On Saturday, one of my best friends gave birth to her first child, a baby boy. Ashley and her husband Chris are like family to me, so the whole event was incredibly special. I kept joking that the baby was holding off for me, as I was home for the long weekend and could therefore visit them both in the hospital (he was actually supposed to be born early last week!)
Yesterday, it dawned on me that this little guy is the first baby I've visited in the hospital since my brother Joey was born in 1999. I have a whole tribe of cousins, but none of them are young enough for me to remember seeing them as babies. Most of them were born within a few years of me. And Ash is the first of my friends to give birth (thankfully, since she's older).
I forgot how tiny newborns are. (Joey was actually a beast, but that's another story). I remember visiting Joey so many years ago, and thinking in my eight-year-old way about how miraculous birth really is. A new little human being arrives and has wants and needs. It's so hard to explain, but I was so moved...maybe that's why it is called a miracle.
At eight, I still had very little understanding about childbirth (and no knowledge whatsoever about what has to happen first). But I found myself just as floored this past weekend as I was back then. Perhaps even more so, actually, because now I do know.
It's crazy how significantly life changed for my friend in just a matter of hours. Sure, you build up to the moment during your whole pregnancy. But nothing can prepare you for the unconditional love you feel for your child. (I'm not a parent yet, so I'm speaking through observation).
I have awhile until it's my time, but for now, I am so excited to have a new little guy to love!
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