Lately, I’ve watched friends and family expand their families, often moving from one child to two. We frequently celebrate the miracle of a first child, but rarely do we discuss the profound wonder of welcoming additional children. In conversations with both mothers and fathers, a common fear emerges: they worry that they could never love a second child quite as deeply as their first or struggle to imagine dividing their love equally between two. I felt this same fear myself, just before giving birth to my second son.
Having your first child is a transformative, almost surreal experience. For women, the moment that the pregnancy test turns positive, their world shifts. Life becomes less about you and entirely about the tiny human growing inside. You obsess over every bite of food, every movement, your sleep, your work-everything changes. For men, this shift often occurs when they witness their wife giving birth to their child. Their role transforms into providing for their family, and their admiration for their wife deepens; this new life becomes the driving force behind their purpose. The change is so profound, so all-consuming, it feels impossible to imagine life before this child who now holds your entire world.
So, when you’ve experienced that seismic shift, the idea of feeling it again with a second child seems almost unthinkable. How could another child move you as profoundly as the first, when that experience was so novel and miraculous? To my friends upgrading from one to two, I tell them just how amazed they will be at how those initial feelings resurface, how your heart grows a new space for this next child, it doesn’t divide the heart in half, it multiplies it. Even more miraculous is watching your first child, the one who originally reshaped your world, step into the role of older sibling. Seeing your heart double in size and witnessing your eldest discover a love they’ve never known before is nothing short of extraordinary.
Before my second son arrived, I was terrified about how my oldest would cope. He would have less of our attention, there would be days when I would need to lean on him to help with his brother, moments of shushing him while the baby napped, or disruptions to his bedtime and bath routine. But when our second boy came, I realized I’d given my oldest an incredible gift: a best friend, someone who will always look up to him, a sense of purpose as an older and wiser big brother. He loved helping with baby chores, kissing his little brother’s toes, and singing him songs from school. And during his one-on-one time with me or my husband, he cherished it more deeply than when it was just the three of us. On the flip side, I gave this second child the gift of an older sibling-someone to show him the way and have his back when he needed it.
A parent’s love is boundless, expanding infinitely for each child. Even on days when my boys are driving me up the wall, I find myself late at night, curled up in bed, scrolling through photos and videos of them. Sometimes I go all the way back to their baby days. Looking at old pictures of my husband and me before kids is almost comical. We were just kids ourselves, wide-eyed with no clue how profoundly our lives would change, how each child would reshape who we are both individually and as a couple. Now, photos of just the two of us feel incomplete, even ones with just us and our first son. But when I see an image of all four of us
together, I think, “That’s it. That’s the full heart of who we are.” I imagine every family feels this wholeness once their family is complete.
My boys are still young, ages seven and nine, and our family continues to evolve daily, shaping how we navigate the world together and as individuals. Birth order will influence their lives, just as it did for me and my sister, but it’s a delightful quirk they’ll come to cherish both in themselves and each other. I’ve often compared life without children to a slightly deflated balloon: it may float, but it doesn’t soar. Each child, in their own unique way, fills that balloon with air, lifting it to heights you never imagined possible. So, don’t fear adding another child.
Each one multiplies the joy, deepens the connections, and brings miracles you never could have imagined.