Dear Baby Wonderful #2

 

Dear Baby Wonderful #2,

You will not know for many years, decades even, the emotions of writing that opening sentence. And in many ways, I hope you never know, because my dear one, those emotions are wrapped up your arrival almost exactly one year after we started a year that was indescribably dark and fraught.

Your cousin had made his appearance just one day before the pandemic was officially declared, and at the time I reminded God that this baby was symbol of hope. A year and a few weeks later, here you are, the other end of the rainbow. Quite sensibly you timed your birth so that you could shout "Hallelujah!" for vaccines, symbolizing a cautious return to (socially distanced, masked) meetings, and the possibility that Grandma and Grandpa could safely fly out to meet you. 

We can't wait to meet you, a child so obviously one of our clan. 

First, and most obviously, you are a boy. One of these days you'll undoubtedly gain a cousin who doesn't have the XY chromosome combination, and I'll be just as thrilled to meet her, but I have to be completely honest: I was secretly hoping you would be joining the guy brigade that is the House on the Corner. 

And then, there is the sheer adorableness of your presence, as evidenced in today's pictures. Has there ever been a more moochy-moochy Shar-Pei of a baby? You were a well-nourished newborn, and at 9 lbs. 14.4 oz., pretty much the Gaston of the nursery. In fact, one of the first things your delighted mom told us on the phone was "He's got rolls!" They are everywhere--creasing in your tiny thighs, your sweet upper arms, on your back. I don't want to harsh your buzz this early in your life, but while I am thrilled you take after your GrandmaQueenBee in this, these are much less adorable when you are on  Social Security. You might want to try to avoid that better than I have. But on you? Flaunt 'em, Baby!

You've also made it clear that you have a mind of your own, as did all of the boys who have preceded you in the hive. The photographer who arrived for your newborn shoot was not able to coax you to open your beautiful eyes even once. The second she left, though, you woke up, looked around, and grinned. As Uncle Boy#1 pointed out, you are nobody's monkey. 

Your Mom and Dad have been warriors. They rolled with the punches of pandemic childbearing, with Lovely Girl #2 attending prenatal scans and appointments by herself--only the patient could enter the hospital, so Boy#2 missed seeing your first stretches and yawns. There were no baby showers, no hugs from excited friends at church. 

But what do those really matter now? You are here. They FaceTime often, so we recognize your prodigious startle reflex, and your amazing strength--you're able to hold up your head already, even though the replacing of said head on a shoulder is a less-controlled operation. (THUD!)

They adore you, and watching them in their new role as parents is perhaps the most miraculous transformation their own parents can see. 

Next week Grandpa and I will be coming to meet you. Don't worry--we're fully vaccinated, have a full stash of masks and hand sanitizer, and will hand you back to your Mom or Dad the second you start to cry. They aren't leaving you, and even though most of the time we'll be halfway across the country, neither are we.

You're the other end of the rainbow.

Much love,

GrandmaQueenBee