Loving Your Babies

A few of my friends are pregnant. And The Inevitable Question has come up: "Do you want a girl or boy?" Some of my friends are adamant about one or the other. Others don't care. But The Inevitable Question has raised some interesting conversations - among them, how can you love your children the same?

You can't.

I love all three of my children equally, but I do not love them the same.

I can't.

They are different people and have different needs, different personalities, different mannerisms.

I love Baby Girl with the wonder of newness - since she is only 7 weeks old, everything about her is wonderful and new, everything is to be marveled at.

I love Boyo with a fierce intensity - the same intensity that he greets his life every day. He is constantly going, running, talking, thinking, loving. He sets a fast pace every day, and my love for him races to keep up.

But Girlie... I love her with a zealous passion that I think you can only feel for your first born.

Not that I love her more than her brother and sister, but there is a deeper bond that I don't have with my other two. Why?

She was my first.

She was the first child I carried under my heart and in my arms. She carved out the groove in my arms that the other two nestled in. She was the first baby to rest her head against my heart, in the exact same spot that her brother and sister would later easily find.

She was the first one to keep my up all night, the first one to smile at me with a look of total adoration, the first one that I worried for, the first one that I paced over, the first one that I bathed and fed, the first one that I dressed and snuggled. (It's not all hearts and flowers, though. She was also the first one to make me want to slam my head into a wall or scream at the top of my lungs.)

Girlie completed a part of me that I didn't know was empty - she made me a better person, a better woman.

My daughter made me a mom.