Pregnant pause

Is it just me?

A colleague who's off on maternity leave brought her baby in yesterday. She was instantly mobbed – not just by the women but also by the men who had children of their own. There was much cooing and hupsy-daisying and ickle-sweet-thinging, and a certain amount of bouncing up and down on hips, and a large number of silly grins.

And of course it was great to see her looking so well. She's the first person I've known throughout their pregnancy (at least, the first person offline who I've been able to see with my own eyes) and it's been fascinating to observe the process from the first casual “By the way, I'm up the duff” to yesterday's triumphant appearance. She's happy, and I'm happy that she's happy.

But the baby was, well, a baby. A small confused-looking thing that (mercifully) allowed itself to be passed from person to person without squalling hardly at all. And?

Actually, I know from previous baby conversations on DJ and LiveJournal that it's not just me who can't see the appeal of babies. It's just, yesterday it was difficult to believe I wasn't in a very small minority indeed.