father. “What if something’s wrong with me and I don’t … love him enough?”

I remember being terrified about changing diapers. “Can I really do that? Sure, a couple of times – but ALL the time?”

I remember being afraid of being afraid.

Since having Gus, I now know that I can absolutely love a child with every atom in my body. I know that instincts kick in when logic fails. I know that I’ll make mistakes, but that the sun will still come up and beam warmth on my smiley boy’s face.

I know I can do it. WE know WE can do it together.

Yeah, it’s different this time.

It’s better.