Today you are one month old. Right now, you are asleep on my chest, breathing softly; which is not unlike my first moment with you. The day I met you forever changed me. People explain that you will change, but there’s no way to understand what those words mean until you actually feel them. I swear the second I heard you cry my heart swelled twice the size.
You came into this world under a surgeons knife, and I was never more scared in my entire life than the morning we drove in to meet you. And before I knew it, I was never more happy than the moment you were placed into my arms. I can’t believe it’s already a month since we first embraced. What a whirlwind your birthday was; a day I will certainly remember forever and celebrate just as long. Your birthday was easily the most taxing event my body has gone through, losing half my blood. A month later my body is still recovering, yet I would do it a thousand times over (begrudgingly, of course) to have you asleep breathing softly on my chest. To me you are still my tiny little baby; impossible that you’ve grown almost two pounds heavier than the day I first held you. Likewise, the amount my heart has grown to accommodate all my love for you is immeasurable.
In this month I have lost so much sleep but gained so much more. I love to kiss you. You hate it. I know even though you may learn to love my kisses, one day you will hate them again. So right now while you’re too weak and puny to fight me off, I will kiss you despite your defiance.
I think you are the most beautiful human Ive ever seen, which makes sense because to me you look like your father (who is extremely beautiful, might I add). Your smile lights up my life every single day! My favorite thing in the world is to see your smile, to hear you try to laugh. I can’t wait to hear what your laugh will sound like, and I hope for your sake it doesn’t sound like mine.
I hope you can sense, and will always know how loved you are. That is something I love so, so much is seeing how much your dad, brother and sisters love you. You are so lucky, but so are we. And I am the luckiest. To have my one month old sleeping on my chest, breathing softly, dreaming of who knows what (but let’s be honest, probably my boobs), I am the luckiest woman in the world to be your mom. I love you.