Today you are 100 days old. In the week leading up to this day, any little corners of reserve I had left in my heart were completely given over to you. Yesterday your dad was holding you. You looked over at me and made this heart-melting noise. I just fell over onto the bed, collapsed with my hand over that pumping muscle, every cell shouting your name. Sometimes I can't even breathe you are so handsome.
I have these strange moments where I just want to eat you. I know that sounds crazy, but I want to hold you inside of me again, to fully encompass you. I have a similar feeling sometimes about your father. Sometimes I imagine our bodies aligning, head to head, toe to toe, and he would sink right down inside of my skin. Maybe then he could understand the tremendous thing that sits in the middle of me.
The center of me is full up. I thought it was filled to capacity before this week, but obviously there were some cracks and crannies that needed caulking. I was happy before you. Your father and I were adventure-makers, rolling around in the bliss we found in each other's company. So many nights I fell asleep imagining it couldn't get any better. Then, you arrived.
The past 100 days have been the hardest of my life. And of the most worth. Your smile turns time to gold, your small voice sings joy into these hours.
I've got a feeling you were made for me. And I've got a feeling this is only the beginning of my heart's swelling. This is why all the lost sleep doesn't matter. It must be why long lists of things left undone cease to devastate me. It has to be the reason I can't wait to pull you out of bed in the early morning when the light is still fuzzy through the window. I've got a feeling that what holds me together– this love for the man who continues to sharpen me and soften my rough edges, who is half of you, and this love for the little boy I did not expect and could not have prepared for– this love is taking up all my insides. There's simply no room for much else.
I didn't know I was looking for you, but here you are. The Beatles usually say it well, so I will let them.
"All these years I been wandering around
Wondering how come nobody told me
All that I've been looking for was
Somebody who looks like you."
The past 100 days have honeyed my insides. And I've got a feeling that the next 100 days will be just as sweet.
All my loving,