Marco Andres, our grandson, was born yesterday, August 16. He is, in our humble opinion, perfect.
Everyone is doing well. Sofia is embracing her role as a big sister and the adults in the family have fallen into that helpless infatuation that infants inspire. Amazing, isn't it? We always think our baby is the most beautiful we have ever seen. All part of some grand plan, I have no doubt. We love our children so profoundly as they enter the world, pure, innocent and vulnerable.
I had to laugh at the nurse who was taking care of Emily yesterday. She said, as a maternity ward nurse, she has seen thousands of newborns and her own son was the "strangest looking healthy, normal baby I have ever seen!" She said she asked for an assessment from neonatal experts to be sure he was truly OK. She laughed and said, "of course I adored him anyway and he is now quite handsome!" I think her professional experience with newborns was a liability in her own birth experience.
Birth is, at the same time, the most incredible, profound experience and the most everyday. I remember thinking, after my first child was born, "why didn't anyone tell me it was like this?" And, of course, everyone had told me, but you don't really get it until it is your experience. I think adopting must be similar. I can only imagine that being handed a child, with whom you will share a life and a bond from that day forward must be as surreally, stupifying as seeing the child you have just given birth to and having that same realization. You can't really prepare yourself enough for the reality of these things. And, until you are there, you don't fully grasp the grandparent connection either. My friend Priscilla has a great grandchild and she said, "I love that baby so much it scares me." As contradictory as that statement sounds, I understand it.
I have only known you for a day, little Marco, but I already adore you.
PS He looks a lot like his sister did when she was born. Why was that such a surprise? For some reason I expected him to look different.