Disclaimer: I am probably at stalker status on Amanda’s site and absolutely loved her hubby’s recent post. It probably has something to do with the fact that I, too, recently brought a small person into the world. Her pictures of mini wrinkled hands and sleeping faces help me to stop and enjoy the quiet moments along this new journey. As all my mommy friends tell me, this next year or 18 are going to fly by and I would like to stop periodically and remember the times I know I will miss.
I don’t really know what time of night it is, it could be 3 AM, 5 AM or even 7 AM but you are up, eating with a vengeance. Your 4 – 6 week growth spurt is what the books say, unable to satiate your hunger until you fall asleep pressed closely against my chest. As I gaze down at your tiny whisps of eyelash I think about all your life will become. Soccer games where you will run haphazardly across the field, unaware of the rules but excited to be part of something larger than yourself. First days of school, cub scout meetings, pool parties, action figures, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Little league games, high school sweethearts, not enough time to kiss mom goodbye before heading to the bus stop. Your newness amazes me, that you were only an addition to the room a little more than a month ago is beyond my comprehension. It feels as if you’ve always been there, laying peacefully between your father and I.
When you stir in your sleep I need only to remind you that I am there with a pat on the back and a squeeze to pull you closer to my heart. Your left hand holds tightly onto my right and your breathing synchronizes with mine as you finish eating. I reach over to lovingly touch your sleeping father as I sit awake propped up on pillows feeding you. Your father, equally excited over your arrival, is a great man. A man of faith, fun and pride. A man who will never let you down, who will encourage your dreams, dry your tears and celebrate your achievements. A man who always has an appreciative word, a giant hug and more love to give than you’ll know what to do with. I pray that you inherit these amazing qualities from him.
You stir because you can’t get comfortable propped on my lap so we lay down next to each other. After a few more gulps you breathe a tiny-baby-size sigh and fall asleep with your face pressed up against my chest. You are in a state of sleep where you completely and utterly trust that I am your mama and will take care of whatever you need. And I will.
After complaining last week, to friends, about how you didn’t like to be put down I realized what a gift I had been given. You are happiest in my arms, exactly where I hoped you’d find comfort. Before your arrival I ached to hold you and now that you’re here that’s exactly what I should be doing. I’m beginning to decipher your cries and you have a cry that tells me that nothing’s wrong except that you long to be in my arms. I love that cry!
When I pick you up I kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear. You wrinkle your forehead as if listening intently to what I’m saying, processing my sweet message. You look at the world with your huge slate eyes with such a sense of wonder and curiosity. I can’t wait to see the world through those eyes as you grow up.
One thought on “Love Letter to My Son”
Love Love Love that baby of yours, can’t wait to meet him!