Love is a funny thing.

The minute I laid eyes on Scorch after he was born, I was in love.  It was like nothing I had ever felt before. I stared at his fat cheeks and his single dimple and his widows peak and that was that. Love in its purest form.

When the Bean was born it wasn’t quite like that.  Labor and, subsequently, delivery came on hard and fast- there was no time for pain meds.  It was the middle of the night, The Hubs was in shock over how quickly things progressed and the variety of swear words I was hurling at everyone. My nurses and doctors were less then helpful. Once Bean was born, she cried for 3 hours straight and nothing- nothing– we did calmed her down.  I remember looking down at her red, angry face wondering what the hell we just got ourselves into. It wasn’t until later that morning- around 5 am- when it was just her and I and she was nursing that the love for her hit me.

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Red sent out new pictures of LaLa last night.  I don’t know this child- I never had the chance to feel her kick in Red’s stomach. I’ve never touched her soft skin or nuzzled her tiny head.  But there it was again. That love.  It’s a different love then I have for my own kids, but still strong. That instant bond of family- the bond that says you belong to us. You’re so wanted. We will fight for you.  I cannot wait to start nibbling on those cheeks of hers when she’s older!