I was never one of those girls that loved babies. I'm not even sure I liked them much. While most females would ooh and ahh and beg for a turn to hold a newborn, I used that old trick from school. You know the one. Where you avoid the teacher's eye and do your best to seem invisible so they don't call on you? It's not a desirable quality. No one likes someone who doesn't like babies.
I've always thought they were cute... but the responsibility! I was scared of
them. What if they choked, or I didn't hold their head right, or they spit up (which is just a cute way to say "vomited sour milk"), or worst of all, what if I made them cry? My best friend gets the giggles when babies cry. (This happens to her at other inappropriate moments, too, like during funerals.) The same thing that makes her so nervous makes me run. My "flight instinct" kicks in... that is, it did. Until about two years ago.
My sister (the medium-sized hand) and brother-in-law (the gigantic hand) are expecting! Their first (the itty bitty hand) is absolutely the MOST adorable baby ever. He's nearly two and is the most precocious kid I've ever known. My heart must have doubled in size, just meeting him... but over these two years it's continued to swell. No more Grinch-sized, baby-avoiding heart for me! Which is great, since all of my friends are starting to get married... and you know what comes next!
I'm not saying I WANT one yet... but I might just hold yours! And I DEFINITELY want one (or two or three) eventually...