Before I had babies, I would always hear stories of people giving birth and instantly feeling overwhelming love for their children. This didn't happen for me. I remember being in the hospital and realizing that I had not yet fully grasped that those two small babies were coming home with me, and that I would be their mommy for the rest of my life. My time in the hospital felt so surreal, and while I knew that I loved my boys, I did not yet feel it.
Those first few months were hard, even though I had family constantly supporting me. There was such pressure to feed, to pump, to change them, and to then try to remember to shower and feed myself. Those days were about surviving, and I rarely felt I had the time to simply enjoy them. They needed me, and of course I loved them, but I was so caught up in the necessities of caring for them that I did not luxuriate in my feelings.
Now, almost a year later (and really, for some time now), I feel completely and madly in love. I cannot look at my boys without feeling stunned by their beauty, and with the honor that comes from being their mother. Last week as we drove home from Maine, I sat in the third row of the minivan and watched them sleep. I could feel my heart clench at how perfect they are: I am heart-breakingly in love with my children.
They are so much fun, and I am proud of them everyday. Benjamin has become an expert hugger, and it is a delicious feeling to have his little arms wrapped tight around my neck. Asher has continued to be snuggly beyond his cold, and I get many moments each day with him in my arms, his head resting on my shoulder, as he sucks his thumb. I told Eric that I wish there were a way to capture these moments, the feeling of loving them fully and being loved in return, of always making them smile when I walk into the room. I love them more everyday, which is crazy, because everyday I feel as though I love them to bursting, but it's true. I am so in love.