E and I have already been through so much together. He is my heart and soul, the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I don't cry myself to sleep every night. When I look into his eyes, I have a million thoughts and a million feelings that are almost impossible to put into words, but I'll try.
I remember the moment I found out I was pregnant with him - the feelings of joy and excitement, but also of trepidation. The days I voluntarily put myself on 'bed rest,' fearing that somehow being too active would make me lose him. I remember the sheer terror, the way my heart stopped when I was triaged at 23 weeks and told I was dilated a centimeter and a half. The emptiness I felt when discussing that, at 23 weeks, it would be best to only do comfort care if he arrived that night. Bracing myself for that. Pulling out all of our meager savings in case we had to do another funeral. Six weeks of bed rest in the hospital. Celebrating each day of the pregnancy that passed without my body failing him. The night I was told "I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid you're going to deliver tonight. We can't stop your labor." The confusion I felt when my labor stalled, and my mixed relief and agitation at that. The morning he was born, catching a brief glimpse of him, hat on, being bagged, and rolled away to NICU. The days that followed, alternating between hope and complete despair. Imagining bringing him home, yet the next minute imagining what I would dress him in for his funeral, how I would comb his hair. How lucky I am that I never had to do that. How afraid I still am that someday I will.
At nine months, he's going through a really fussy period. It has come at the worst time - coinciding with the end of the semester, and to be honest, sometimes I feel at the end of my rope. Doing this alone is so difficult, so much pressure. But when I look into his eyes, even when I'm the most frustrated, I can't believe how lucky I am. I get to care for him every day. I get to watch him grow. Every day I kiss his little feet, and count his little toes, and literally thank God for allowing me to keep him one more day. Every breath he takes, every beat of his heart is a miracle. And I will never, ever forget that.
I love you, E.
Look at him now!!!