I was wrong, but not this time
Minor MusingsWhen I was 12 years old I watched our beloved family dog, a Chihuahua named Penny, give birth to four tiny puppies. I remember holding one wiggling puppy in the palm of my hand before it could even open its eyes. I was amazed by the tiny miracle, so perfectly formed in the image of its mother. I was instantly in love with those puppies and fiercely protective of them. I was sure nothing could ever happen to me that would move me more deeply. But I was wrong.
Published: May 16, 2010
Published: May 16, 2010
That experience paled to insignificance when my firstborn child was placed in my arms. The humbling awe-struck love and fierce protectiveness I felt was earth-shaking. John and I had been married 11 years and had given up hope we'd ever have a child. Yet there she was, Erin Marie, perfect in every way, an angel, a gift from God with John's eyes, my nose and our family bloodline coursing through her tiny body.
The doctor told us Erin was probably the only baby we'd ever have, and that was okay, because I knew I could never, ever love anyone else as much as I loved her. But I was wrong.
Just 17 months later our second daughter was born. I remember being totally amazed that I felt the same all-consuming, awe-struck love and protectiveness toward Heather that I had felt for her sister. I knew that surely this was the greatest love any one person could ever feel. But I was wrong.
Two years later, when our son was born, my heart stretched to love him too, just as much as the girls. Matthew, our third miracle, perfect in every way, made the family complete. The doctor made sure of it, surgically, at my request, because I knew I could never love any other human being the way I loved those three. But I was wrong, again.
Enter Alex Jane, our first grandchild. How can someone so small and soft have such an iron grip on my heart? One smile, one giggle, even over the phone, turns me to jelly. And now that she is nine months old, the truth is clear for all the world to see: Alex is the most perfect baby ever born.
Don't get me wrong. All babies are sweet, cuddly and precious. All are gifts from God. But surely everyone can see that Alex is special. Her smile lights up the room. Her skin is softer, her eyes brighter, her antics cuter than other babies'. She is obviously more intelligent, more gifted and more beautiful than any other child ever, period.
During our recent visit with Alex, every time I held her in my arms I had to fight back tears of joy. Everywhere we went with her, people could obviously see her superiority. Whether we were eating in a restaurant or standing in front of the whole church while she was dedicated, Alex stole the show. Amazingly, people managed to control their adoration enough to treat her like any other baby. How I can't imagine.
Obviously, someday, her adoring fans will no longer be able to contain their enthusiasm. Someday Alex will be crowned Miss America, or elected the first woman president, or simply declared Goddess of the Universe. You wait and see. No other child will ever compare to Alex. This time I cannot be wrong ... unless Heather has one someday, or a little Matt Junior comes along, or ...