With my first child, all thought fled my mind. I was just dumbstruck by her beauty and the wonderful, indescribable feeling that this is my child. And I cried for about ten minutes, too.
With the second, he and I both barely escaped dying, and he had to be delivered by c-section. I was just relieved he was ok. And I counted every finger, every toe, every teeny tiny golden hair. And I was then JOYFUL; he was perfect!
With the third I was just ecstatic, amazed. She was gorgeous, too. And the doctor had said I could never conceive again- well ha, ha doc! I was thinking, what a miracle!
With my fourth, I was again relieved. He was premature, and looked like a tiny old man. But by golly, he was the biggest, healthiest premie they'd ever had in the ward! I just felt lucky as heck! And I still do.
When it comes to our newborns I think often we FEEL those precious moments, in a way mortal words simply fail us. And perhaps that is the way it is supposed to be.