I never expected to be so in love.
Sure, I knew I would love my baby, before I even knew I was actually going to have a baby. And when I found out I was pregnant I felt a hesitant sort of excitement, but I did everything I could not to become too attached too soon, as I'd miscarried before. Then, when we saw the heartbeat and her tiny arms wiggling (though we didn't know she was a she yet), I felt an overwhelming stream of love for the tiny being inside me I couldn't even feel moving yet. But even then I was unprepared and unwitting. I had no idea what was to come.
Throughout my pregnancy I grew more and more attached to the little person I was growing, without actually having any real sense of her as a person. I feel stupid trying to describe the feeling, but there it is.
After she was born I had a couple of weeks of panic, self-pity, and uncontrollable weeping. I would hold her and rock her, sing to her, kiss her, smell her and try my darnedest to feed her. It was a rough time, filled with long nights and a lot of daytime naps. I know I loved her; I am sure of it. Looking back now I regret that I didn't take a break from the woe-is-me attitude and spend more time just loving her and realizing what an incredible blessing she is.
Somehow we made it through those first weeks and breastfeeding became miraculously easy (like everyone said it would). Over the course of the next few months, I was able to enjoy her developing personality and to adore her smile and to stop crying every time she cried. I learned that I love her, more than I love anyone, anything. I love her more than myself, more than I can even fully grasp. I never, ever, ever (I really mean it) EVER could have understood this kind of love before she was born.
I love her cooing and gurgling. I love the faces she makes and her attempts at laughing. I love when she screams just for the pleasure of screaming. I love waking up way before I'm ready and being unable to be grumpy because she's grinning that beautiful toothless grin at me. Her cheerfulness is infectious, and I can't believe I ever made it through the day without it.
I love her cooing and gurgling. I love the faces she makes and her attempts at laughing. I love when she screams just for the pleasure of screaming. I love waking up way before I'm ready and being unable to be grumpy because she's grinning that beautiful toothless grin at me. Her cheerfulness is infectious, and I can't believe I ever made it through the day without it.
It may sound terrible, and it is very hard to admit - even to myself - that I didn't feel this kind of love the instant I met her, but I think it's important to put it into words and, more importantly, to forgive myself for it. Everyone copes differently, and what matters is that I didn't let it get the better of me.
And what's more, I love her more now than I did when I made this realization. I love her more today than I did yesterday. I will love her more tomorrow. As incredible as it seems to me that I could possibly love her any more than I do at this moment, this instant, right now as she sleeps so peacefully in my arms, I will. And I'll continue to do so for the rest of my life.