when he was just brand new, it was probably mostly an intense feeling of protection i felt. i wanted to enfold him in my care and never, ever see him hurt. when he was a few days old and had to get his heel pricked at the pediatrician (he was kind of jaundicey) and he was just squalling in his strong, tiny little voice, i sat there bawling, milk leaking down my shirt.
i thought, 'what have i gotten myself into?'
how could i handle the enormity of these feelings?
and i thought that was something.
time passed, he's three and a half months now. his face changes every day and becomes more and more beautiful (more and more human... let's face it, he looked slightly turtle-ish at first, LOL), his personality emerges little by little and i enjoy the blissed-out, happy, exploratory, mellow baby he is becoming. all we have to do is catch his eye and smile and he gives a wide gummy grin that warms me like sunshine. when he wakes up and stretches like a little cat i want to simultaneously laugh and give him a thousand kisses. his little warm body, his chubby fingers, his huge little cheeks like ripe peaches, his head full of coily anime hair... he's the most beautiful thing in the world, and he looks at me (ME!!) with the purest most complete trust and love i've ever seen.
and i think: 'what have i gotten myself into?'
how can i handle the enormity of these feelings?
last night, we came home really late, and he woke up slightly when we put him into his car seat. i gave him his pacifier to help him go back to sleep, and when i placed it into his mouth, he grabbed my hand by my bracelets and held it there, up to his mouth. his chest was warm under my palm and his little hands were holding tight to my bangles and he seemed so small and at the same time so strong and determined and my insides just melted.
and i thought, 'what have i gotten myself into?'