Although we were dreading the conversation, it has been clear to 
both Scott and I that we needed to bring Robby up to date with the baby 
news. Wanting him to have a great holiday, we decided to put off the 
announcement until after Christmas. With a sonogram scheduled for this 
afternoon, yesterday it was decided that we would tell Robby about the 
baby.
I have spent the past few weeks researching the best, and most non-traumatic way, to relay this information to Robby. Relying upon the anonymity of my HotSpot VPN was paramount during these searches.  The last thing I wanted was for my search history to pop up in the form of advertisements when Robby was using the computer. After all, I wanted him to find out from us, not from my search history!
Seated on the couch next to his Daddy, I happily revealed that he is going to be a big brother. Obviously the chipper tone of my voice had little impact because my little guy's face melted as he absorbed the news. After several assurances that we were not joking, it became clear that Robby understood what we told him.
Seated on the couch next to his Daddy, I happily revealed that he is going to be a big brother. Obviously the chipper tone of my voice had little impact because my little guy's face melted as he absorbed the news. After several assurances that we were not joking, it became clear that Robby understood what we told him.
He didn't exactly 
leap off the couch and throw me in a bear hug, but I knew that reaction 
would be a long shot. He didn't smile nor did he demonstrate any of the 
enthusiasm I had hoped he would feel. Instead, he vaulted off the couch 
and sealed himself inside a box.  
Refusing
 to open the box, Robby requested a tissue. He insisted that he was fine
 and not crying, but claimed instead that his eye balls were sweating. I
 passed him the tissues, a cup of milk and a cookie. Not wanting to push
 him to talk, I just sat next to the box and waited.
After
 about 20 minutes of silence, I began quietly to reassure Robby. I 
reminded him that we would always love him, that we would still have 
special adventures and that the baby would not break his toys. He 
finally opened a crack so that I could see him. One-by-one, Robby 
recounted all of our special traditions, asking if we could still do 
them. He seemed to feel better knowing that the baby was not going to 
interfere with his life.
Okay, so basically I 
lied. But his tears stopped, and after an hour he finally emerged from 
the box. For now, simply knowing that there was going to be a baby seems
 like enough. I figured that we will have plenty of time to absorb the 
reality of our changed lives later.  
Throughout
 the day Robby asked questions about the baby. At one point he seemed 
delighted to have figured out a solution. "Momom, you should let Nana 
take the baby. She takes in lots of kids, I'm sure she won't mind one 
more." (Robby is referring to the fact that my sister and her three 
little ones have moved into my Mom's house.) I hated to burst his bubble
 for the second time in one day, but I did have to let him know that 
Nana would mind, and that we were not going to be giving the baby away.  
I
 wish I could write that Robby was delighted by the prospect of being a 
big brother. Unfortunately, that would be a lie. He has not tried to 
disguise his contempt for our news, proclaiming that we have given him 
the "worstest New Year present ever." He continued by saying that we 
"should have bought a turtle instead. Not a baby!"  Before going outside
 to play with his friend he whispered "I wish you weren't pregnant" as 
he was slipping on his boots. When he was cuddling with Scott last 
night, I overheard him asking his Daddy to promise that he "won't ever 
go and make another baby again." 
I keep trying
 to remind myself that he is just surprised, and that he will learn to 
embrace the change. Right now though, my heart is hurting.  So much for 
my Disney-esque ending to this story!


My mom and dad told me that I would have a little brother or sister to play with. I'm 8 years older than my little sister. When they brought her back from the hospital, she was about 8 lbs, and completely helpless.
ReplyDeleteI was absolutely incensed!
THIS wasn't "someone I could play with!" I was looking forward to teaching them about climbing trees, how to catch bugs, and making things with my Legos. THIS was a helpless grub of a human! Take her back! Get one that works!
Having said that, I came to love my little sister very much, and was very protective of her. I still am, 41 years later.
Good luck Robby!