Saturday, January 30, 2010

2 weeks

He is perfect. His hands are beautiful, the fingers long and almost elegant. His hair is dark and full, his face exactly as I saw it when I dreamed of him. He is sweet, and sleepy, and loves his milk and snuggles.

Today my son is 2 weeks old.

I want to write that I was head over heels in love with him the first moment I saw him...but that would be a lie. I was terrified as the room filled with people, as they worked on him. I was in pain. And then I was...angry. Angry that I did not get to hold him right away, that his first feeding was formula, that I was hurting so damn badly.

In the hospital I was drugged. When I came home, I was focused on Lily and holding it together. My in-laws were here. I was trying to find a way around the physical pain, trying to recover. I held him, and I fed him, and I changed him, but in an odd way, I barely noticed him.

I felt guilty, because when I had Lily, I looked into her eyes, and I KNEW her. I had been waiting forever for her. And there she was, and I was lightning struck and in love within moments. I gazed at her for hours. Nothing kept my focus from her.

I wondered if I would ever feel that with Samuel. I waited for it.

And then...he opened his eyes the other night after his feeding. And he looked up at me. The world abruptly fell off a cliff as I stared into his eyes. I got chills as I whispered "Oh, THERE you are." He just looked up at me, and he knew me as well. It was a most sacred moment in the quiet. It was not lightning, it was not as bold or as breathless as I had with Lily, but it was exquisite.

So here we are, a family of four. We have spent the last week here at home, snuggling, playing, learning our new dynamic. I have spent it adjusting to being a mommy of 2. There has been very little sleep and some tears from all of us. But the moments I watch Lily kiss her brothers cheek, when I watch Mark take on the role of daddy again, changing diapers expertly, making bottles, rocking the baby, playing with Lily, I am so proud of who we are and how we have grown together. Samuel is the last piece of the puzzle, the one who makes the home complete.

And now I cannot stop gazing at him, tracing his fingers with mine. I cannot keep my lips from his forehead or my fingers from his hair. And I cannot help but feel my heart swelling as I look at his perfect face. I am utterly and totally in love with my son, the one I have waited for and longed for and prayed for.