Calvin's twin sister Georgia is growing too fast for my liking. She's filled out into a beautiful baby, I can't get enough of nibbling on her rolls of sweet babyfat, kissing her soft downy head. Tonight as I laid her down on our bed to change her before her bottle, as she looked up at me with her beautiful blue/grey eyes, smiling away, I felt a stab of pain in my heart, picturing what Calvin would look like now if he were there lying beside her. I know he'd be smaller than her, but I'm sure he'd be just as wonderfully filled out and chubby like she is. If there's something that can be said about my mothering, it's that I am very good at bottling my babies. I wish I could have nursed Georgia longer, or that I had the chance to nurse Calvin before he died, but it wasn't possible with my next-to-nothing milk supply and needing to get onto some anti-depressants before plunging into the hell of post-partum.
I wish I could keep Georgia in this moment of her babyhood. It's the time I loved most about Lorelei too, when the babies are becoming more and more interactive, sleep through the nights, but still rely on mom and dad for everything. Georgia has my heart in a different way than Lorelei did. Being my first, I never thought I could love another child the way I loved Lorelei, my love was deep and ferociously protective of my first born. With Georgia, it's softer, quieter, and richer in a lot of ways. Richer because of the experience of carrying her with Calvin, she is forever connected with him. Calvin was conceived a day or two before Georgia so he was there from the moment of her creation. She is much more demanding of my physical affection than Lorelei ever was. I'm sure it's because she came into being sharing my womb, her personal space with her brother, pressed up against him, touching and kicking inside me. Maybe it's because I know what she has also lost, that she too must feel his absence. Whatever the reason my love for her shines from a different place, it shines nonetheless and warms the parts of me that died with Calvin. Her eyes hold secrets from deep within her, my friend Ginger says Georgia is an old soul. I feel it too. It's like in a way she is wizened, this beautiful baby of mine, like she came from another place to live in her body and to carry with her sprinklings of the past. Maybe it's in the way she stares intently over my shoulder or up at the ceiling, suddenly laughing or smiling that makes me feel she has a gift, a special secret inside, that maybe she can see him. I often wonder if Calvin's spirit is with us, if his connection with Georgia is too strong for even death. I tell her all the time to tell Calvin we love him...maybe one day she'll tell me he loves me too.