Thursday morning before I had shaken the sleep from my eyes I received a texted picture on my phone of my new nephew. He looked VERY new, with red chubby cheeks and swollen eyes, bundled tightly in the ubiquitous hospital swaddling blankets. I cried because he was so beautiful.
Friday night I got to walk around a store for a long while holding a little three-month old baby girl. She snuggled into my shoulder and chewed her fingers, leaving a big drooly spot on my shirt. It felt WONDERFUL. When it was time to go, I almost forgot (on purpose) to give her back to her mom.
Saturday I visited my friend at the hospital and held her newborn daughter, a mere half-day old. I sat in the big rocker and snuggled her against me. She made little faces and yawned and gurgled and slept. Several times I won smiles (okay, probably just intestinal side-effects, but still, they looked smiley, so it counts). After carting around Silvia and Anna for so long, the weight of her felt wispy, dreamlike, in my arms.
Last night, I relaxed on the couch, my swollen calves propped up on pillows, to catch up on my DVR'd shows for a bit after the girls were in bed. I missed nearly the entire episode of Grey's Anatomy because I couldn't take my eyes off the bumps, punches and general movement visible against the skin of my belly. Every time I saw the shape of my stomach shift, I smiled and pushed right back. I found myself, (cheesy as it is), humming a little nonsense tune to see if it had any effect on the baby's movement.