I’d forgotten (until recently) how quickly one can fall in love with a newborn. And how deep the love can be.
So, needless to say, I’m thoroughly enjoying having a five-month-old in the house, especially once he started sleeping mostly through the night. (His timing couldn’t have been better either - right after we got home from a two-week vacation and right when I most needed the sleep!)
A happy, smiling, cooing baby who chews on his toes is a complete delight. (Aren’t I lucky?) I am completely in love with him - all 17 pounds and especially the chunky thighs.
I love the grunts he makes constantly. I love the way he bounces and bounces in his Johny Jump-Up. I love his chubby cheeks and toothless grin. I even think his sweaty feet are adorable. I don’t even mind getting up in the middle of the night to give him his pacifier so he’ll go back to sleep. I love that I have an excuse to have baby lotion in the house (one of my all-time favorite smells). I love how quickly he recognized me (and Dad and brothers!) I love little giggles when we do Pat-A-Cake and when I blow on his belly. I even love how he splashes water all over during his bath.
It seems the rest of the boys are equally as smitten. They have been fighting non-stop to sit next to him since we got a minivan. It got so bad we finally had to put an end to the wars by giving them seating assignments. Boy #1 lucked out and got the coveted spot. Boy #3 threw a fit (that was expected).
All three boys have so far, not tired of giving the baby his pacifier, talking to the baby, and trying to feed the baby Cheerios (you guessed it, Boy #3!)
But, once the hungry screams start, they will mostly skidaddle - love doesn’t cover ear-splitting shrieks that can only be stopped by food.
From what I can tell, this falling in love business appears to be quite common among the female gender. Maybe we’re genetically predisposed somehow to “suffer” from this condition.
I tend to think that’s been done on purpose.
If God meant for us to be saved through childbearing, it seems only natural that we would also be quite attached to the children we bear. (Even when they’re unbearable).
What is really interesting, though is that women also enjoy babies that aren’t their own. We flock around the newborns like they were made of chocolate. We get our “baby fixes” as often as possible. I’m not sure if holding a baby somehow reassures us that life is a gift, a blessing, and a miracle or if we simply are attracted to innocence.
Either way, I’ve been happy to indulge anyone who asks, “Can I hold him?” because I know how good it feels to cuddle a baby – especially when he smiles at you like you’re the most attractive and intelligent person in the world.
Life is good. How lucky we are that God allows us to enjoy it - and all those babies.
