There’s nothing cuter than a litter of new puppies. You watch them play and sleep and you snuggle with them and pet them. But it can be nearly impossible to pick one out of the bunch. Experts advise doing one easy test to know which puppy has the best personality: you simply put the puppy on his back and hold him down gently for a few seconds – enough to give resistance but not too much to hurt the pup. How he responds – either by lying passively or by wiggling and worming out of your grasp — will tell you a lot about the kind of pet you’re welcoming into your family. Most people are looking for a pup that’s somewhere in the middle.

I think the same could be said about newborns. While I’m not suggesting holding a newborn down to see what he or she would do, I can say that the first 24 hours of a newborn’s new life is a foreshadowing of any dominant personality traits. I can see now with years of perspective the early signs of the strong character traits each of my three daughters possessed in those first hours of life.

When my oldest was born she greeted us with the typical signs of healthy life – lots of screaming and crying – but her crying ended quickly. She was a content child and snuggled up into her little burrito with her eyes closed and as happy as a clam to sleep off the trauma of childbirth. I, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of her. I repeatedly unwrapped her blanket to look at her crinkly ears that she inherited from her grandpa and her full lips she stole from my DNA. She stretched and fussed each time I’d examine her just as she acts today when I try to fuss over her. She’s content just the way she is. These days that means tucked away into a corner of the house, close to all the action, but snuggled up under a blanket (just like in those first few hours of life). Now, however, she snuggles with a book in hand.

When my second daughter arrived, just 361 days after No. 1, I expected everything to be about the same. After all, the date on the calendar was almost the same, my swollen toes looked identical to the Vienna sausages I had carted around the year before, and my husband had the same concerned but calm look on his face.

So, I was blindsided when daughter No. 2 came out. First of all, we didn’t know she’d be a girl (the strong-willed fetus only showed us her backside in every ultrasound.) We also didn’t know a kid so small could have such a big set of lungs. I’m not sure I’d ever heard a child scream like that – ever. She was not as happy to see us as we were to see her. She screamed and screamed and then screamed a whole bunch more. The doctors swore up and down that she was perfectly healthy and that some kids are just more fiery than others. Hmm….fiery? What does that mean? I thought. That sounds like code for lots of sleepless nights.

As we lay down to sleep that night in the hospital, my 12-hour-old, 6-pound daughter could not be consoled. Everything I tried –and I thought I knew all the tricks – didn’t seem to work on her. She was only happy when I was holding her. The problem was, I’d been awake for over 24 hours – giving birth and all – and I was a wee bit tired from the day’s events. So, I did what every experienced mom would do (and at the risk of being lectured by a nurse): I set her down in bed beside me. She nestled up against me, let out a big sigh of relief, and then fell asleep in 1.2 seconds (which is exactly how long it takes her Dad to fall asleep each night, actually).

A few nights ago I had a flashback to our first night together. We were away from home and No. 2 was having a hard time falling asleep. She tried every excuse in the book to explain why she was still wide-eyed and bushy-tailed long after her sisters had zonked out. She all but threw a toddler tantrum – even though she’s well beyond the toddler years – before I allowed her to climb into bed with me. As you can guess, 1.2 seconds after she pulled the covers up to her chin, she was out cold, just like that first night over 8 years earlier.

Last, but not least, my third daughter arrived after years of heartache, medical trauma, months of morning sickness, and even more months of pre-term labor and bouts of bedrest. Needless to say, we were all exhaustedly excited for her arrival.

And arrive she did. Right on time. The doctor asked my husband to predict the hour of her birth after we checked into the hospital for the delivery. Even though my labor wasn’t progressing, my husband confidently declared that our daughter would arrive at 11:17 a.m. And that’s precisely – and I mean down to the second precisely – what she did.

Exactly eight minutes earlier (11:09 a.m.) I had sent my doctor off to take care of other patients since I figured I was hours from delivery. I turned to lie on my side where I had a full view of all of the machines tracking my contractions, just as seismograph machines record earthquakes. Suddenly my machine looked like the San Andreas Fault during “The Big One” and I went from the first stage of labor to delivery in less time than it takes cheese to melt on the top of a pizza.

As a mother of two girls already – with very different personalities – I couldn’t imagine how on earth I could have another daughter (this time I knew she’d be a girl) that could still add yet another female dynamic to our home. But there she was– all 7-plus pounds of full lips and a lively personality.  She took one look at me, calmed herself, and then knowingly reached up to grab my index finger. I think we were both relieved to no longer share a body, but to instead share life together but in separate bodies. She never misses a beat but still beats to her own drummer, just like her arrival nearly five years ago.

It never fails to amaze me how distinct and different each of my daughters is in looks and personality. Just like a litter of pups all from the same parents, but all so different. I guess my daughters’ births are proof that parenting really isn’t a one-size fits-all approach; rather, each child needs her own layers of compassion and direction. Each of my daughters’ births tells the first chapter of the story of who they are and what they will become. They are just as individualized today as they were the day they were born.