You look like me. Should I say sorry? When I was pregnant with your older sister I prayed that she would get daddy's straight hair and beautiful arched eyebrows, and my legs and dimple. When I was pregnant with you all I could pray for --- was not to lose you and for you to make it to term. And here you are, born at exactly 37 weeks. Yes you have my wavy hair, my big bushy eyebrows and daddy's thighs.... But I wouldn't have done it any other way. You are beautiful in mine and God's eyes.
You laugh without sound. One side of your head is flatter than the other. Your poop smells like a toxic dump (literally and figuratively). You throw up half of what you eat 8 times out of 10. And you get angry when no one talks to you while you're awake (even if that's at 3 in the morning).
You are a sight to behold. You are a miracle.
When you smile it brings tears to my eyes. You smell like love.
I am watching you sleep as I type these words, and my heart is filled with the wonder of you. And the knowledge that everything, every big, little, painful, awful, wonderful thing it took for you to get here (on my lap, snoring like your father) was worth it. So worth it.
You are living proof that God loves me. And I love you.
