My Babies

I am falling.

So fast and deep, it feels like I'm living in quicksand.

Only this isn't death. It's love.

This might be one of my favorite things about a new baby. The chance to fall in love again.

This past week, I've done little but gaze at that sweet little boy.

I don't know him yet, but I'm already smitten.

And in a small way, I'm reaching back through time, to love all my babies through this final newborn. They all looked like this when they were fresh from the womb -- ruddy skinned, almond eyed, topped by a head of thick dark hair.

Natalie

Connor

Teyla

Kieran

Of course, they don't stay that way. Natalie's skin retained the olive glow of her father and her hair lightened only subtly. Connor and Teyla grew to have the fair complexion and lighter hair of my Irish ancestors. And each of them has their own unique color of eyes.

They've changed so much, they bear little resemblance today to the tiny babies they once were.





But in a momma's heart, the present child and the past infant live simultaneously. Maybe that's why our hearts ache a little more with each passing year -- because it has to expand to hold more and more of our children, in both their past and present tenses.

So today, I will kiss Kieran's sweet head and kiss the head of all my children. I will hold his little hands and remember the beginning of each story. I will settle my nose into his hair or his tummy or his neck and inhale the most precious aroma on earth.

My babies.