On Some Serious Notes

As the second month of Griffin's existence comes to a close, I can't help looking back at these last 8 weeks with complete and utter disbelief. Gina, go grab your kleenex.

I cannot believe what an amazing ride this has been. I have a journal that I try to write in every day and rarely does that happen two days in a row, but still, I know this time is going to fly and I want to remember as much of it as I can. The problem is, I can't find words sometimes to describe how I'm feeling and how much love I have for this child. Now, I've never been one that has trouble communicating her feelings or anything else for that matter. But these feelings are so complex and so intense it just won't suffice to say really, really or extra, extra.

The best comparison I've managed to come up with over these 8 weeks is a religious one, and I hope I don't lose anyone here because I'm not trying to spread the Word or solicit Christianity. But the truth is I think I finally understand what all of my Sunday school teachers were trying to say when they described how God loves each one of us because we are all his children. I can see the love God has for me in the way I feel for Griffin every morning and every night.

Every smile he gives me or sound he makes is the best gift I've ever gotten times ten. Ten thousand even. I get choked up just telling him, "Mommy loves you," and "I love you". Because those words are so trivial to the feelings behind them. I want more than anything in the world for him to understand how much love there is for him in G and my life. It surprises me every day that my breath catches in my throat when I see him sleeping.

There has been frustration and exhaustion in these last few weeks, even pain and many tears. But I never expected any less and I never ever expected the payoff and reward to be so tantamount. I relive the hard parts to remind myself where we are now and how much we've overcome and how grateful I am to be here looking back. Sometimes I remember children I took care of in the NICU and their parents spring to my mind. I have all new respect and appreciation for how hard every day is for them when it's their child who's suffering. I don't know how they do it. I have been so blessed to have a healthy pregnancy, and a healthy robust child who's demeanor and personality are unbelievably warm and soft.

Aside from the pictures, let me tell you how I see my son. Griffin is so sweet. He's so affectionate and his heart is always on his sleeve. He spends his days quietly studying everything around him or begging me and his Dad to hold and cuddle him. He snuggles right into my shoulder when I pick him up and breaks into a huge gummy smile when he makes eye contact with me. He coos, he "yells", and he farts and burps, all equally well. I love every sound. He cries, yes he definitely does, but only for a reason, be it hunger, discomfort, or exhaustion. He's patient, mostly. He loves people.

In a word, he's indescribable.