Dealing With the Unexpected Guilt of Having a Second Child
As I walked into our home with our precious newborn daughter for the first time, I was nervous for my son and daughter to meet. I had been anticipating this moment for months. My wife and I did our best to explain to our son that his sister was going to be a new addition to the family. Having a second child was a big deal for us. Both my wife and I are only children, and did not know what it was like to have a sibling. I was excited to grow our family, but never contemplated what would happen to me. Of all the emotions and feelings I expected, crippling guilt was not one of them.
I will never forget the feeling when my son greeted me in the hallway. My son looked at me, then at his sister, who I was carrying in her car seat carrier – he seemed more curious than anything. For me, instead of the gleeful excitement I had imagined, I felt a sense of guilt. It was instant. And not just guilt, but also dread – it was visceral. I looked at my son and thought, “What have I done?” I panicked inside. I felt guilty my son was watching me carry his sister. Did he think he was being replaced? Was I taking away his spotlight? Did I inadvertently disrupt the blissful world he had known as the only child? I tried to pretend everything was okay. It was not – not for me.
Later that day, I was changing my daughter, and my son came into our room. He asked me to come play with him. I couldn’t. And I felt horrible. The reality of having two children hit me. A deep sense of regret came over me. My heart hurt. Little did I know, this was the start of a downward mental spiral.
Suffering Alone With the Guilt
Over the next nine months, I found myself grappling with the emotional weight of guilt. Every time I got up to feed my daughter or change her, I would think, “What have I done, I ruined our family.” This is hard to admit, but I had a sense of resentment toward my daughter. I remember on numerous occasions, standing over her crib, looking at her and feeling shame. Here I was, one of the luckiest people on earth – I had two healthy children, and instead of cherishing my daughter, I was feeling pain, guilt, and regret.
Trying to balance the needs of two little ones equally seemed like an insurmountable task, and I continued to question whether I had made the right choice. I had never experienced mental health issues before. If I was awake, I was feeling guilt and regret. Each night, as I lay down to sleep, the echoes of self-doubt whispered in my ear. I woke up from sleep at night worrying about how I ruined my son’s life. However, I just kept this all bottled up inside and pretended things were great.
I felt a cringe every time someone complimented me about my daughter. Family members, friends, and strangers would tell me how wonderful my daughter was and how lucky I was. I would smile and say “thank you.” But inside, I wanted to scream. I wanted to go back in time. But it was too late.
The irony here is my wife cautioned me that things would change when we had another child. I couldn’t stop thinking about her words of caution. She specifically warned me that when we had another child, our son would be impacted. I didn’t understand – or want to understand – the severity of what she was saying. My view was, a second child would be a blessing and everything would be fine.
I just kept thinking my wife was right, and the realization was now hitting me. I finally understood. My son would now have to share everything with his sister, including our time, our energy, and our money. I was not okay. I knew I was not okay, but I could not get past my thoughts.
Did I share my thoughts or feelings with anyone? At first, no. I was too embarrassed. I made the choice to have another child, and here I was regretting my actions. I felt ashamed. To make me feel even worse, my daughter was amazing. She slept through the night, she ate well, and almost never cried. She was always smiling. How could I resent her – she did nothing to deserve this. I hated myself. This was the first time I felt I was struggling with a mental health issue. I knew something was very wrong, but I could not fix it.
Breaking Free
It took me about nine months before I brought up my issues to my therapist. I told him about the intrusive thoughts of guilt, shame, and regret. I won’t go into the details, but he helped me put things in perspective and look at my situation differently. He reminded me, I did get exactly what I wanted. He helped a lot. But, to be quite honest, it was not him who snapped me out of it. Looking back, I don’t think anyone could have completely resolved my issues. It was a process. And, it felt good to voice what I was experiencing and try to work through it.
Amidst the struggle, a gradual transformation took place within me. As I spent more time with my daughter, I began to recognize the unique joys she brought into our lives. It was an adjustment period. It seemed to take a long time for me to adjust to the addition to our family. I am not sure when it happened, but the intrusive thoughts started to dissipate. I don’t remember when I was finally free of my guilt, but it happened.
My children make me happy. Both of them, equally. We go to the park together. We play outside together. When we play in the bedroom, we all play together. It is normal and natural. My heart melts when Sam hugs Olivia.
I can’t imagine our family without Olivia.
Having both our children jump in our bed on weekend mornings is a delight. Reading to my children at night and looking at them as they are both asleep is a blessing. Every single day, I am aware that this won’t last forever. I am cherishing every second I have with each of them.
My daughter is almost two now and we do things together – just the two of us. I love it. I no longer see spending time with my daughter as taking away something from my son.
What I Learned
I have not been able to figure out why I reacted the way I did. It may have been that I spent so much time with my son during COVID that we grew exceptionally close. He was about one year and two months old when COVID got underway. We spent every day together. I know COVID was hard on many families. In my mind, it was a good period. We moved close to my parents and got a bigger place to live. I was able to work from home and spend every day with my wife and son. I took my son out every day for a walk around noon, and after work, we would go to the park to play with the ball. It was a very simple and happy time for us. I don’t recall the pandemic being a stressful period of time for me. On the other hand, maybe it was stressful and I was in denial. Maybe all that stress surrounding COVID was released with a triggering life change?
With all that said, I will never know why I went to such a dark place. So many of the thoughts I had were overblown and not based in reality. The worst part was knowing my thoughts made no sense, yet I could not break free from them. I know, I will never get to the answer of “why.”
Breaking free from the guilt was not an overnight process. It required introspection, open communication with a specialist, and a conscious effort to redefine my expectations. Slowly but surely, the guilt dissipated, making way for a newfound sense of completeness and happiness within our family.
One thing I did take away from this is that mental health issues are very real. I can’t tell you how many times someone asked me how I was doing while I was deeply struggling. My response always was, “I am fine.” If I ever have a similar situation in the future, I will get help sooner. There is no excuse to just say “I am fine.”
I am not the only one who has experienced guilt after a second child is born. However, I wish there was a more open dialogue about parenting and mental health. Being a parent is a great joy and comes with its own set of challenges. I hope this will help anyone struggling with any type of mental health issue to know he or she is not alone. Asking for help is okay.