Friday, December 21, 2012
Today you are two. It's been two long years. Two years ago today I was laying in a hospital bed with empty arms while you lay in an incubator in a NICU 7 miles away. It felt like 700 miles were between us but I kept reminding myself that you made it. You were alive, which is more than they predicted. I was scared. I was tired. I ached for you. I was beginning a journey that had a lot of bumps and turns, ups and downs and I had no idea if I was strong enough. Even now, sometimes I wonder if I'm strong enough. Now as I sit here watching you bathe, smiling and bright. Tubes draped over the tube, a port in your belly and scares here and there... I look back at a narrow, tear stained, rocky, pot holed, beautiful, bright, long road. This journey is more than I bargained for but has paid me back ten fold. You've brought out the best in me and though you I'm getting over the worst in me. For every one tear you've brought me one hundred smiles. For every sleepless night I've been given 100 joy filled days. You are my sunshine. My rock. My lesson, my love. You've been though more in two years then most old men. Your tiny body has been cut, stuck, poked, prodded, bruised and bandaged. You still smile. You laugh with intent. You bring joy everywhere you go. You are my hero, my angel. Happy two years, big guy. Thanks for being you. I'll love you forever.
I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.