As impossible as it is to believe, you are six months old today. A friend once said about the passage of time that the days may drag on, but the years fly by, and I’m finding that to be so painfully true.We had some truly difficult times in those early months, days where we both cried too often, but we are now finding our rhythm and I am grateful for each moment that I have with you. I look at you now and cannot believe that we had such a rough beginning.
Since you were finally diagnosed with and treated for acid reflux, you are a remarkably different baby. Gone are the days of incessant crying, shrieking, back arching, and vomiting. You now smile, you play, you sleep, and you hug. I am sorry that it took us so long to find you some relief, my sweet boy.
You now sit independently and your huge, toothless grin shows just how proud of yourself you are. You light up when Katie comes near and you can’t get enough of her hugs and kisses. You are also trying desperately to figure out how to crawl and if I’m honest, I hope you wait a bit.
There are several small and precious moments in the day when it is just the two of us and I find myself staring at you in awe. I can’t believe my good fortune to have you as my son.
I look into your beautiful baby eyes and I wonder how you see me. Do you see how saddened I am that we had such a rough start? Do you see how I smile at the mere sight of you? Can you possibly even begin to imagine just how much I adore you?
I touch your cute little ears and I wonder why it is that you love my singing. (You are truly the only one who does.)
I look at your sweet mouth and eagerly await the sound of you calling out my name. The sound of your laughter brightens my days, sweet boy.
I hold your tiny baby hands and find it impossible to imagine that one day your hand will dwarf mine. I am so grateful for your touch, the way you rub my face in the sweetest way, as though you are trying to tell me something important.
I tickle your chubby little legs and hope that you have them for a while, since you are our last baby and I can’t bear the thought of you growing.
I look at your tiny feet and yummy baby toes and can’t believe just how perfect you are.
You are a joy, Matthew. You are delicious and happy and above all, you are a true blessing.
I love you,