The arrival of both my first and third children was a highly anticipated event. Our same obstetrician was present for both births, and each child entered the world with their own unique flair — bald, cone-headed, and vocally demanding. They latched on with gusto, making those early moments smooth and joyful.
However, my middle child, Leo, had a very different entrance. He was born in a whirlwind four hours and will forever be known as the baby who almost made his debut in a local diner. With a tuft of dark hair and a calm demeanor, he took his time finding his rhythm.
Let’s set the record straight: I love all my children equally. But, and there’s always a “but,” I don’t love them all in the same way.
Spending time with my eldest and youngest is often more enjoyable, especially with my firstborn. It’s not that I don’t try to bond with Leo; it just feels much more effortless with the others.
Max: The Conversationalist
I suspect I’m not the only one who feels this way. My oldest, Max, is a conversationalist with a curious mind. He delves into topics that intrigue both of us. Now that he’s able to read, he devours books on subjects I’m not even familiar with — like the historical significance of ancient civilizations or the nuances of space exploration. Our discussions are meaningful, and I confide in him about personal challenges, such as mental health and navigating life with ADHD. He’s a fascinating kid, the type with whom a solid rapport is easy to establish.
Max is also full of opinions. While shopping, he’ll help me decide which items to purchase, express his desire to skip the toy aisle without throwing a tantrum, and suggest alternatives, like books instead. He engages me with questions about what I’m working on, genuinely interested in my projects. Max is simply delightful, making it easy to connect. Many parents probably have a child like this; one who effortlessly draws you in.
Finn: The Little Star
Then there’s my youngest, my little star, Finn. Barely four years old, he sports a mop of golden hair and a sweet voice that calls out, “I’m hungry, Mommy” or “I love you, Mommy.” His need for cuddles is magnetic, and I cherish each moment we snuggle together. There’s a special magic to being the baby of the family — a warmth that fills the heart. If you have more than one child, you know that the youngest often holds a special place, being the easiest to hold close.
Finn creates elaborate sticker art for his parents, each piece accompanied by a tale only he can weave. His collection of stuffed animals rivals that of a small zoo, and I find joy in dressing him up and showering him with affection. Loving this little one feels effortless, especially in these early years.
Leo: The Unique One
Then there’s Leo. He’s passionate about many things — like the color black. Though I try to embrace his unique style, it often means he opts for the darkest clothing available. Leo also loves animals, which is endearing, but his fascination extends to the less cuddly ones. Currently, he’s diligently tending to his worm farm, which resides under our kitchen table. I find it hard to pretend to be excited about worms, yet I indulge him. As spring approaches, his obsession will likely shift to catching frogs and toads.
Leo’s engagement style leans more towards endless questions rather than conversation. His inquiries often revolve around “when” and “how long,” which can be overwhelming. I strive to manage my reactions, reminding myself that he seeks connection, yet I occasionally snap. We just don’t click as effortlessly as I do with Max and Finn.
Leo can also be quite challenging. He prefers his Spinosaurus shirt over anything I choose for him and insists on wearing short pajamas in freezing weather. I genuinely try to take an interest in what he loves, answering his questions with patience and making an effort to engage with his interests. I defend his obsession with giant salamanders and treasure the rare moments we spend cuddled up together. These moments feel precious because of the distance between us. I strive to show him love, hoping he feels it.
Yet, it’s undeniably more difficult with Leo than it is with my other two. I love them all equally, but my connection with Max and Finn feels more natural and enjoyable. I often reflect on the moments of Leo as a baby, the one who’s uniquely himself, unbothered by anyone’s expectations. However, when it comes to my day-to-day favorites, I find myself gravitating toward my oldest and youngest simply because it’s easier.
But my love for Leo is real, albeit tinged with guilt. Watching him enjoy breakfast or wear his favorite Hamilton shirt brings me to tears. Sweet boy, I love you just as much as your brothers.
It’s a difficult truth to admit. If you relate to this struggle, you’re not alone. For those on a similar journey, you may find insightful resources on pregnancy and home insemination at NHS, and for couples navigating their fertility journey, check out Make a Mom.
In summary, while I love all my children, the ease of connection varies. My oldest and youngest naturally draw me in, while my middle child requires more effort, yet he remains deeply cherished.