Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Blessed

It seems impossible, but every day I love him more.

His crib is next to our bed for the moment, pushed between my side and the wall. I can lean over and watch him sleep, or just lie in bed myself and listen to all the marvelous noises he makes. When he's in a deep sleep he makes no noise at all, but just after I put him down or just before he wakes up briefly in the middle of the night he'll sigh and stretch and make small squeaking noises. I'll peer over the rails and find him completely turned on his side, or on his back with his two arms curled up beside his head like a bodybuilder. His lips are parted just slightly and his eyelids with their delicate, long eyelashes flutter.

When he's asleep in the Bjorn, as he is now, I can bend down and kiss the top of his head. It is so soft and smells so sweet and warm. He sometimes squirms and stretches his legs and kicks me gently in the thighs, then lifts his head and lets it fall back against my chest, all without waking. Even if I thought I could transfer him to his crib without waking him (which I don't), I want to keep him snuggled close to me, so he feels as safe and content when he wakes as when he fell asleep.

He has a full, dimpled, open-mouthed smile that he often gives me when I change his diaper or when I'm sitting with him propped up against my knees. I get the feeling that it's involuntary and spontaneous, that he smiles despite himself. The joy of living, or perhaps the joy of being with the people who love him the most, just hits him suddenly and he can't help but grin. I feel the same way.

Every day now it hits me just how much I love him, just how much I love his father, and how happy and grateful I am just to be here with them both.

So the grin, maybe he gets that from me...

...but the dimples, they're definitely from his father.

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