Permanent Markers

When Eliza's birth was fast approaching, I spent a lot of time thinking about how the addition of a second child would feel. My biggest concern, after all the usual late-night-Google-self-diagnosing of possible temperament challenges and birth defects that ran rampant late in my pregnancy, was that Eliza and her new-babyness would somehow usurp my memories of baby Zoe. This felt particularly possible because they're both girls. I would be putting Eliza to sleep in Zoe's pack n- play and then her crib. I would be dressing Eliza in Zoe's clothes, wrapping her in the fabric pieces of her sister's babyhood.

What I know now is that my memories of Eliza do not erase my memories of baby Zoe, even as she lies in the same crib, wearing the same clothes. If anything, watching Eliza grow and change brings Zoe's babyhood all back to me in tangible, clear-as-day visions. I see Ellie in a onesie that I chose for Zoe before there was even a proto-Zoe and I remember my joy when putting Zoe in it for the first time.

Zoe, June 2006

Eliza, July 2009

I put Eliza on her tummy in her crib in a favorite onesie and I remember one of my favorite pictures of Zoe and rush to take a matching one of Eliza.

Zoe, Sept. 2006.

Eliza, Sept. 2009 (E modestly covers her cleavage.)

My girls' unique selves, their lovely differences, are inescapable already and no amount of hand-me-down wearing can change that. Eliza gives me the gift of remembering my favorite moments of Zoe's infancy on a daily basis.

My memories of each will have permanent markings on my mind. One cannot erase the other and I'm so glad that's true.