Oversized Heart

I'm posing a question that has been posed to me by one of my most cherished blog readers. I'll protect the innocent by changing his name to ... ahem, let's see ... Juan (wink, wink).

How can you love more than one child?

Juan doesn't think it's possible.
To be honest, when I first was pregnant, I wasn't sure either. Then Bradley came and I giggled at the thought of not being able to love him enough.
Then when I became pregnant with Emmy, similar thoughts entered my mind. "Am I going to be able to love her as much as I love Bradley?"
I had the audacity to question my heart's ability with this third pregnancy. One of my biggest worries came when we decided to not find out the gender. There was only one person who told me that not finding out the gender would be a mistake; I would have a hard time bonding with the baby, she told me. (everyone else supported the idea of being surprised). That thought re-entered my mind after birth when we still hadn't decided on a name. I was worried that I wasn't bonding quickly enough with Olivia.
Here's what I've learned in these past few days about love and my heart's willingness to grow as our family does.

• It's that little turtle-like tongue that sticks out of her mouth when she's yawning.
• It's those freakishly long fingers that roam aimlessly when she stretches.
• It's that unending dependence on me.
• It's those still-skinny legs that kick when she's not bundled up like a burrito.
• It's her love of being bundled up like a burrito.
• It's her smacking lips at the onset of hunger.
• It's the way my other children watch and dote over their new little sister.
• It's her soft cries during her sponge bath.
• It's knowing where this precious treasure just came from.

Here is a mere smidgen of the hundreds of things that make me love her automatically. Yes, Juan, it is possible to love more than one child. And if you believe that, believe this:

the love grows and multiplies indefinitely.