This one is actually old but my blog was down at the time. So here goes…
December 5, 2016
Nicholas is 1 month old
Nicholas has woken up while I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, chomping down on a mixture of two cereals. Rice Chex and some weird blueberry toast cereal that I didn’t buy. I never really can sneak and eat around him. He always catches me and then looks at me as if he caught me cheating on him. I quickly finished and sat the bowl on the dresser and slid underneath the sheets.
I laid next to him with some distance in between us and just stared at him. He looked back at me and started squirming. I laid still and watched as he used every muscle, every bone, and every ounce of his body to fight and wiggle his way toward me. I remained still and just stared. His arms flailing about, legs kicking the air and sheets, slightly rolling on his side. He stops when his hand touches my face. Opening his fist, he rubs his hand across my cheek and for a moment I thought his fight was over.
But it wasn’t. He started back up and once I realized that he wasn’t going to stop until I held him, I reached my arm out and snuggled him. He quickly calmed down and fell asleep. He needed me.
Then my emotions got the best of me. I thought to myself, if only his father would do the same for me. Fight with every ounce of his body to be closer to me. To get his family back. Show me the same strength and perseverance. He didn’t need me. Tears came flooding down.
Nicholas shifted in my arms and shifted my thoughts. He needed me. So I wiped my tears, pulled him closer, and closed my eyes. Inhaled his sweet baby smell and promised I’d always reach my arm out if ever he needed me.