8 weeks ago, we met for the first time. For the first time, I heard your cry. I felt the smooth silkiness of your newborn skin, I breathed in your new baby smell. I held all 8 pounds 3 ounces of you in my arms at long last. 8 weeks ago my dreams came true. After almost 5 years of impatient trying, of multiple tests and heartache, we held the most precious gift in the world.
8 weeks ago, you were tiny. You wore newborn clothes and newborn diapers, everything so tiny and cute. Today, you have grown. You are smiling and cooing. I honestly believe you are trying to laugh, and if your smiles can make me cry, then what will happen when you laugh?! You are wearing 0-3 months sized clothes, and size 1 diapers. In these past 8 weeks, you have stolen my heart.
Yes, even in the middle of the night when I know you are hungry and you won’t eat, you have my heart.
Yes, even when I change a dirty diaper and you poo all over the fresh one even before it’s on, you have my heart.
Yes, even when you won’t calm down and we are both tired and frustrated, you have my heart.
I had no idea I had this much love still to give. I worried you would come along and I would be spread thin between Daddy and Big Brother and someone would be neglected. Every morning I am given the chance to love the most precious men in my life – Daddy, Big Brother, and you.
I can not imagine life without you. I don’t know the reasoning for not having you in our lives sooner, but I trust it was all just waiting for us at the right time. Every day you continue to grow and to learn, and every day I continue to love.
Happy 8 weeks, baby.