I’ve just put my little person, our baby, Baby A to bed. He’s nearly 5 months corrected age and he’s been alive for nearly 7 months now. Alive… that’s actually not true, he’s been alive for a lot longer, he was alive within me before his first gasp of air nearly 7 months ago.
I rocked him to sleep and as I held him close I could feel my heart in the centre of my chest beating, expanding, deepening. My love for him has blossomed and continues to grow as the days pass. I held him in my arms and I just listened to him breathing, his sweet little breaths in and out. I felt his body with complete trust being held in my arms. I gazed upon his sweet innocent face looking so peaceful. I felt so much love. I still feel so much love.
Still I feel so tender from the NICU experience, about having him so early, about all of the complications in my pregnancy and with his birth. I am hoping that time will help heal this wounded heart of mine.
I am grateful that we made it out alive. I am grateful that we are healthy. I am grateful that we are a family. I am grateful that I continue to know love in ways that I never knew before.