My Baby Love

Oof. If you want to feel punch you in the gut, "How can I feel this deeply?" love, have a baby. For reals.

Recently someone said on facebook how much they find the book Love You Forever to be rather creepy. Listen, I don't plan to rock Roger when he's 35. That said, I must confess that every so often (including this past Saturday night, when I wrote this) I go in when he's sleeping, pick him up, and just rock him in the glider in his room. Pretty much every night before Jas and I go to bed, Roger gets a kiss from me.

Another thing is that I remember a friend of mine, upon my gushing about how much I love the boy, commenting when Rog was about a month old that I just needed to wait until he started smiling at me. Was she ever right! I've watched this video of Roger laughing, oh, 20 or so times. I can't ever get enough! Yesterday he laughed that hard again, because I kept putting a frosty drink bottle on his belly and saying, "Brr, cold!" in a silly voice. I just about melted a thousand ice-cube-on-lava times.

It's nothing glamorous or world changing, but having a baby does change you. Only those who have done it know what I mean. You think everything is one way, and then you carry that child for 9 months (or go through a possibly much longer adoption process) and the first time you lay eyes on that baby you're a goner. They have you, heart and soul, locked down for a lifetime.

Jason and I talk about this often, because I absolutely love my husband, as does he me, but there is a fierceness and depth to the love I have for my son that I couldn't have imagined before he came. If the situation called for it, I would die for Roger with nary a second thought. It's just my new reality, and there is a bit of a mama grizzly (no, nothing like nor to do with She Who Shall Not Be Named) that comes without pause when anything or anyone seems to threaten him, from careless drivers to a buzzing bee.

Anyway, I know I speak much of my son, but man, can you blame me? If you think he's adorable in pictures, just hold the boy. He's so chill, yet alert and curious and strong and he does this thing with only me when I pick him up  where he snuggles into my side and holds on sort of like a koala on a tree and it's just the stuff that will make me cry when he's all grown...or, you know, 2.

Friday marked 20 weeks since my darling boy came and so I snapped a shot of us that is one of my favorite. I'm not sure what it is, it just captures my relationship with him somehow, in a way I can't really describe. I started to try, with words about how he's always curious and looking off yonder but has to be able to touch me, lest he melt into a fitful puddle of cries and tears, and I wanted to make that as meaningful in words as it is in reality but I just couldn't.

So, I'll let the picture speak for itself.

Mama loves you, Rog Podge.

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