What is it that makes holding a newborn so sweet?
Certainly, it must be those cherubic cheeks and chins that invite you in to snuggle close and get lost in that sweet newborn scent of theirs.
Or those beautiful, bright little eyes that, in taking you in, take your breath away.
Or those delicate little fingers and toes that capture your absolute awe and amazement in their petite perfection.
But there is something more, something sweeter, something deeper, something that goes beyond the features…
For one thing, it is as if a part of my heart is suddenly resting physically in my arms, in a form I can now see, hold, and feel…
It is the fragility of their littleness and newness, that calls for such care in handling, as something so precious should.
It is seeing the uninhibited dependence, one that fully trusts and rests at peace in her mother’s arms.
It is the sight of purity and innocence personified; a rare look at a raw, unguarded, unadulterated honesty not yet marred by the brokenness of this world.
It is beauty. It is light. It is hope.
It is a reason.
But perhaps most of all, it is a painful awareness of the fleeting nature of this stage, the knowledge that this will be gone before I know it.
And so I sit – in this chair and in this moment – holding on as best as I can to my precious little babe and the present, for it is all I can do to fully soak it in and enjoy it.