Best Part of My Day

Today was a good day. We got to hang out with family we don't usually see, eat good food, play a game of Trivial Pursuit, and relax a little bit. My son was in a good mood all day long as he was passed from person to person, many of whom he had just met. Even with his feeding schedule a little off-kilter and his sleeping interrupted, he was his jolly, happy self.

That is, until we got home. He started to get hungry, so I fed him and he ate with his usual voracity. Then afterwards we decided to put him to bed, so he and I went upstairs. But as I laid him down to change him and put his pj's on, he started crying this terrible, frantic cry. Typically, he loves his changing table, so I knew something was up. I picked him up and his cry got a little less frantic. My husband came upstairs when he heard the crying, and we both deduced he was probably having gastro-intestinal issues. We endured his frantic cries while we changed his diaper and got him into his pj's, then I offered to try to calm him down.

With his room ever so softly lit by his moon lamp, my beautiful baby boy and I bobbed in a wide oval across the carpet. As we walked, I told him how much his daddy and I love him, how long we waited for him, what a miracle he is, and how our world is better with him in it even though it wasn't perfect for him or me at that moment. Then he burped a nice, deep burp. I brought him off my shoulder and saw that he was still wide awake, so I cradled him in my arms and shushed him. We swayed back and forth together for a few minutes when it happened; my beautiful little boy, with his eyes half closed, smiled. It was a brief smile, but it was like he could feel how much I loved him and would do anything for him.

And it was the best part of my day.