When Lucy was placed on my chest seconds after breathing her very first breath ever, I remember the only emotion I felt was surprise. What? This is a baby! What is it doing here? What?! IT'S MINE?? And I cried. Mostly because of relief that I wouldn't have to push any more, a little because I was so exhausted, and some because OMG, I just pushed a BABY out of my belly!
And I LOVED her at that moment. Really, if you want to get technical, I loved her from the moment I knew she was in my belly somewhere, somehow. But at the hospital, I wondered, when is this baby's parents going to come pick her up? And I was surprised when the staff at the hospital was going to let me leave with this tiny person.
Home in those first weeks, I marveled at Lucy's every noise, every bodily function, every sleepy movement. But I still wasn't sure I had that miraculous Mommy Bond. I mean, I couldn't leave her without feeling physical pain, I felt the driving need to feed her and keep her clean and warm, but was I in love with her? The fairy tale (sigh) loooooove? I would categorize those feelings more along the lines of anxiety.
I think I just caught up with the love and twitterpation hard core in the last few weeks. Or maybe it has just slowly grown into what it is now. Now, I am completely enamored, girl-can-do-no-wrong, completely smitten with this baby. I find so much JOY in Lucy's facial expressions, in her figuring out how to use her hands, in her emerging sense of humor. I had no idea the amount of sheer adoration one could have, and I am often swept up in it. It just happened to take a little longer than immediately.
Lately, when she's done nursing, she'll play a game where she'll suck a few times and then make a suction noise while pulling back to look and me and smile. Then she'll go back, suck a few times and repeat until she gets tired of the game. It is so incredibly endearing and it makes me laugh out loud every time.
I lurve my baby. Who's all of 3 months old already!