Another post to write about my feelings. Here it goes: I had always feared how I could love another child like I did your brother. The cliche of a mother having endless love for all her children did prove to be true though - your birth was sudden, early and quick and it epitomized the notion of "love at first sight" to the dot. We thought you would be a brunette at first because the little hair you had was brown, and you had (and still do have) the darkest eyes I have ever seen - yet they seem to sparkle extraordinarily.
The myth of a second child being easier faded as I struggled with finding time for your very basic needs and those of your brother, who was just a toddler when you were born. I tried to love you the most when your brother was around so he could learn how to love another, and it seemed to work. As we always tell him, you were, and still are, awed by Arda, from the moment you opened your eyes. I know that is a good thing - you love him and you want to be like him, but you as yourself is precious and cherished just the way you are.
The guilt that I carry about not taking you to the park as many times as I've taken your brother, or not spending as much time as I did with your brother and many such worries seems to wane when I look at you and see what a great fabulous incredible wonderful child you have grown into.The way you don't give up, the way you try to do everything by yourself without any help, the way you sing made up songs with terrible four letter words and the way you force yourself to step right moves me - believe me that everything about is truly beloved.
Happy birthday baby, Tunca, the baby of the world. I love you.
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