It was just a matter of time. The other shoe has dropped and it doesn’t feel very good: the reality of Sonya is settling in and my daughter is having some difficulty adjusting to this sea change in her life.

My daughter has spent much of the past year looking forward to Sonya’s arrival. Even before my sister got the referral from the orphanage in Perm, Russia, my daughter has been looking forward to her new cousin.

Once we got the photos, though, my daughter really attached to her. Big time. She lovingly named her Ducky because the receiving blanket she was photographed in had little ducks pictured on it.

After my sister’s first trip to Russia, we had pictures of Sonya in the orphanage and that’s when the longing for Sonya began. From May through the end of August, my daughter  couldn’t pass a clothing or toy shop without wanting to buy something for Sonya.

When my sister, her husband and Sonya returned to Brooklyn from Russia on August 28thit was almost unbearable to remain on vacation in California until August 30th so desperate were we all to meet Sonya. Particularly my daughter, who was chanting: "I want to see Ducky. I want to see Ducky." the whole time.

And it was love at first sight. From the moment they laid eyes on one another, Sonya and my daughter really hit it off. That very first night they met, my daughter was in Sonya’s crib, snuggling up with her and kissing her big cheeks. My daughter delighted in feeding her, pushing her in her stroller, giving Sonya her sippy-cup. They’ve already spent countless hours in the Third Street Playground and on the streets of Seventh Avenue.

I asked my  sister yesterday, "So how do you like having two kids?"

Well, the other shoe has dropped: My daughter has discovered the flip side of a new baby in the family. It sucks the attention right out of a room. "Oh she’s so cute!" "She’s adorable!" "She looks like she’s been here forever." "Look at those cheeks."

You get the idea.

But the worst part is this: my daughter feels like she’s been replaced. Her beloved aunt now has her own child and for my daughter it feels like hell. Granted, my sister probably spoiled the be-jesus out of my daughter. And she continues to shower her with attention and compliments on her being such a great cousin. But for a sensitive young 8-year old, it feels like she’s out and the new kid is in.

It hit hard today. The baby scratched my daughter’s eyelid by accident. Very, very lightly. Apparently nobody noticed. "And you were staring right at me," my daughter cried. But we sure did notice when my daughter punched Sonya’s little foot. "What are you doing?" my sister shouted with barely concealed anger.

My daughter walked away in a huff and it took hours for her to calm down.  "Nobody cared that the baby scratched me. Nobody cares about me anymore!" She’s very angry right now and full of pain. She told my sister, "I had to blow my nose twelve times because I was crying so much."

I remember when my daughter was born in 1997. On the third or fourth day of her life, my son, who was then five and a half, called me on the phone (from another room in the apartment) and shouted "I hate you!" and hung up. He called again a moment later: "I love you!" slam. These alternating cries of love and hate  continued for about twenty calls. It was hugely painful but also deeply understandable.

It’s an earth shattering event when a new baby comes into a family and it brings about a complete realignment of relationships. I know my daughter will adjust to her new cousin and adjust to the fact that she’s not the youngest person in the family anymore. She will eventually learn that there’s more than enough love to go around.

More than enough. But for now, her pain is real. And we can all relate to that jealousy and that hurt; that sense that we’ve been pushed away in favor of someone new. It may not be rational but boy is it real.