Tonight

The house is quiet. I feel like I need to write this down before my heart explodes. I am laying here in bed snuggling with my sweet Dru. I stroke his hair and kiss his head. My lips quiver and my eyes well up with tears as I feel his forehead wrinkle while his eyes try to look up at me. 

I am grateful. I am grateful that he gets to know me as his mom. That I will be here to watch him grow. That I get to know him, love him, and soak up this joy everyday of my life. We look in each other's eyes and I can't help but cry while saying the truest most grateful prayer to my Heavenly Father for this moment, and for all the moments I will have to look into my son's eyes. "Thank You" has never seemed so inadequate.

Tonight I made the mistake of researching HELLP syndrome. I wanted to know how likely it would be for it to happen to me again if I ever was brave enough to have another baby. Instead of finding anything comforting, I read dozens of stories of women who didn't survive the syndrome. Strokes, seizures, brain bleeds, just awful outcomes. My stomach dropped as I read stories so similar to mine. The only difference, my body eventually recovered. I am alive. I get to be a mom to my little boy.

Because of Dru's metabolic enzyme deficiency he has to eat every 3 hours for his entire life. Which means only 2ish hours of sleep at a time for years and years to come. I have surprisingly never gotten frustrated with this schedule or with my baby. It's hard to hear about others, who had their babies at around the same time, talk about how their baby slept through the night. Or to watch as friends are in and out of the hospital with a perfectly healthy baby in a matter of days. How easy that seems. But instead of being bitter, I have to think that I would never trade in my perfect baby to have all of these struggles taken away. I honestly love to wake up and kiss Dru's sweet little cheeks every 3 hours. I am exhausted, but I am so happy.

I can honestly say I have loved and soaked up every divine moment with my little boy. I can't ever hold it together when I think about what could have happened if we had waited one more day to go into the Emergency Room. Would he have only known me through the words David told him? Would he have grown up never feeling or seeing how much I just absolutely adore him? When I think about him without me, or me without him, it makes my heart ache with the knot that throbs inside.

I hope I can always remember how lucky I am to have the chance to be with my little boy everyday and every night. For now, it is easy to love and enjoy everyday. I have always been told how "hard" motherhood is. Perhaps that feeling will come. But to know how close I was to never getting to experience any of these sweet sacred moments, that is not the way I would describe it. He gets to feel the warmth of my skin, the adoration in my kiss, and my awful singing voice every three hours. What I blessing that is. What a blessing he is.

Tonight I look at him and he looks at me. The world is quiet. We have each other. Instead of worrying about the future, I am grateful for right now. Because right now is perfect.