The Love Will Come

I haven't washed the washing machine yet...

But as the busy weeks go by I know I am getting closer.

And as another Mother's Day passes me by....

Those same anxious thoughts are going through my mind that have every pregnancy.

How will I handle another little one?
Will I love this one just as much?
How could I love anything as much as my other kids?

And then, If I do love the baby, will it be some horrible trade-off, where I won't care about my other kids anymore?


Meanwhile, I have my sweet Charlotte climbing up onto what's left of my lap.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, nuzzling into me, with that sweet white skin of hers, and that silky dark hair saying,

'Mama, I just want YOU right now.'

And suddenly I remember.
The way she posed as a beauty queen in her baby sleep.
The feel of her soft head on my breast.
The way her eyes lit up when I put something 'pretty' on her head.

How adored she was, not just by me, but by all of her siblings, who never missed a moment of it all,
"Mom, did you see what she just did?  Mom, did you hear what she just said?"

Then I remember even more.

I remember my boys:  one with his chubby sweet cheeks and his gooey-soft baby body that would melt into you.
That boy of mine with the killer charm and precociousness.
And the one of my boys with those strawberry blonde curls that I couldn't get enough of.
My baby boys, with all their softness and their sweetness.

And my oldest, my daughter, who was my teacher in the first place.

She taught me how to be a baby mama.  I would just tune in and listen as she taught me lesson after lesson about how to throw away all the books and advice and do what felt right to both of us and just live in every possible, wonderful, moment of it all.

There's always this part of me during pregnancy that wonders, and worries just a little, that there's no way I can love more.  This fierce way that I already love my kids.  Because I love them with every part of my whole soul already.

Until the moment comes, when I hold this new person in my arms for the first time.

And I REMEMBER.

That I GROW.

The love comes.  Sometimes all in one rush, sometimes gradually, a little at a time until it overflows into this truly powerful miracle.

But always, it comes.

Both LOVE for the new little person in my life, AND increased love for all the other kids that are a part of my now even-bigger mother-heart.

I never expect this, and it always comes as a surprise to me, to feel so much love. Enough joy to instantly quell any silliness I had fretted about before.  

So for now, I must remind myself not to worry, Mama.

The Love will come.