This is the point where we start fishing out all the old baby photos from the family albums, and looking for shared features: YES, the eagerly awaited infant has arrived, and my two great-grandchildren have forgiven their new little brother for being a boy (they had ordered a sister, but the Despatching Angel obviously thought we needed more testosterone in the family).
Of course he is extremely beautiful. A perfect little cherub on his photos, which so far all show him asleep; when he starts bawling it might be a different story! And thanks to modern magic we, more than a thousand miles away, have been able to see almost instantly what this new little darling looks like.
When my daughter was born in Germany fifty years ago, photography was relatively expensive and you didn’t waste film, so my parents in England had to wait several weeks until we had taken 36 black and white photos. Then these had to be taken to the chemist who sent them off for developing and printing, and after that we posted them by airmail, which added another week.
Now, in contrast, the hospital where my new great-grandson first saw the light of day at teatime yesterday had posted a full-colour pic of him on their website by dinnertime, for us to ooh and aah over. And this morning five more photos and a blog post by his proud grandmother at The Little Washhouse.
He seems like a considerate child: he didn’t want to be an April Fool nor an Easter Bunny so he timed his arrival for the last day of March, exactly as estimated, and at a convenient time of day rather than the middle of the night, allowing his happy Mama to take him home before bedtime. I can imagine the rejoicing this morning when his two older siblings awoke and found him there, and how much cuddling has been going on!