Falling

I fell in love with my son before I actually knew he was a son. I fell in love with him just staring at a second pink line on an EPT stick. I fell in love with him with every day I felt sick. I fell in love with him the first time I felt him move, and every time after that. I fell in love with him as my pregnancy advanced and I could actually see him moving in there. I fell in love with him when the nurse laid him on my chest and I finally learned he was B, and all throughout that first night while we were skin on skin to warm him up. I fell in love with him as he slept away those early days, and then as he began to wake up and see the world. The first time he smiled at me, I fell so hard it was like something from a movie. And I fell all over again at his first giggle. And the first time he kissed my cheek, the first time he blew me a kiss, the first time he said Mama, the first time he climbed the rails of his crib to get to me, and a million other times in the past year. And I fall in love with him all over again every time I'm holding him as he falls asleep, and his head is on my shoulder, his soft hair on my cheek, and I can hear his peaceful breathing in my ear. I was never someone who thought such a simple thing could represent one of the biggest thrills in my life, but it does. We had kind of a rough day today. He was uncharacteristically cantankerous. But even on days like today, this is all still true. Like a friend of mine said today, "That's why God made babies so freaking cute!" There is more wisdom in those words than you'd think.