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You May Not Recall, But I Will
Updated: Aug. 17, 2023
Originally Published: Aug. 17, 2021
“They won’t remember life before their sibling,” people often remind me as I wrestle with the guilt of transitioning from a one-child household. “To them, it will always be this way.” Their words hold a certain comfort, especially during those quiet moments when I feel a wave of nostalgia crash over me. Yet, the reality that you won’t recall the cherished time we shared before your brother arrived is a truth I grapple with even more than the impending changes.
Yes, it’s true: You won’t remember.
You won’t recall the early moments when we first learned the rhythm of being a duo. I still remember that day vividly—when your dad drove away to work, and I held you close, overwhelmed and teary-eyed, unsure of how I would manage the long hours alone with you, my tiny bundle of joy.
In time, we found our rhythm, you and I. We created a world filled with adventure—stroller strolls, sunny picnics, trips to the aquarium, and playdates with new friends. You won’t remember those blissful, lazy days spent in our pajamas, indulging in pancakes while we cozied up on the couch watching cartoons until the afternoon melted away.
You won’t recall how adored you were—our first baby, the pride of your grandparents, the first to smile, crawl, and walk as we cheered you on with excitement, capturing your gummy grins in countless photos. You won’t remember that for 17 whole months, all the toys, books, and clothes were yours alone, free from the need to share.
You will never know the profound impact you had on me—you were the one who transformed me into a mother, gifting me the most rewarding, life-changing role imaginable. The moment you entered the world, your little cries filling the room, I fell in love with a depth I never thought possible.
Thankfully, you also won’t remember the learning curve of new motherhood and my many missteps. Like that time I forgot to pack a spare outfit, and you had to head home in just a diaper, snowflakes still dancing outside. Or the day I overlooked your special swim class with your dad, the very last day you were our only child. I know there were moments of impatience and distractions, but those will fade away into your untroubled memory.
You won’t remember these past 18 months, and in some ways, that’s a relief. You will grow up without the weight of jealousy, blissfully unaware of life before your brother, the little guy who now shares your toys and our attention. It’s true—there was a method to my madness when we decided to expand our family so closely together, even if guilt sometimes clouds my view.
You won’t hold onto memories from the time before your brother’s arrival. It’s a fresh start for our family of four. But I will. I will remember every delightful moment for both of us.
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In summary, while you may not remember the special moments shared before your brother’s arrival, I will cherish them forever. Your early days as an only child were filled with love, laughter, and countless adventures that shaped our bond.