The things I see when I look at my son

Today is a bittersweet day around here.  It is my son’s birthday.  And while I’m excited for him to be turning 2, I’m also a bit sad that the baby days are creeping farther and farther behind us.

There are all sorts of things I think about and see when I look at my son.  I see the baby boy who was bright blue and not making a sound when he was placed on my chest.  I see the medical team that surrounded him for 20 minutes until he was breathing on his own.  I see the nurse who laughed while she walked away after he was breathing well because he had wet all over the sleeve of her scrubs.

My newborn little dude. (Photo by Catherine Hatton)

I see the baby boy who had me sleeping beside him in the recliner of the couch for three months straight while he either didn’t sleep, nursed or finally conked out on the Boppy pillow beside me.

I see the chubby baby boy who watched his sister move and longed to follow her.

I see the rolls of baby fat on his legs that came from knowing I had fed him with my body and it worked.

I see the little head nursing away contentedly.

I see the baby boy who took off crawling trying to catch up to his big sister and his dog.

I see the bigger boy who toddled around wishing he could keep up with his sister.

I see the toddler running through the house wreaking havoc and getting into everything from the dog’s water to his dad’s electronics.

I see the toddler snuggling into my lap to read books.

I see the toddler snuggling against my chest while he’s sick.

I hear the beautiful sound of his first and many more words.  I listen to him singing and smile at the sweetness of him singing “Amazing Grace.”

My little guy last year, just before his first birthday.

I see the persistence he has to go after what he wants time and time again — even when it frustrates me beyond belief.

I see the easy laugh he has when he’s happy.

I see the frustration when he can’t quite communicate what he means or has to relinquish a toy he wants to play with and can’t.

I see the sadness when his sister goes away from him for school or just to have her own space in her room.

I see the joy in his face when he runs to greet his sister, my husband, his grandparents or me.

I hear his sweet voice asking for things more and more, adding in such a delightful “pease” at the end that it’s hard to say no.

I see a little boy who will grow into a man.

I snuggle a sweet, soft cheek and know that one day it will be rough with facial hair.

I feel his body snuggling into mine and know that one day it will be bigger than mine.

I smell his hair and his neck and all his sweet baby smells and know that all too soon those will be gone.

My little guy playing outside just a couple of months ago.

There is so much I see and feel and think when I look at my son.  I see how fast time is going.  I try to catch my breath and just enjoy the moments and go along for the ride.  I try to remind myself to enjoy every single minute before it is gone.

I don’t know what the future will bring.  I don’t know exactly what he’ll be like in another year, five years, 10 years or 25 years.  I just know that no matter how old he gets, no matter how much he changes physically, he will always be my baby boy.  He will always be my son who I love so completely.  He will always take a piece of my heart with him wherever he goes.  I will celebrate who he is today as a new 2-year-old.  I will celebrate the journey we went through to get him here and his journey since he was born.  I will celebrate all that I dream of for his future and the man he will one day become.  While his dad and I had a part in starting his story when he was conceived, I am excited to see how he makes it his own.

While I can’t help but feel a bit sad for the parts of his babyhood that are becoming more and more memory and less reality, I also can’t help but feel excited for all there is to come. I am blessed and thankful to be on this journey as Drake’s mom.

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