...as the big number two and all the T's that come with it (terrible, tough, talkative, tiring, terrific, tender, thrilling) grows ever nearer; I thought I'd share a defining moment of my journey as a mother with you. The moment Big met Little.

This single moment was one that I had looked towards with both excitement and trepidation. I was so nervous to see Big's reaction to "the baby". Her sex had been a surprise. He had made his thoughts on having a sister crystal clear- He wanted nothing to do with the idea, and had announced just weeks before her arrival that if "the baby" was a girl he was moving out (I think he read something similar in a book somewhere). Great, as though I hadn't spent the last few months worrying enough. I worried he'd feel resentful and misplaced. I wondered if he'd feel a connection to the baby, or understand that I could and DID love them both very much.

Then he saw her. He saw his little sister and he loved her. He wasn't going to move because she was a girl. He didn't even think of all that silly stuff I had spent sleepless nights fretting over. He was her Kuya. He loved her the moment he laid eyes on her. When we placed Little in his arms I was finally able to exhale. Worry melted away, and a sigh of complete contentment left my lips. I felt so blessed...the moment Big met Little.