Bout to crank up the emotion and get gross. If you're not so comfy with a grown man's sobs of joy, go now; there's nothing here for you.
Baby fever is an ailment that needs no antidote. How it happens is a mystery, but when it hits you, it knocks you tf out. The bug didn’t infect me all at once, rather, it was a slow build that reached peak hysteria the first night. For weeks I’ve been attempting to capture exactly what’s overcome me, but the closest I can get is: OMG WHEN SHE FALLS ASLEEP IN MY ARMS MY INSIDES GET ALL TWISTED UP AND I CAN’T KEEP THE WARM GOO FROM OOZING OUTTA MY EARS. This is far from the eloquent realization I was hoping for, but it’s my best attempt at capturing the essence of my affliction. Baby love is hard to define! I look at her face and I see it. With her tiny head pressed against my body I can feel it, and it's intoxicating. It is some next level, super intense, baby magic. When she falls asleep in my arms, there’s a throbbing in my chest that won’t go away. I imagine over time that it may, but I pray it doesn’t. It burns up my soul and I find a peace that is unparalleled in the world.
This is all cheeseball to the max, I know. Unbearable? I warned you. But it’s true! She is my baby Xanax. If you’re me, this is a huge win. I have been filled with worry as far back as my brain remembers. The thoughts start small, but grow with haste. “What’s that spot on my neck? Oh a mole, I’ve never seen that before, I wonder when that happened, wait did I forget to wear sunscreen yesterday when I took the dog for a walk, OH CRAP ITS DEFINITELY STAGE 4 AND I’M ON MY WAY OUT.” This is not a joke. I often forget about a particular mole on the back of my neck only to 'discover' it about once a year. Out of sight, out of mind I suppose. Upon my rediscovery the scramble is on, and it’s off to WedMD for a frantic self-diagnosis.
I was certain the worry would only multiply once Holiday J (oh yeah, sometimes I actually call her by name) arrived but she's had quite the opposite effect. They're gone. Mostly. Now my concerns involve keeping the diapers fresh and her Mother happy (not always an easy task!). Of course there’s always the first five or ten minutes after she falls asleep that I must stare intently at her chest, making sure it rises and falls with every breath and her tiny lungs are still working. Irrational, sure, but a concern I’m quite lucky to have.
Short and sweet. Time to move it along people, next up; our good pal labor. Oh, this should be fun! See ya next week!