I am up at 1:30 a.m. because I have the worst headache I have ever had, well, at least in a very long time. I laid awake in bed beside Dennis listening to him breathe, while watching an episode or 5 of Roseanne on my iPod until the battery died.
Still painfully awake, I got up and I walked in Daniels room.
Watching him sleep, I was brought to tears. I remember what my life was like one year ago. Without a child. With no real hope of one, and surely no promise of one. At this point, last May, I still had no idea that I was going to be a mother even though our little Daniel was being made deep within, in secret, even without my knowledge. I feared that I would live a life without the experience of carrying a baby in my womb, feeling him/her kick, having the infamous heartburn, getting huge, and eventually experiencing the most painful ordeal that I have yet to encounter, feeling labor pains, and then the pushing out the most precious baby boy I have her laid eyes on.
And yet, one year later, I stand over him, with his eyes closed, unaware of my presence, and I silently and tearfully praise God for this blessing in my life. Motherhood is something I have LONGED for from the deepest part of me for years. And, every day, I get to wake up, and nurse a small baby, cuddle him, love him, sing to him, rock him, shhhsh him, change him, and LOVE him all day long. I am cherishing every single day. I find myself at times rushing his milestones. . “Just sleep through the night..” I think to myself. And then, when he does sleep through one night on a rare occasion, with no real pattern, I find that I missed our sweet time together and wished that I had not wished it away. One day, we will be busy. He will play, go on play dates, have over nights with friends, do this, do that, etc. And that will be just fine. . . . but…..
right now, while the world spins, and life goes on, I am home. Rocking my baby. And I would not trade that for anything in the world.