I have a little secret to tell. When I was preparing for the birth of my child, so many women told me that as soon as they held their baby in their arms that all the pain of child birth was forgotten. The heavens opened and the angels wept and their hearts were instantly filled with love. Yeah . . . that is a load of crap.
The first time I held the Dude, I was confused. I looked into his little face and thought to myself, "Who the hell are you? Did you really just come out of my body?" He looked at me as if to say, "Right back at ya, babe."
Over the past 6 weeks my attitude has changed, and so has the Dude's. But, just when you think your little angle is settling down and into a routine, he changes. Over the past few days the Dude has turned into a little devil. While feeding him his bottle, I stop every 50 ml to burp him. If I don't, he gets gas and there is hell to pay later. He has decided that he does not like burping. His face turns a bright red color and he screams in my ear. This was surprising as he is not much of a screamer. Yesterday when I looked into his screwed up red face, I expected horns to sprout up.
It is at times like this that I just want to take him back to the hospital and say, "Seriously, you can keep him." But then he will surprise you. Yesterday morning when he was lying quietly in his crib, I got to actually get dressed before noon. I went over to say hello and see how he was.
"Hi, sweet pea." He turned his head to the sound of my voice and smiled. It was a real smile and not just gas. For the first time I think he realized who I am. Okay, so maybe not as "Mommy," but at least as the giver of food, which he really seems to appreciate. At that moment I think I actually fell in love with him. It might have taken some time, but I do think the heavens opened . . . And then he started crying. Man, so close.