Understanding Polygamy

I'm approaching 11 weeks pregnant. My stomach has started to round in a way that no amount of sucking in can hide. (Thank you, second-pregnancies-show-earlier.) And I have found my hands making their way to it, time and again, of their own accord, to sit and stroke. I have found myself imagining that tiny baby inside me, now with arms and legs and hands and feet and fingers and toes, now stretching and moving and waving, found myself smiling at it. Loving it.

And then I find myself feeling guilty.

I know what it is to love a child. To feel your heart grow beyond your body to consume you. I know what that special kind of love feels like, so very different from any other kind of love, so very unique. I know because I have a child, a precocious, funny, confident, loving, sweet daughter of 13 months, a child who has brought me more joy, more love, than I ever knew possible.

And now I'm feeling that love again. That special kind of love that only a mother and child can share. I find myself beginning to create that bond with another child, a new child, and I feel pangs of guilt. I learned that love with my daughter, and now I'm sharing that love with another.

I feel like I'm cheating on her.

I know about how love grows, not divides. About how my love for Dos will never impact my love for baby girl. And it's not that I feel like I'll love baby girl any less. It's just that it feels strange to be bonding with another child, when the only child I've ever loved this way is her.

And I guess that's what it's like for polygamists, no? Maybe I ought to cut them a little more slack.

Oh, and have I said this yet? Damn I love being pregnant.