I have to admit that I was really worried about bonding with this baby.
It helps that I feel my most alive when I am the sole person sustaining another life.
It helps that I adore newborns to tears. Especially my newborns.
It’s not fair how quickly they grow out of being newborns. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little people they become. But watching those little cheeks plump out and packing away that first stack of too-small newborn clothes always puts me into panic mode. It makes me wish I could keep my babies that small forever. And the panic of them growing up too fast seems to get worse with each child.
Right when I have a newborn is when baby fever hits the most for me. Not that the newborn I am holding isn’t enough…quite the contrary. That new baby fills my heart to the very brim. But the thought of my little Crew being the last newborn I’ll ever bring home from the hospital makes me feel like I just got kicked in the stomach. I never ever want to be pregnant again, but I can’t imagine that this is the last time I’ll have a newborn nuzzled tightly against me with his perfect smell and tiny chest rapidly rising and falling.