Ethan
is ten weeks old today. Ten weeks. It seems like a lifetime ago that he came
into our lives, and just yesterday at the same time. It’s still so crazy,
thinking back on our time in Florida and all we went through these past few
months since learning we were chosen to parent him. He’s growing and changing so much – it’s
incredible. But tens weeks has me a bit emotional.
I feel twelve weeks, and my return to work, steadily creeping up on us. And then I find it a bit hard to swallow the lump in my throat.
I have dreamed of being a mother for as long as I can remember. I have wondered for years what it would feel like to hold a baby of my own in my arms.
To snuggle a soft head against my cheek.
To see a big toothless smile and coo just for me.
To stumble around at night warming bottles and changing diapers.
To sing quiet songs and whisper prayers of thanksgiving while rocking my sleeping baby.
I daydreamed and fantasized and wondered what it would be like…but none of that could have adequately prepared me for how my heart has been captured by this baby boy.
My Ethan.
Nothing could have prepared me for how I would feel being his mother. It is simply amazing. God-given. Wonderful. And oh-so bittersweet.
Tonight Ethan was fussy. He was gassy and irritable after another exhausting morning having blood drawn at the doctor’s office. I was exasperated trying to comfort him. But as frustration gave way to calmness and he finally gave in to sleep in my arms, I realized something. No one can bring him comfort the way that I can. No one knows him quite the way I do.
I am his mommy.
And he knows it.
Incredible.
I know all you mothers out there already know this – but my waiting heart just couldn’t conceive of it until now. Nothing has ever moved me like this precious gift – this answered prayer – this adorable, lovable, sweet baby Ethan. And being his mommy is just the best. I am so beyond thankful that I get to do it.
The next few weeks are bound to fly by and soon my days will be spent at the computer, and not hanging out with Ethan and Matt. My boys. My family. It will be a tough transition. One I can’t really fathom either. In the meantime, I’m doing my best to soak as much of it up as possible. My floors may get a little hairier, my fridge may be a little bit bare, my hair may be pulled up in a messy bun.
But…
My arms will be busy holding my son. And it will all be worth it.
I feel twelve weeks, and my return to work, steadily creeping up on us. And then I find it a bit hard to swallow the lump in my throat.
I have dreamed of being a mother for as long as I can remember. I have wondered for years what it would feel like to hold a baby of my own in my arms.
To snuggle a soft head against my cheek.
To see a big toothless smile and coo just for me.
To stumble around at night warming bottles and changing diapers.
To sing quiet songs and whisper prayers of thanksgiving while rocking my sleeping baby.
I daydreamed and fantasized and wondered what it would be like…but none of that could have adequately prepared me for how my heart has been captured by this baby boy.
My Ethan.
Nothing could have prepared me for how I would feel being his mother. It is simply amazing. God-given. Wonderful. And oh-so bittersweet.
Tonight Ethan was fussy. He was gassy and irritable after another exhausting morning having blood drawn at the doctor’s office. I was exasperated trying to comfort him. But as frustration gave way to calmness and he finally gave in to sleep in my arms, I realized something. No one can bring him comfort the way that I can. No one knows him quite the way I do.
I am his mommy.
And he knows it.
Incredible.
I know all you mothers out there already know this – but my waiting heart just couldn’t conceive of it until now. Nothing has ever moved me like this precious gift – this answered prayer – this adorable, lovable, sweet baby Ethan. And being his mommy is just the best. I am so beyond thankful that I get to do it.
The next few weeks are bound to fly by and soon my days will be spent at the computer, and not hanging out with Ethan and Matt. My boys. My family. It will be a tough transition. One I can’t really fathom either. In the meantime, I’m doing my best to soak as much of it up as possible. My floors may get a little hairier, my fridge may be a little bit bare, my hair may be pulled up in a messy bun.
But…
My arms will be busy holding my son. And it will all be worth it.
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