Loving two at a time
Learning to Share Your Heart: Loving a Newborn and a Toddler at the Same Time
Bringing a new baby home is often described as magical. And it is.
But when you already have a toddler, it can also be confusing, emotional, and quietly overwhelming.
Before the newborn arrives, your toddler has been your whole world. Every cuddle, every bedtime routine, every meltdown and milestone has revolved around them. Then suddenly, there is a tiny new person with urgent needs—needs that don’t wait, don’t reason, and don’t pause.
Many parents worry about this moment long before it happens:
How do I give enough attention to both?
Will my toddler feel replaced?
What if someone always ends up waiting?
My own personal experience so far is the worries in the hospital, when your husband is back at home with your toddler who’s been crying “Where’s mommy?” The hospital room is very quiet, with nurses coming in and out to see how things are with the newborn, with you.. but you worry how your toddler is.
These worries are not a sign of failure. They are a sign of deep love.
Two Children, Two Very Different Needs
A newborn’s needs are immediate and physical. They cry because something is required right now—food, comfort, warmth, closeness. There’s no explanation you can give them, no compromise you can make.
A toddler’s needs, on the other hand, are emotional and developmental. They may not need you in the same urgent way, but they feel the change deeply. They notice when routines shift, when arms are busy, when attention is divided. Their big feelings often show up as regression, tantrums, clinginess, or testing boundaries.
It can feel like you’re constantly choosing who needs you more in that moment—when the truth is, they both do.
The Guilt That Sneaks In
Many parents feel guilt in both directions.
When you’re feeding or soothing the baby, you might see your toddler waiting, watching, or acting out—and your heart sinks. Mine has a few times already.
When you’re focused on your toddler, you might hear the newborn crying and feel pulled in the opposite direction. “Come play with me” while nursing, I find myself sitting on his matted floor building lego robots with one hand, and nursing the baby with the other arm.
This constant tug-of-war can make you feel like you’re always falling short. But love is not measured in perfectly balanced minutes. Children don’t need equal attention—they need secure attachment, consistency, and reassurance.
And I’m learning those things can exist even in imperfect moments.
What Toddlers Really Need During This Transition
Toddlers don’t need you to stop caring for the baby. They need to know they still matter.
Small things make a big difference:
Naming their feelings out loud (“It’s hard to wait while I feed the baby.”)
Giving them simple choices when you can
Inviting them to help in age-appropriate ways
Protecting small, predictable moments that are just for them
Even a few uninterrupted minutes of connection can refill a toddler’s emotional cup far more than hours of distracted time.
What Newborns Really Need
Newborns need safety, warmth, and responsiveness—not perfection.
They don’t need elaborate schedules or constant stimulation. They need a caregiver who responds consistently, even if sometimes that response is a few moments delayed because another child needs help too.
Babies are incredibly adaptable. They grow secure not because every cry is answered instantly, but because they learn they are cared for.
You Are Not Dividing Love—You Are Expanding It
One of the most surprising things I am discovering is that love doesn’t split in two—it grows.
Your toddler learns empathy, patience, and connection by watching us care for the baby.
Your newborn grows up seeing warmth, play, and sibling bonds from the very beginning.
And you, even on the hardest days, are doing something extraordinary: teaching two small humans that love can exist in many places at once.
Give Yourself Grace
There will be messy days. Loud days. Days where everyone cries—including you.
That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
It means you’re human, navigating a season that is demanding, tender, and temporary.
You don’t have to be perfectly present all the time.
You just have to keep showing up.
And that—is enough.
