Resolute Protector of Men

When I was twelve years old, my mother's cousin brought her new baby for a visit. I was drawn to that little person like a moth to a flame. I was the firstborn of four children and already a little mother. I had my baby dolls and Barbie dolls, tea sets and doll house, but this was a REAL baby that I was allowed to feed and change. I remember lovingly doing these things during their visit and then as time went by they had to leave. I keenly felt my empty arms and went looking for my mother. We usually had our "woman to woman" chats in the bathroom and that's where I found her putting things away. With my heart in my eyes, I begged her to have another baby so I could take care of him or her. She sat down on the toilet seat and gently broke the news that she was done having babies. With tears rolling down my cheeks and my heart breaking, I heard her tell me that soon I will be able to have my own baby to love and hold. I love the newborn stage. It's my favorite and probably why I keep having babies. This part of my baby's life is so short and so precious. I love the feel of newborn skin. There is nothing softer. I love all of the funny expressions he makes from confusion to wonder. I love to watch him sleep and study the fine details of his face. Of course, to me, he is the most beautiful baby in the world. Again, I have become a young girl with my own little baby doll. We are never apart. During this time, many women get the baby blues. For me, it's a time of joyful thanksgiving and also sadness. Sadness because someday I will have to say goodbye to the days of childbearing. Right now, I bask in the blessing that God has given me. As I kiss his tiny cheek, feel his silky hair, and count his baby toes, I say, "Thank you, God, for my little Liam."