I was the little girl in your ward who wanted to hold all the babies instead of listening to the Beehive lessons. I was the girl who stayed late after church because I was having too much fun playing with the cute little toddlers. I always bee-lined straight to any new mom and asked to hold her baby. I still remember some of my favorite babies and am kind of shocked that they are probably about 17 now.
And then I had my own babies, and all the other ones paled in comparison. They were cute, sure, but the glow had gone off them and landed on my own. My own babies were so perfect that no other babies could compare. I still marvel at the fact that I have been given the four most perfect, most adorable, and most incredible babies ever.
The funny thing is, though, I had forgotten how much I loved babies until about a month ago. There is no specific point in time that I can remember, but all of the sudden I remembered how much I love having a little baby of my own. It came to me right about the point that Viola started only wanting me. I would hand her over to a well-meaning person and Viola would immediately start to wail. Grandma Rhynard took one look at her and Viola lost it. Eleanor, my poor, sweet, oblivious little Eleanor, loves nothing more than to hold Viola, but Viola Will. Not. Stand. For. It. Every time Eleanor holds her, Viola starts to screech, and nothing will placate her but for me to pick her up. Matt will sometimes do, but not always. As much as I want some personal space, nothing warms my heart more than my little girl reaching for me and grinning when I take her. When I hold her in my lap, she will turn her head upward to make sure I'm there, grin at me, and then reach up to touch my face as if she needs to check one more time it's me. She loves to grab my face and pull it close and get me as close to her as humanly possible. She loves to nuzzle my shoulder for comfort and breathe deep into the crook of my neck as if she has to inhale every little scent I have.
And I can't believe how much I had forgotten how great it is. She has gone from a screechy little baby whose default setting was "grumpy" to "blissfully happy as long as mama is holding me". I had forgotten how nice it is to get those huge grins that are reserved only for me. As a friend of mine put it yesterday, "it's so nice to be smitten."
And I'm amazed (again) at how my capacity for love has grown. I love my children intensely and primally. My love for my children is so unconditional and so strong that when another child joins our family I am always surprised that I have the ability to love another one in exactly the same way. I would have thought that with such strong love that I would reach maximum capacity at some point, but it hasn't happened yet. I heard once that with each child you have, you grow another heart, which is completely cheesy and goes against everything I stand for, but yet still describes perfectly how it feels. Before Eleanor was born I honestly didn't believe that I could love another child as much as I loved Peter and secretly pitied her, but then she was born and I was completely blown away at much I suddenly and completely loved her.
And now I have my Viola, and I should know better and not be surprised, but here I am. I am surprised at how much I physically crave my daughter, at how much I enjoy snuggling her during her nightly nursings, at how much I love that chubby little bum of hers, and how my heart really aches with love for her (I'm pretty sure that's a song lyric, but I can't place it).
I love all of my children to a degree that they will never understand until they have children of their own.
Oh, you want some pictures? And that's why you only come to my blog anyway? Fine. Geez.
One more photo session of Viola in her coming-home-from-the-birthing-center outfit before she physically bursts out of it:
"Oooh, hand!"
And, sneeze.
The first and the last.
2 comments:
Jocelyn, you made me cry. That was very sweet. I hope you print that and put it in your children's journals.
So sweet, Jocelyn.
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