A Time to Laugh

I LOVE MY LITTLE GUY!!! I was just sitting here with my nursing and thinking. . . .

I love studying his growing body. I love his getting-bluer-every-day eyes. I love the roses in his cheeks. I love that he has my husband’s ears. I love that his face is shaped like Elise’s, his sister in Heaven. I love that every day his eyelashes are getting longer and his eyebrows are getting darker. I love the smell of his sweet baby breath and his sweet baby poo.  I love his chunky trunk. I love his big feet and his sausage toes. I love his dimples for knuckles and his chubby wrists. I love all his chins.

I love what he does. I love that he kicks and giggles in anticipation of his after-bath baby massage. I love that he belches like a sailor in a quiet, but crowded sanctuary. I love that he eats with audible gusto. I love that he unashamedly puts on the pounds.

I love the ego boost he gives me. I love that he watches me enter and leave a room. I love that he grins at me the most. I love that my voice can comfort him. I love realizing that God made my body especially for his little self right now. I alone can feed him perfectly. All my newly larger and softer spots perfectly cushion his nuzzling head and his tender legs. I love that when I’m with him — even at 2.5 months — he knows he’s safe and he’s home.

I love how he’s changed our lives. Television is now not as exciting as simply studying his face. I love watching my husband’s stress melt away when they snuggle. I love seeing Cricket the Wonder Dog fiercely protect this helpless pack member. I love learning to type with one hand.  I love that pushing the stroller still feels like I’m playing house. I love discovering new aisles in department stores — aisles full of ointments and wipes, blocks and wagons, tiny saddle oxfords and dapper suits. I love that while I’m unshowered, uncombed, and undressed, my husband says I’m beautiful because I’m feeding our son. I love that, when they see us together, strangers easily start up conversations and friends thank the Lord. I love that amidst sleepless nights and crying jags this still feels like bliss. I love that after four years of learning from our time to mourn, we now have our time to dance.

Needless to say, I’m in love. After only 10 weeks, 1 day, and 7.5 hours, I’m captivated and fascinated, enthralled and in awe. And very, very blessed.

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