“Are you going to love the baby more than you love me?” I asked jealously, my pregnant belly creating a deep valley between our bodies.

“Of course not,” he said. “Not more. Not less either. Probably the same or maybe…I’ll just love the baby differently.”

Was I serious? Was I really worried that my husband would love our child more than he loves me? Not really.

Okay, yes. Maybe a little.

A big part of me posed the question to be cute and feel girlie. In my whale-like state, I needed to hear him say “of course not, I would never love anyone as much as you.” But I also had these visions of the baby usurping my role. Stealing my hugs and kisses. Getting all the attention I so rightly deserved. After all, without me, there would be no baby.

I imagined my husband coming home from work, blinders on like a racehorse headed straight for the child, while I slowly turned into chopped liver in a corner.

Irrational, I know.

Can I chalk it up to pregnancy hormones instead of blind selfishness and egocentrism?

****

After Luki was born, I was too busy dodging poop missiles to give jealousy the time of day.

I really hadn’t given any thought to my pregnant delusions until this morning, when I opened my eyes and found Ton Ton and Luki spooning.

There he was. The baby placidly sleeping in my special spot, inside the concave line of his dad’s body. And, just like he does to me, Ton Ton was caressing our son’s shoulders, gently kissing the back of his neck.

As I faced this sight, this appropriation of my space and my caresses, I was surprised to find that I did not feel jealous at all. Instead, I felt loved. More loved than ever before. It’s like all the love Ton Ton gives to Luki, he gives to me as well.

Love by association.

****

“Are you going to love the baby more than you love me?”

Today I realize that the correct answer to the question is “Absolutely. Of course. Yes!”

Because the only way to love me properly is to love our son more and more each day.