I live for the little things you do. The first time I got to hold you, (an hour or so after you were born), I tried to nurse you. You immediately latched on and you knew just what to do. I marveled at your intelligence and at God's perfect design that He gave you the knowledge of what you needed to do to live. You knew how to breathe, how to potty and what you needed to do to eat. You were brilliant in every conceivable way.
You were perfect. Your head was perfectly round and your skin was without flaw. All of the nurses talked about how beautiful you were. I was mesmerized by you. I couldn't believe that you were ours. I was afraid to blink in case I missed something. I watched you breathe and I listened to you cry. (You have never cried for long. We are always right there to give you a bottle or change your diaper.) I was amazed by your tiny little fingers and toes and I was impressed by the strength of your grip. I would find myself lost in my own little world, just staring at you. The whole of the room would be talking and moving around me, but I was hypnotized by you.
As a new mother, I was terrified that I was doing things wrong. I was so tired the day they sent us home from the hospital that I took a long nap once we got home. Everyone left the apartment early that evening, and then it was just me, you, and your Daddy. Your poor Daddy! I was crying about EVERYTHING. I cried looking at you, I was so moved by how perfect you were. I cried as I held you, convinced that we needed to go back to the hospital. I was overwhelmed with fear. I didn't know how we would ever be able to keep you safe and happy. I cried for every reason imaginable. Even though I knew that the main issue was my hormones going crazy from no longer being pregnant, it didn't make things much better. That first night you woke up a few times and you stayed awake a few hours. I cried as I rocked you, convinced that you would never go back to sleep. I was resigned that I would have to give up any and all sleep and live life as a zombie. But, everything worked out. It turned out that you were designed to handle new parents and that you knew exactly how to let us know what you needed. And, after that first night, you quickly adjusted to sleeping at night and being up some during the day.
You are a VERY good baby. You sleep through the night, around 7 hours at a time. You only cry if you need something and as soon as that need is met, you are quiet again. We are very, very blessed.
As every mother does, I have convinced myself that my baby is the prettiest and the strongest in the world; you were holding your head up on your own at only a day or two old. Granted, it is still a heavy ol' noggin and you haven't gotten total control of it yet, but you are getting there! I live for the times that you give me that smile of yours! When you smile really big, you scrunch up your nose. There is nothing cuter in this world!! You laugh in your sleep now and I can't wait to hear you laugh when you are awake. You have the most expressive face. You are absolutely adorable!
Yes, everything in my life is topsy turvy now. I find myself feeling most comfortable when you are in my arms, and your baby smell melts my heart. I love to kiss your chubby cheeks and tell you how very much I love you. I love it when your Dad and I take turns reading to you at night and I love sharing all of my favorite music with you. You are the perfect listener for whenever I need to talk, and you seem to take in every word I'm saying. I see you when you follow us with your eyes and you try to read the expression on our faces. I hope you can see how incredibly proud we are of you and how you have captured every fiber of our beings. I don't mind the countless messy diapers and the occasional spit-up. I don't mind when you are fussy or when you are a little more of a night owl than usual. I consider you to be the greatest gift in the world and I love you to the moon and back!
"Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body." - Elizabeth Stone
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