Five years ago today, I was running on maybe 3 hours of sleep. At this moment I was sitting up and holding my sweet sweet little baby boy. My first born. My miracle. Running on nothing but love.
My very very first thought when they put his newborn body on my chest, wrapped in a blanket, not yet clean, unable to see his sweet face, was that he felt like a newborn puppy dog.
When he looked at me his eyes were so deep, I couldn't tell what color they were really, though the thought, even then, was blue.
He sat in my arms, and when he cried I just knew what to do. My mommy instincts were born as complete and full as my little baby in my arms.
Five years ago today, I thought my love for this child was complete. His delivery and birth cementing a love that would never be touched.
Today I look into his blue eyes and I see a boy who is beginning to look more and more like his dad. I see a heart that is full of laughter, mischief and an innate desire to "save the day!" I hear him grunt, fight, whoosh the air and wonder who taught him to be a boy. I wonder how he can be so much like me and so much like his dad, and yet so entirely his own character.
Today my love is greater, my heart fuller, than I ever expected. My love has been shaped, molded and matured through the obstacles and joys of mothering.
Three years ago today I found out I was pregnant with Micah John, who I can hear in the kitchen singing "Happy Birthday to Owen" over and over again.
Today we are having bacon, eggs and toast with kiddie cocktails (pop for breakfast? It must be someone's Birthday!) at Owen's request, and later a dozen or so Superheroes will be here to save St. Patrick's Day from Larry the Leprechaun. It is sure a day to be full of blessings, mischief and heroic effort.
Hopefully, I'll find time this week to write about that!
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