Looks like we made it safely through the first week. Yesterday at 12:11 was Grady’s one week birthday, and although I don’t specifically remember (it’s all a blur of feeding, changing, and sleeping) we probably celebrated with a fountain of bodily fluid…
I joke about the lack of sleep and the messy diapers, but when all is said and done, I’ve grown pretty fond of the little guy. Looking into his blue eyes (which will change colors in about a year) when he’s about to drift off to sleep, I feel a rush of emotions somewhere between anxiety and relief, between love and fear, excitement and caution. Most of all, though, is adoration.
I also love the focus and structure he brings to what I can now truly call “our family.” I don’t mean structure in the sense of “schedule” or “predictability,” because heaven knows those words don’t mesh with his sense of timing. Rather, structure in the sense that no matter what he’s doing, I know we’ll be feeding him soon. Then changing him soon. Then coaxing him to sleep. Always. Well, at least for the foreseeable future.
And focus. He consumes our time and attention–so all those things we once thought were important pale in comparison, and only those things that really are necessary apart from him get our time and attention. Like, for example, each other. I loved Amy before Grady came along, but somehow I can honestly say that after what we’ve been through together in the past week–I love her more than I thought possible a week ago.
Tomorrow I go back to school–not without a tinge of regret at the first of many days I will miss in my son’s life–but now I’ll have twice as many reasons to come home, and twice as much love to welcome me through the door.