While showing the kiddos those pictures from Baby’s birth I noticed this one. Maybe for the first time. Just after the birth while writing about it I posted several different photos from this moment where all my other children met him for the first time. And they were so noticeable and stunning that this one got lost in the mix of multiple clicks my husband caught. This one touches my heart. The other, older children with the newest. My daddy making sure the toddler is not hurting me – hovering, doting, helping. The 2 year old’s true, tired, shaky hold-me-mama. The look of love and release on my come-here-baby-how-are-you?
I saw this photo the other night and melted. I’m always so careful when the children first meet the newest member. The moment is much more fragile than my body, the sweet new baby, or even my emotions. It’s a moment some of them will remember for a lifetime. And one that some won’t. They’re simply too small to hold it in their memory for very long. But it could make an indelible mark. One that even if not recalled to the details will shape their beings forever. I am careful. I know the baby has been cuddled and nursed by the time my other sweet children meet him. But what the other children don’t know, especially the youngest – the one that was the baby just hours before – is that they are still cherished. Still in a special place. Still mine.
This is a fragile moment. Walking on ice. Very thin. Very life-alteringly thin. And this breakable moment will stretch out over the next few weeks. Slowly becoming stronger, more treadable, more normal month by month.
I move the baby over. I bring the small but now biggish baby to me. Freely, openly. Handing the newborn off to someone else if need be. I allow looking, touching, climbing, holding, and cuddles that older Daddies and Grandmas cringe over. So concerned about their own child who has given birth to this new one.
But I know this moment is special.
Treading on the eternal.
Making solid the ties that bind.
