Oh balls. Ever since I was a teenager I’ve hated babies and children. Over the last few years I’ve toyed with the idea of having children, nay, actually maybe thought I wanted them. Eventually. Today I went round to Naz and Mike’s house to see their week-old baby Sophie. I can’t remember the last time I held a baby. It might have been under sufferance about 10 years ago. For about 30 seconds. Then I felt sick and thrust it back at its mother.
*Look at this face! How can you not love???
Not so this time. I held little Sophie Ava for about an hour, checking every 15 seconds that she was still breathing and I had not accidentally killed her. Oh my god, I’m in Love. A lot of babies look horrid. She is perfect. And I could not stop holding her and watching her sleep and squirm (and not cry). She has the most wonderful parents and two lovely Burmilla catfriends who haven’t tried to suffocate her (yet). This is such a soppy post but I was out with Naz and Mike a week before Sophie was due. And two weeks later I’m holding her in my arms. Like a pro.
Next time I’m going back when she’s screaming and tell Naz to make me change her nappy so that I get out of this terribly clucky 30-something-year-old woman headspace. Until I find someone to make babies with. Or at least practice.
Vale Sophie Ava: you da best.