Grudging Forgiveness

I bumped into this woman I know through one of my mother's groups. She is two weeks away from giving birth to her third child. We chatted briefly about our children. One of the issues that came up during our conversation was how my kids behaved prior to the imminent birth of their baby brother. After telling her of the difficulties that we'd encountered, and to some extent, still encounter, I had to stop and wonder whether or not those kinds of issues ever get resolved, forgiven and forgotten.

It's funny. Even though, we acknowledge to some extent, that the birth of a new child in the family may cause some negative feelings, we don't really allow for those feelings to last over a significant period of time. In the case of our youngest, the person who took the news the hardest was C, my step-daughter, who at the time of our announcement was on the brink of turning thirteen. In fact, she spent many months after that fact trying her darndest to show us just how pissed off and hurt she was. This went on quite blatantly until Jason was about six months of age, and then it either went underground, so to speak, or she learned to deal with it (or the horror of adolescence simply passed). Today, she fawns over him constantly, and thinks he's the cutest thing. In fact, she adores all three of my kids and is like a second mother to them.

My point is that, even though both R and I recognised that she wasn't happy about it, there was probably a part of us that didn't think she would hold out for as long as she did. At certain points in time, I think we both felt that enough was enough. The question is why shouldn't she have harboured those feelings for the remainder of her life, if she'd felt so inclined? She is the eldest, in fact, and therefore has a better knowledge of what was at stake more so than did any of her younger siblings.

Now, C is an extraordinary girl, so I think she somehow worked it all out on her own (and with some help and encouragement) and, probably, doesn't have too many residual feelings of anger and resentment over her little brother's birth. I don't think she represents the norm, however.

Our daughter, J, on the other hand, is quite another story. Although, ostensibly she appeared to be happy throughout the pregnancy and in the wake of her little brother's birth, I think she has never quite forgotten the injustice and injury of being usurped of her position as cute baby of the family.

As the baby so aptly pointed out the other day when announcing each family member's title, he is the cutest (with his older brother being the coolest and his sister J being the prettiest). His certainty in his cute status is unshakeable and unwavering. When questioned as to how he knew he was the cutest, his response was "because I'm the youngest".

Now, our daughter J is no dummy. She knew that everyone was making a big fuss over her new baby brother and so she constantly tried to stay in the limelight in one way or another. She continues to do so today. To some extent, she has a fairly good awareness of the intention behind her actions. When asked about why she sometimes abuses either of her brothers, she will say things like "J.R. (the older brother) used to like me a long time ago, but now he likes J.M. better". J.M., of course, both as baby and cutest child in the family, is fairly secure in his knowledge that the entire world loves him.

It's interesting though -- I am the baby of the family, the youngest of two kids. Would I say that I ever had the same feeling of security that J.M. has? Certainly, I didn't spend the majority of my life feeling secure and adored by any and all. But did I as a very young child?

I have to wonder if my older brother logged in any time feeling ripped off from his "beloved and wonderous child" status as a result of my birth. We've had moments during our childhood, and even during our adulthood, when we've vied for our parents' attention and approval. Is that the result of repressed childhood anger? It all sounds very Freudian, but I have to sometimes wonder how much of what we experience emotionally as adults, isn't simply the product of our early childhood? Do we simply run the 'feelings' train repeatedly over tracks laid down during that time frame?

My good friend suggested recently that we should all just "get over ourselves". He's right of course. But like most things in life, knowing something in theory isn't so easily translated in practice.