Tiny diapers

Today I had the pleasure of visiting a dear friend and her 2-week-old son. He’s her third, and the only boy, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her since his birth. She looked wonderful—surprisingly well rested and content in a real, deep-seated sense.
And her baby! Despite doing the newborn thing three times myself, I’m always, always stunned by the size of new babies. And this is a big baby—ten pounds at the two-week mark, and a whopping nine pounds out the chute.
But it’s all relative, and come on, he’s two weeks old, and oh my goodness, those tiny fingernails and that wobbly little neck and the little mouth. And those new baby sounds! Swoon, okay? You just can’t help it. He sucked me right in, after about four seconds’ hesitation because I’m always the teensiest bit nervous with other people’s brand new babies. I sat down on the couch and snuggled that little baby against me, and it was a completely familiar sensation. He curled into me the way they do, and I felt his little body radiating heat and I just stared down at him, stunned that in a month and a half, I’ll be doing the exact same thing with a baby of my own. Again. I still can’t believe it, even when I’m feeling my assertive little girl booting around and making her presence very well known.
My friend’s baby snoozed for our whole visit. This isn’t my first rodeo, and I’m familiar with the angelic sleeping thing new babies do (hint–it doesn’t last), but I still fell for it, hook, line and sinker. The teeny stack of diapers alone did me in. Look at the size of this thing! Even Elmo can’t believe it. And yes, that’s a pencil for scale. Squeee! It makes me so excited for our new baby girl. Because no matter how familiar it is, how many times I’ve done this, it’s going to be new and exciting just because she’s new and exciting. And I can’t wait.