The Little One

Sometimes there are words spinning in my head just itching to come out, but I haven't had the heart to release them in a long, long time.  That isn't normal for me, but I've come to know a new normal in the last two years and maybe normal isn't so great after all.  My sister has always told me how weird I am and I think she was right.

One theme that recurs in my head over and over and over again is this amazing state of motherhood.  I try not to be one of those moms who rhapsodizes about her child so much that it makes everyone around her sick.  I am fully aware that I am biased toward my son; I fully believe that there has never been nor ever will be a cuter little boy or a sweeter or more amazing one.  But I am also fully aware that every mom feels the same way and I'm okay with that.  In any case, I love my son wholly and unconditionally and radically.  I say radically because it surprised me just how much I loved him from the moment he was born, and I love him even more deeply today.  I was shocked by the depth of my feelings; I had no idea that I had this capacity for love.  I was surprised because I thought I already loved someone as much as one human can ever love another, and that love is for my baby's father.  I do love my husband trulymadlydeeply, but the love I have for our son is deep and beautiful and strong in a completely different way.  I recently read a mother describe it as discovering another chamber in your heart, and I think that explains it perfectly.

I've always been a romantic, so I don't blame you if the above paragraph makes you a little nauseous.  I told you the words were trying to get out... now they won't be flying around in my head, bumping into my skull.