He finally arrived, our little Eamon Joseph, and I’m feeling…pretty good. I was preparing to face an onslaught of hormones, sleeplessness, stress and mayhem in these early infant days. And the onslaught has come. But somehow I’m still…ok.
I’m surprised, and to tell you the truth, a little bit skeptical. I keep waiting to collapse. But I haven’t yet. Maybe it’s because I’ve finally learned that in the face of an onslaught sometimes the best response is surrender. It’s not any easier, but I’ve accepted that it’s not easy. And in letting the hard parts in – the exhaustion, frazzled moments, messes, boxed macaroni and cheese dinners (or even, sometimes, peanut butter and jelly dinners) – you also let in all the good stuff.
I’ve been able to love this little boy with more abandon and less anxiety than either of my other children. I don’t love him any more than my older ones. I’ve just been able to love him more freely, earlier. And for that I am so grateful. Because it’s true what they say – they do grow up so fast. And I am soaking in every second of babyhood Eamon can give me. The baby smell, the velvety hair, the tiny fingers, toes and nails. Even the lonely intimacy of night nursings. Sappy, I know. But if you have children, you understand how precious these things are. And if you don’t, oh, just wait until you do.