With heavy, sleepy eyes I can feel the fullness coming back to me in drips. Wholeness seeps through my body despite the last 48 hours of purging poison from my body.
Sickness always knocks me for six and for the time that I'm really struggling with illness (and it is always a struggle) I forget. I forget how complete and wholehearted my life has become since you joined your father and I. And, as the fog of sickness begins to lift and rise away from my body, I can see quite clearly the everyday blessings that we as a family are lucky to enjoy and acknowledge. For joy is in the little things that life brings us; togetherness, laughter, support, affection. All these things we have in abundance and you are most certainly a catalyst for this. I think your father and I will always be grateful to you for enlightening us to the purest and simplest joys of life.
I considered many times, while pregnant with you, what you would look like (I was wrong) or what type of person you might be (which is all still in the making and for you to decide and reach for) but I never considered how hearing your laughter would drown me in glee, how your soft skin and boney elbows would comfort me, how generous or sensitive or giving you might be and how utterly proud that would make me.
Your father and I sometimes find it difficult to articulate to each other how special you are and how we feel about you and often (most evenings after you've settled to sleep) we look at each other and simply say, "isn't he amazing?", and goodness boy, you are. I don't have enough words to express your greatness, but I think you make it speak for itself every day.
You are a light little man. You are a light. Keep burning bright.
Linking up with The 52 Project.