A spinoff of the “What’s the Most Beautiful Thing You’ve Ever Seen” thread - a number of posters said that the most beautiful thing they saw or felt was holding their own baby for the first time.
Now, I’ve never been a parent, and have never been a “baby person” - I don’t feel warm fuzzies at the sight of babies, am not an “awww, how cute” person, and in fact am downright afraid to hold them, for an irrational fear of dropping them. The sound of a baby crying is also almost as bad as fingernails on a chalkboard to my ears, especially if aboard an airplane. I’m not a misanthrope and I don’t *dislike *babies, I just don’t particularly like them.
So I wonder if the Dopers (and countless other people) who have said that they were overwhelmed by a rush of love and powerful emotion at the sight of a bloody, mucus-y, crying baby being put in their arms represent average people and this is what the vast majority of average people feel; a potent rush of love that hits them all of a sudden. Or does it happen even to people who aren’t “baby people?”
When, exactly, do you suddenly start feeling love for this baby that you’re having? As soon as you find out you or your spouse is pregnant? Or as birth nears? Or right after birth?
Edit: So I realize my thread post doesn’t really match the thread title.
How exactly does holding your own baby feel different than holding someone else’s baby? I’ve never felt any emotion while holding someone else’s baby in my arms, except for, as mentioned above, an irrational fear that I might accidentally drop the baby.
I’ve always loved babies, and babies mostly like me. Holding my own descendants is different from holding another’s, but not harder or less satisfying. I enjoy holding babies, regardless of whose. Although being nagged about HOW I hold someone else’s baby is less than enjoyable. Since I’m an old hand at babies; the “advice” is probably unnecessary and irritating. (My own 6 kids, numerous nephews and nieces, a grandchild… I have vastly more experience than the nervous hover-mommy nattering at me. But I’ll humor them if possible.)
If I’m close to a little one long enough, the love will grow. There are several wee ones in our greater circle I’d sacrifice greatly to save, if they were in peril; even if they’re not my kin.
I am also not a baby person, or at least I used to not be one. And both my kids are adopted, so I never held a newborn.
But my moment of bonding with my son is described here.
Holding other people’s babies is civilized. Holding your own is primitive. You are accessing a different part of the brain - not the part that talks, the part that breathes. It can actually be kind of scary, because you feel like an animal. And not a tame one, either.
Protectiveness was immediate for me (though it was some time after delivery: I had an emergency C-section under general anesthetic.
Love and pride came later, and gradually. The protectiveness and the sense of responsibility drowned out everything else. It seemed rational to me that I might never sleep again, to watch over him. It seemed preposterous to me that I might sleep, and leave him unprotected.
I do not recall holding a baby until I held my first child. I am still not into holding random babies or even babies of acquaintences.
My oldest is 21. I would say the love for her grew as she grew inside my wife. 9 months of hoping and watching from the outside. Of talking to my wife’s tummy. Of anticipation of what this new life would bring.
As soon as I saw her emerge, I knew there was little on this earth I would not do for her. Same with our second daughter.
At the point that the next child in the larger family came, my youngest was almost 5. So I was still really wrapped up in my own children. The next came a year later, but still very involved with my own. By the time the third child (that was related but not mine) came along my youngest was 11 and I was feeling like I was not as close to my neice and nephew as I would have liked. So this nephew was the first I really remember holding shortly after he was born.
4 yrs ago, the 4th child was born that was not mine. By this time, I was really digging being an uncle. My oldest was 17 and my youngest was 14. My wife and I have babysat for this neice (and her sister that is now almost 2) several times. I have rocked them, fed them, held them, read to them, played games with them. I love them almost as much as my own. I have also tried to be a better uncle to the older ones.
My point in all this is, I think most babies are cute, but I have no desire to hold any other than my neices and nephews (and hopefully one day grandchildren).
For me the desire for me to hold and care for a baby does not go much beyond my immediate family.
The first thing I thought when my baby daughter was put into my arms was “she’s funny looking, but I will love her.”
From the time the pregnancy test turned pink, I felt fiercely protective of her. After she was born that intensified almost to the point of not letting other people take care of her at all. Then the hormones subsided and I loosened up, but still for a long time my main feeling was “don’t you DARE hurt that baby.” Which is a kind of love.
Thinking she was beautiful and just looking at her for the pleasure of it? Didn’t start until I gave up on breastfeeding when she was two and a half weeks old. Before then, I literally didn’t have time to look at her. And having that time–the literal and emotional freedom to just enjoy her–was the most magical thing of my life. Which is why I’ll never stand by quietly while someone gives a sanctimonious speech about how “breast is best.” Because sometimes it just isn’t.
Really really falling in love with her as a sweet adorable thing and co-member of our Mutual Adoration Society started when she was about two months old. For a few weeks, if you looked at her and hummed “oooooooooh,” she would go “oooooooh” back. And then at a year old when she first showed that she understood what I was saying; and then when she started to talk; and then when she started to put me down for naps, and then when she read me a bedtime story for the first time, and now when she writes me letters… She’s a neverending cascade of better-and-better.
ETA: This, every word, right down to the C-section under general anesthetic:
I didn’t like babies when I had mine. Holding her when she was born was more of a gross and terrifying experience. It was probably 9 months before I started loving her once she developed a personality and we could do things together. Now she’s two and I think she’s awesome and I frequently enjoy our time together.
My best friend just had his first kid and he’s struggling not to hate her. I told him it gets better. I held his kid and it’s no longer terrifying but mainly I was doing it as a favor for him and his wife not out of any actual desire to be around a kid other than my own.
It’s something difficult to describe, sort of like the falling in love where it feels like 90% of your brain function is dedicated to that person. It’s like that with a new baby, just a very strong bond.
I am not into babies at all, never was. But I had a thriving babysitting empire as a teenager; I was like the Tony Soprano of babysitting. I’ve held many babies and felt nothing emotionally.
And then my sister’s first kid was born and she put that tiny baby in my arms and I cried like he was my own. I am still fiercely protective of him and he’s almost 30. I did not meet his sister until she was a little older, so I didn’t have the same experience with her when she was born.
I can’t speak to holding one’s own baby, because I didn’t have one, but there was definitely something different about holding my own flesh and blood vs. some random church member’s kid.
I am a man and my feelings about babies were pretty close to yours.
Even after having two children with my wife, I am not a baby person. I am not “aww…can I hold him?”
However, you do grow an appreciation for them a bit. Your baby is better than others, but I was never thrilled to have a baby. I was happy to have a baby that would turn into a child.
Also, your patience with other babies and parents gets better. Babies on planes don’t bother me as much because I have had to deal with a screaming baby for many many hours. You get more used to it, and you feel more sorry for the parents.
"Changing your own kid’s diaper: Meh, no biggie.
“Changing another babies diaper: HOLY CRAP THIS IS GROSS!!”
I think that sums up the feelings towards one own child and another rather nicely.
I was kind of bleary and nauseous when I held mine for the first time, so I can’t assign too many emotional feelings to the act of putting my arms around her.
But looking at her scrunched up crying expression after they pulled her out of me and wrapped her in a towel? My heart still pangs for that tiny, tortured face. I can’t even call it love…just extreme empathy and desire to comfort and make the scary world go away.
It was enough to make me throw up, yall. Hence why I was nauseous when I held her.
Totally hormonal experience. I wouldn’t feel this way for someone else’s baby.
I heard it another way:
“Babies are like farts. Yours are OK, but all others stink.”
I am not a baby person, either. I was glad and relieved as my own 2 started getting bigger and more able to handle themselves. Gradually, they become interesting people, and I noticed that while I loved them as babies, that love grew along with them. Feedback from them as they grew became more rewarding - infants are just a lot of grueling work and not much to show.
One thing to note, tho, and I remind all parents of small children - you will never know when the last time comes that you will hold them in your arms. For all the times I cursed being the father of small and noisy human, I do miss the ability to pick them up and hold them. Now that they are full-grown, hugs must suffice.
I cried at the sight of my first born, right after birth. I continued to cry for a long time. The nurses thought there was seriously something bad wrong with me. But every time I looked at him, I would just start bawling. He was the ugliest, smushed up, red faced little alien thing I couldn’t even imagine. I had just spent 9 long months thinking my baby would be a perfect and beautiful little boy. But he wasn’t. It was a shock. He looked kinda like Jimmy Durante, big nose and all. But…wait for it…the 2nd day he became my beautiful boy! It was like magic. He was the prettiest baby boy EVER! I still think he is adorable. He’s 30yrs old. btw