My friend Mary had her baby! His name is Henry, and here he is, a mere two weeks old:
In past experiences with baby-holding, the kid often smells my trepidation and starts to cry. But Henry, bless him, was too small to sense my fear, and so he snored and dreamt in my arms like a puppy for nearly an hour. Now: I am certainly not baby crazy. I also wouldn’t say that I have a way with them. But holding Henry: I kinda got it. He is a perfect little product of both Mary and her husband, pieces of both of them apparent in his delicate face. He is innocent and strong and miraculous. So I think I get babies now. Again, not baby crazy, but I would officially like to change my status to ‘baby aware.’